How should he tell them? That was his next thought; how to get the miserable business explained, so that it might afterward be set aside and forgotten and done with. He waited for some time outside the captain’s cottage, debating what to do, and finally crept in cautiously and stood just within the doorway of the room, and beckoned to the captain. His aunt sat with her back to him, and was quite unaware of his presence.
The captain stared at him for a moment as though he had been a ghost, then rose, and, with a muttered word of apology to Miss Carlaw, came out to him. Not a word was said until they stood outside in the little garden, with the cottage door closed and the two men looking into each other’s eyes.
“She’s gone!” said Comethup; and for the first time, with his old friend’s hand in his, his fortitude gave way and he turned his head aside. “She’s gone away, this afternoon, with the man she loves—gone to be married. You see, sir, I made a mistake—put her in a false position, as it were. But, of course, it is all right now—and she’s gone to be married.”
The captain stood perfectly still for nearly a minute without speaking; then he said slowly, “And the man—who is the man?”
“My cousin, Brian. I suppose I ought to have known from the very first that she must love him, and not me. You see, he’s such a different sort of fellow——”
“Thank God for that!” murmured the captain, under his breath.
“And now all we have to think about is how to tell my aunt. You see, it’s rather a foolish business: we’ve brought her down here under false pretences, as it were, and there’ll be such a lot to explain, won’t there? And I want, for a little time at least, to forget all about it, just as though it hadn’t happened. Shall we go in and tell her?”
“Yes, I suppose we must,” said the captain. “You know her better than I do; but I think she will understand, and will not trouble you with many questions.”
They passed together into the cottage. Miss Charlotte Carlaw must have heard the sound of the voices outside, and must have recognised that something was wrong. She sat quite still, with her hands resting on her stick, but her face wore a curiously anxious expression. Comethup crossed to the window and stood there, at some distance from her, wondering how he should begin. She waited for some moments, and then turned piteously toward the captain, and from him to her nephew.
“Will no one speak? What has happened? Comethup, my dear boy——”