Half an hour later, when Betty escorted the General to the door, he paused in the hall to lay his hand on her arm, and inquire in a voice unusually tremulous—
“You have often spoken to me about your ‘Govies,’ as you call them. Was—was She one of the number?”
Betty murmured an , guiltily conscious of the criticisms which had accompanied the references. Was he about to take her to task for all the remarks she had made on the subject of his old love? But no—the grip on her arm, and he said gently—
“God bless you, my dear, for all your kindness! May it be out to you a hundred times over in your hour of need. A Governesses’ Home—Alice Beveridge! And Terence Digby living in the lap of luxury! Well, well! Twenty years, my dear, since we last met—I was over forty, but she was a girl. A beautiful girl,—I never saw her equal, and the years have not touched her. I should have known her anywhere. She is marvellously unchanged!”
Betty gazed at him dumbly, and there came to her at that moment, for the first time in her life, a realisation of the deep, love which sees beneath the surface, and knows neither change nor time. She had no to laugh at the old man’s blindness; rather she felt towards him and . Happy Miss Beveridge! To one loyal heart at least she would remain always young, always beautiful. Happy Terence Digby, who had kept his ideal untouched!
When Betty her steps to the drawing-room a few minutes later, another surprise was in waiting, for , Miss Beveridge , with her hands over her face, while Mrs Trevor patted her tenderly on the shoulder. She looked across the room and shook her head at her young daughter.
“Go away, Betty dear, please! Leave us alone,” she said gently, and Betty across the hall and in a heap on the nearest chair, faint with excitement. The first real romance with which she had come in contact,—and behold! The leading characters were General Digby and Miss Beveridge! Wonders would never cease!
The next afternoon the General appeared once more, and had a long tête-à-tête with Mrs Trevor.
“I am sorry to be such a trouble to you, madam, but you have no one to blame but yourself, for you have been so patient and forbearing with me during the last six months, that I feel as if there were no limits to your kindness. I went to that Governesses’ Home to-day—for that matter I passed it half a dozen times, but I could not screw up my courage to do any more. The look of the place me, to begin with. To think of Alice Beveridge shut up there! Besides, I’m a soldier; my life has been spent among men; I haven’t the pluck to face a houseful of women. Be a good angel, and let us meet here once more! I was too much overcome yesterday to know what I was saying, but something must be done, and done quickly. I can’t go on living as I am, and think of her working for her living. Of course, you know what it all means. You are a woman, and women are quick enough at guessing these things. I never cared for another woman. I was a man when we met, and it went very hard with me when she said Number 1 was not a boy, to forget at the sight of the next pretty face. I have tried to make the best of things, but it’s been lonely work. I went abroad immediately after she refused me, and heard no more about her. She was visiting a common friend when we met. I knew nothing of her family, so we simply passed out of each other’s lives. I always thought of her as happily married years ago; it never dawned upon me that there could have been any misunderstanding, but yesterday when we met there was something in her face, her manner— She seemed almost as much as I was myself. I may be a old idiot, but it seemed to me as if she had cared after all,—as if there had been some mistake! Women talk to each other more openly than we do. If she told you anything about it, I think you ought to let me know. I have waited a long time!”
There was a in the sound of those last few words which went straight to Mrs Trevor’s heart, and she answered as as he had spoken.
“Yes, indeed, it has been a hard time for you both. Miss Beveridge quite broke down after you left last night, and I gathered from what she said that at the time of your proposal she was taken by surprise, and felt nervous and uncertain of herself, as girls often do. It was only after you had sailed, and she was at home again, that she realised what a blank your absence made, and knew that she had loved you all the time. She hoped you might write, or see her on your return.”
“But she had not the courage to write herself, and acknowledge her mistake? Well, well! Women have their own code of honour, I suppose, but it would have been a gracious act. I remembered her always, but it did not seem to me the straight thing to force myself on a girl half my age, who had already refused me once, and so we have gone on misunderstanding all these years. Then I suppose trouble began? Her people were not rich, but she had a comfortable home, so far as I knew.”
“The parents died, and she was obliged to earn her own living. She has been teaching music in London for the last fifteen years.”
The General .
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