Emery constantly invited Lance to his house, and was really flattered when he came; for Lance’s father, who had died when he was very young, was a lieutenant in the navy; and his widowed mother, though left with only her pension to depend on, was a lady by birth and education. Lance, however, very frequently refused Emery’s pressing invitations.
“I never met such a stay-at-home fellow as you are,” exclaimed the latter, when on one occasion Lance had declined attending a gay party Mr and Mrs Dulman were about to give. “We shall have half the neighbourhood present—Mr Perkins, our member, and I don’t know how many other grandees—and we want some young fellows like you, who can dance and do the polite. Mother says I must get you, for we don’t know what to do for proper partners for the young ladies.”
“I should have been happy to make myself useful,” answered Lance, laughing; “but I am no great dancer, and my poor mother is so unwell that I cannot leave her.”
“Oh, she has got little Maddie Hayward to look after her, so I will come and get her to let you off.”
“I beg that you will not make the attempt,” answered Lance, more gravely than he had hitherto spoken. “My mother is seriously ill; besides I have work to do, and any time I can spare I must devote to her.”
“Oh, but a little gaiety will do you good, and you can cheer her up with an account of the party,” persisted Emery.
Lance was, however, firm, and he returned in a thoughtful mood to his humble little cottage in the outskirts of the town.
A sweet fair face met him at the jessamine-covered porch—that of a girl three or four years younger than himself. It would not have been surprising had he preferred her society to that of the fine ladies his friend had spoken of, though he certainly was not conscious that this had in any degree influenced him.
Madelene Hayward was indeed a lovely young creature, sweet-tempered and good as she was beautiful. She was the orphan child of a distant relative of Lieutenant Loughton. Having been left, when still an infant, utterly destitute, she had been adopted by the kind-hearted officer at his wife’s earnest wish, and brought up as their daughter, although their own scanty means might have excused them in the eyes of the world had they declined the responsibility.
Mrs Loughton had devoted herself to Maddie’s education, and the young girl repaid her with the most tender love. Some time before this Mrs Loughton’s old servant had married, and Maddie had persuaded her not to engage another in her place, consenting only that a woman should come in to light the fires and do the rougher work which she was less able to perform. While Mrs Loughton was well, she herself attending to what was necessary, Maddie’s duties were not very heavy, but since her illness they had of necessity much increased.