Burgo's Romance

by T. W. Speight

It was three weeks later. Sir Everard, Miss Roylance, and Burgo were still at Hazeldean, where the Marrables had accorded them the heartiest of welcomes, and with that large-hearted hospitality for which they were noted, would not hear of their leaving short of a month at the very soonest. Besides, Sir Everard was "picking up wonderfully," as Mrs. Marrable termed it The bracing Scotch air had proved the finest of tonics, and it would be a thousand pities for him to quit Hazeldean with his cure only half accomplished.

But although the baronet and Burgo were going to stay on a while longer, the eve of Miss Roylance's departure was come. A cousin of her mother, a widow lady of mature years, of whose existence Dacia had hardly been aware, had found her out quite by accident, and had written her such a pressing invitation to go and visit her in Edinburgh, where she resided, and stay with her for as long as she liked, that, under the circumstances in which she was placed, the girl felt she had no option but to accept the offer. She and Burgo had spent a very happy time together; the more they saw of each other the stronger became the bond of attraction between them. Although no word of love had been spoken, each knew the other's secret. They had been happy from day to day, as children are happy, and had not troubled themselves about the future. But such halcyon moments could not last for ever, and this sudden summons must necessarily bring them to an end.

It was not likely, however, that Burgo would consent to let Dacia go without coming to an understanding with her. But indeed, whether she stayed or went, he told himself that further silence on his part might be construed into a proof of dilatoriness, and that was one of the last of a lover's crimes which he would willingly have had imputed to him.

So now, on the eve of Dacia's departure--she was to start almost immediately after breakfast next morning--he sought his opportunity and found it.

It was a mild November afternoon, overcast for the most part, yet with now and then a passing gleam of pallid sunshine. Not a breath of air fluttered the last poplar leaves which still hung, ragged and forlorn, on the two tall trees that fronted the house. There seemed a hush over all things; it was as though the dying year lay with shut eyes and folded hands awaiting its end. Sir Everard, together with his host and hostess, had gone in the brougham to visit some archaeological remains a dozen miles away. Our young people had the house to themselves. It was possible that kind-hearted Mrs. Marrable had had some hand in this arrangement. She was a born matchmaker, and had quite early seen how the land lay as between Burgo and Dacia, while it was equally a matter of course that her husband should not have seen anything.

The grounds at Hazeldean were extensive, and Dacia, hampered as she was with her crutch, found them quite ample enough to wander about in. She and Burgo had been strolling about for half an hour or more, when they came to a seat fixed at a point from which an especially fine view was to be had. Here they sat down as they had many times before. It was not often that Burgo was absent-minded, but he had been so to-day, and for the last ten minutes he had hardly spoken a word. Dacia had made no attempt to break his spell of silence, but had glanced at him once or twice a little timorously. Had she any prevision of what it was he was about to say to her?

He had been staring straight before him for some little time, but seeing nothing save some inner vision of his own. Suddenly he turned, and bending his glowing eyes full upon her, said: "And so you are going to leave us to-morrow; but for how long, Dacia?--that is the question, for how long?"

It was not the first time by several that he had called her by her baptismal name, and she did not seem to resent the liberty.

"You know what my cousin, Mrs. Croxford, said in her letter," she replied in a low voice. "She virtually offers me a home. Although we have never met, she is my nearest living relative, and I have no option but to go to her."

"But not to stay with her long, Dacia--oh, no!--not to stay with her long. I love you, Dacia--that you have known for days and weeks; it needed no words on my part to tell you that--and I want you to be my wife. My uncle knows and approves. During the last few weeks you have become very dear to him. He loves you as if you were his own child--I have his word for it--and he has charged me to tell you that the dearest wish left him in life is that you should--well, become the wife of his good-for-nothing nephew."