Clad in an immaculate frock-coat, with a hat of shininess on his head, a flower in his buttonhole, and every detail of his correctly up-to-date, “my chum Gerard” made his appearance to call at Brompton Square on the Monday afternoon following Miles’ return.
“I’ve met him a hundred times in Piccadilly!” was Jill’s comment on the stranger, and indeed he had far more the air of a fashionable Londoner than of a miner from the far-off wilds of Mexico. As tall as Miles, though of a more slender build, showing in the same fashion the marks of recent shaving, rather handsome than plain, rather dark than fair, there seemed at first sight little to distinguish him from a hundred other men of the same age. On a closer acquaintance, however, a further attraction was found in the grave, steady glance of the eyes, and in a rare smile, up somewhat features into a charming flash of gaiety. Mr Gerard was evidently unused to laughter—with all his qualities Miles could not be described as a humorous companion!—and the programme of the past years had been all work and no play. As he sat in Mrs Trevor’s drawing-room that first afternoon, he listened in a somewhat dazed fashion to the which went on between and his sisters; but after some time had passed his face began to , the corners of his mouth , and presently out flashed that , whole-hearted smile, and Betty, meeting it, buried at once and for ever all lingering prejudices against her brother’s friend.
It was fortunate that Mr Gerard had made a impression on the young people, for, at Miles’ earnest request, he was invited to take up his quarters at Brompton Square for the next few weeks.
“His own people live in the country; he has no friends that he cares about in town, and I hate the thought of him moping alone in an hotel after all he has done for me. Besides, we ought to be together just now. There will be business to talk over every night until we get this company floated, and if he were not here I should always have to be going over to him—”
The last argument settled the matter in Mrs Trevor’s eyes. Truth to tell, she was not too anxious to introduce a stranger into her reunited family circle, but if it were easier and more convenient for Miles, and ensured for herself a greater amount of his society, it was impossible to refuse. She reaped the reward of merit in a growing and for her guest, who was even pathetically grateful for her hospitality, and of the home atmosphere to which he had so long been a stranger.
Business the greater part of the time, but there were odd hours of leisure when the girls were suddenly commanded to get ready with all possible speed, and spirited off for an afternoon on the river, or on bicycle expeditions to the country, ending up with an evening meal at some old-fashioned country inn. They were treated to concerts also, and to entertainments of all sorts, including welcoming parties at friends’ houses, and when they the speedy wearing out of evening dresses, Miles insisted upon providing new ones, regardless of expense.
“It’s most grateful and comforting to have a gold-mine in the family,” cried Jill, making eyes at the senior partner. Of course she with him—Jill flirted with everything in the shape of a man—monopolising his attention on all occasions in a manner which would have been somewhat trying to most elder sisters.
“But I know you don’t mind. You like best of all to be with Miles,” said Jill easily, when some remark of the sort was made, and Betty’s reply held an unexpected .
“I don’t mind in the least. It is a matter of perfect unconcern to me how Mr Gerard behaves; but you are my sister. I am sorry to see you lowering your dignity, by being so silly, and flighty, and ridiculous! I am sure he must laugh at you in private?”
“He laughs to my face, dear. I amuse him wonderfully. He told me yesterday that I was as good as a . Such a pity you should bother your poor old head about me! I understand men, my dear!”
The insinuation of that emphasised “I” was unmistakable. Jill began to hum—an habit of hers when she felt the mistress of a situation—and tripped lightly out of the room.
And Betty sat and thought. Burning like a furnace, in every nerve, shaking her even as she sat, came a sudden fierce heat of anger such as she had not experienced for many a long year. She had been accustomed to regard Jill’s from a mental height of affectionate , to laugh with purest amusement at her assumption of superiority, but now of a sudden had changed to anger and a sore of , which puzzled as much as it disturbed. It could not be that she herself Mr Gerard’s attention! Cynthia, Nan Vanburgh, all her friends had remarked times and again upon her indifference to masculine admiration, for, strange as it might seem, that romantic interview in the fog six years before had linked her sympathies so strangely with one man’s lot that she had had none to spare for later comers. Under God’s she had saved a life, and while those voiceless messengers told of its , it must remain the one interest of life. Some day “Ralph” would come home. Some day he would appear before her to announce his task completed, and to claim her friendship as his reward. Her mother pleaded with her not to allow a romantic fancy to ruin her life, out that “Ralph” might have married long before now, that even if he returned she might be bitterly disappointed in his identity. In vain! Betty could not argue. She felt—and that was the end of the matter. The sympathetic attraction was too strong to be one-sided. At the other side of the ocean “Ralph” was waiting for her, even as she for him, and the meeting would surely come. It might be years hence, but—marvellous thought!—it might be to-day. Each fresh brought with it a thrill and a hope.
All these long years had this fantasy lasted; it was not possible that it was beginning to fade at the sight of a pair of grave grey eyes, at the sound of a man’s deep-toned voice!
Betty sat and thought. Ten minutes passed, twenty minutes, half an hour.
Jill thrust her head round the corner of the door to give a careless invitation.
“I’m going for a before dinner. Come along too. It will do you good.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather not.”
“Sulking still? Goodness, I thought you’d have recovered by this time! Bye-bye, my dear. Hope you’ll get it over before dinner.”
She was humming again as she made her way to the door, where, no doubt, Mr Gerard waited to accompany her. The invitation had been a polite matter of form to which an acceptance was not desired. Betty leant her head on the table and lived through a moment of bitterness before the door opened once more, and a voice said—
“If you are not going out, may I come in for a few minutes? Miles has not yet—” Then, in a tone of startled concern, “I beg your pardon! I am interrupting you. You are in trouble?”
Betty straightened herself with a nervous laugh.
“Oh, please come in! It’s nothing. I only felt rather—upset. Something me, but it’s nothing of any importance. Can I do anything for you? Are you expecting Miles? He said he would be home quite early. Were you going out together?”
“Yes, we have some calls to pay, but there’s still half an hour to spare. He will be up to time, I’m sure. Miles is always punctual.”
Mr Gerard seated himself, and looked with concern at Betty’s face, on which the signs of her mental conflict were clearly printed. It was almost the first time that they had been alone together, for tête-à-têtes were of rare occurrence in the doctor’s busy household, and there was a perceptible on both sides.
“No, thank you! You can do nothing for me, but I wish I could help you,&rdqu............