It was that while one partner stayed on the spot, Miles should fit in his holiday so as to be able to help Gerard with the work of floating a company in England, an arrangement which it was believed would but a short delay. As is invariably the case in these affairs, however, matters took much longer to set in train than had been originally expected, and it was a good six months later before the welcome cablegram was received stating that the travellers were really on their way.
Six years! Miles was a man of twenty-six, matured by a life of enterprise and adventure. Betty admitted with horror to being “twenty-four next birthday,” and shivered at the remembrance that six more years would bring her to that thirty which she had once considered the “finis” of life. and Jill were twenty, and if he were still a lad, she was a very finished product indeed, the acknowledged of her set, with a satisfaction in her own success which would have been called vanity in a less popular person, but which in her case was indulgently voted as yet another charm. Pam was fourteen, a schoolgirl, who had her kitten-like graces, and entered the world of school, where everything (including the return of a half-forgotten brother!) was secondary in interest to the strictures of “Maddie” on the subject of French verbs, the ambition of some day becoming “head girl,” and the daily meetings with her friend Nellie Banks.
Everyone had grown older; even little Jerry Vanburgh, who six years before had been by his own account “a baby angel up in heaven,” was now a sturdy of four, in man-of-war suits, whose love of fun and frolic was of his mother’s son.
What would Miles think of them all? Betty asked herself as she donned her prettiest dress, in preparation for the long-expected hour. Would he be prepared for the changes which had taken place, or feel surprised and chilled, perhaps even disappointed, to find his old companions turned into comparative strangers? He had never had much imagination, dear old lad!—it would be just like him to come home expecting to find everything looking as if he had left it but a month before.
Betty leant her arms on the dressing-table and stared scrutinisingly at her reflection in the mirror. She had always been a severe judge of her own charms, and now the remembrance of Jill’s sparkling little face made her own appear grave and staid; still, when all was said and done, she looked very nice!—the old schoolgirl word came in as ever to fill an awkward place.
Twenty-four though she was, it was certain that she was prettier than she had been at eighteen, and pink was Miles’ favourite colour—she had remembered that in buying her new dress, and had chosen it especially for his benefit. “Oh, I hope he’ll like me! He must like me!” she cried to herself, with a rush of love and at her heart. How was it that as one grew older, home ceased to be the absolutely complete and satisfying world which it had been in early days? Why was it that, surrounded with father and mother, and sisters and brothers, all dear and kind and loving, the heart would yet experience a feeling of loneliness, a longing for something too intangible to be put into words?
“I want something—badly! What can it be?” Betty had questioned of herself times and again during the last few years, and the invariable answer had been—“Miles! It must be the loss of Miles which I feel more and more, instead of less and less. When Miles comes home there will be nothing left to wish for in all the world!” And now in an hour,—in half an hour, Miles would be with her once more! Dr Trevor and Jack had gone to the station to meet him, but his mother and the girls had preferred to wait at home. “So that you can all howl, and hang round his neck at once—I know you!” Jack had cried teasingly. “Take my advice, and cut short the huggings. When fellows have roughed it abroad, they don’t like being mauled!”—at which a chorus of feminine indignation had buzzed about his ears.
“Mauled, indeed! Howl, indeed! They trusted they knew how to behave without his advice! Would it not be well if he allowed Miles himself to say what he did and did not like? Had he not better rehearse his own conduct, before troubling himself about other people’s?” So on, and so on, until Jack fled in dismay, fingers in ears. That was the worst of chaffing girls—they would always insist upon having the last word!
Downstairs in the sitting-rooms all was en fête, the best mats and covers and cushions being exhibited for the benefit of one who would probably never notice their existence, or might even be misguided enough to imagine that chiffon-draped cushions were meant for use, not . Flowers were tastefully arrayed in every available position; the tea-table lacked only the presence of pot and kettle; Jill had arranged the little curl on her forehead at its most artless and captivating angle—in a word, preparation was complete!
“Sit down, dears—sit down! You make me nervous fidgeting about, and—I’m nervous enough already!” said Mrs Trevor tremulously, and her three big daughters obediently sank down on chairs and stared at each other across the room.
“I’m very sorry to say so—but I’m ill!” cried Betty . “I feel awful. A kind of crawly, creepy—all—overish—sick-swimming-kind-of-feeling—I think I’m going to faint! I’m sorry to alarm you—”
But no one was in the least alarmed. Mrs Trevor only smiled feebly, while the other girls upon even more alarming symptoms.
“My heart is going like a sledge-hammer,” sighed Jill. “I feel every moment as if it might burst!—I can’t see you. The air is full of spots—”
“I’m as dizzy as dizzy,” declared Pam . “I feel exactly as I did that Wednesday Nellie and I ate chocolates all the afternoon in a hot room. If he doesn’t come soon we’d better all lie down. We could get up again when we heard the bell.”
“The bell, indeed! Miles shall not have to ring the bell when he arrives home after six years’ absence, if his mother is alive to open the door for him!” cried Mrs Trevor indignantly, and then suddenly she gave a cry, and rushed across the room. A cab with luggage had up before the door. Miles had arrived!
Well, after all Jack was right! They did all hang round him at once. Mrs Trevor was folded in his arms, but Betty and Jill each hung on to a side, while Pam stroked the back of his head, and if they did not exactly “howl,” they were certainly by no means dry-eyed.
“My boy! My boy!” cried the mother. “Miles, oh, Miles!” the girls; and Miles incoherent answers in his big man’s voice, and quietly but surely pushed his way into the drawing-room. His eyes were shining too, but he had no intention that the passers-by should witness his emotion. He looked enormously big and broad, and tanned and important. Handsome Miles would never be, but his was a good strong face, with the firmly-set lips and clear, level gaze which speak so eloquently of a man’s character, and his mother thanked God with a full heart as she welcomed him back.
As for Miles himself, the sight of his mother brought with it a
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