Captain Lennox walked slowly forward till he stood close by the invalid's chair: for an invalid Mr. Denison was, and had been for years. The latter spoke first. "So--so! You have got back from town, eh, and brought me a message from my little girl?" said he, looking up at his visitor with sharp, crafty eyes. "I hope that the London smoke and London hours have not quite robbed her of her country roses? But sit down--sit down."
"Miss Winter could hardly look better than when I saw her the day before yesterday," replied Captain Lennox. "She desired me to present her dearest love to you, and to tell you that she would not fail to be back at Heron Dyke on Monday evening next."
"I knew she would be back to her time," chuckled the Squire. "Though, for that matter, she might have stayed another fortnight had she wanted to."
He had a harsh, creaking, high-pitched voice, as though there were some hidden hinges somewhere that needed oiling; and it was curious to note that Aaron Stone's voice, probably from listening to that of his master for so many years, had acquired something of the same harsh, high-pitched tone, only with more of an inherent grumble in it. At a little distance, a person not in the habit of hearing either of them speak frequently, might readily have mistaken one voice for the other.
"I fancy, sir," said the Captain, "that Miss Winter is never so happy as when at Heron Dyke. She strikes me as being one of those exceptional young ladies who care but little for the gaieties and distractions of London life."
"Aye, the girl's been happy enough here, under the old roof-tree of her forefathers. She has been brought up on our wild east coast, and our cold sea winds have made her fresh and rosy. She is not one of your town-bred minxes, who find no happiness out of a ball-room or a boudoir. But she is a child no longer, and girls at her age have sometimes queer fancies and desires, that come and go beyond their own control. There have been times of late when I have fancied my pretty one has moped a little. Maybe, her wings begin to flutter, and to her young eyes the world seems wide and beautiful, and the old nest to grow duller and darker day by day."
His voice softened wonderfully as he spoke thus of Ella. He sat and stared at the burning log, his chin resting on his breast. For the moment he had forgotten that he was not alone.
Captain Lennox waited a minute and then coughed gently behind his hand. The Squire turned his head sharply. "Bodikins! I'd forgotten all about you," he said. "Well, I'm glad you've called to-night, Captain, though if you had come much later I should have been between the blankets. We are early birds at the Dyke. And she was looking well, was she!--forgetting a bit, maybe, the trouble here. You gave my little present safely into her hands, eh?"
"I did not fail to deliver it speedily, as I had promised. Miss Winter will tell you herself how delighted she was with its contents."
The Squire chuckled and rubbed his bony hands. "Ay, ay, she was pleased, was she? I shall have half a dozen kisses for it, I'll be bound."