Cynthia wrote to beg that Betty would soon come down to see her, and bring her old pupil to be reintroduced to his , but time passed by, and one day after another was vetoed by Miles himself. Betty was . It seemed as if he did not want to go. Yet she could hardly believe that such could be the case, when she recalled to memory the tone of his voice, the look on his face when, for the first and last time since his return, Miles had voluntarily mentioned Cynthia’s name.
“It is quite an easy journey. We can get there in less than two hours by an express train, stay for lunch and tea, and get home again in time for dinner. I’ve been down twice this spring, and it is quite easily managed,” she protested; but Miles would do nothing but , and refuse a definite answer. To spend three or four hours in Franton, a large proportion of which would be taken up in eating meals, and talking to other people—this was not his idea of a first visit to Cynthia after six years of absence. He continued to grunt and make objections for the next few weeks, and then one night at dinner he announced airily—
“I’ve taken rooms at the Grand at Franton for a week from Friday. I thought, as we were going down in any case, we might as well do the thing comfortably, and have a breath of sea-air. in town this last week! They say the Grand is the best hotel, and we shall be fairly comfortable there. Four bedrooms, and a private for you, mater, in case you want to be quiet. Gerard’s coming along; and you’ll come too—over Sunday, at least—I hope, father?”
“Over Sunday, certainly. I can manage that very well; and perhaps Horton can take on my work for a few days. There are no very serious cases on at present, and a rest would be very !” said the tired doctor with a sigh. His wife brightened instantly at the thought of his pleasure, while Betty and Jill flushed with excitement.
Rooms at the Grand! The best hotel, where perchance they might be “comfortable”! They had never before stayed in an hotel; , and cheap lodgings into the bargain, had been their portion on the occasion of their rare holiday-makings. The of the drove out every other thought, and, to his own immense relief, Miles escaped embarrassing comments on his sadden change of front.
“I hope we shan’t have meals in the private room,” Jill said anxiously. “The great fun of staying in an hotel is to see the people, and—er—”
“Be seen by the people?”
“Exactly! Especially the latter. Don’t ask me to do a single thing before Friday, for I shan’t have a second to spare. I’m off remnant-hunting this morning, and shall be glued to the sewing-machine for the rest of the time. Two new blouses at least I must have, if I am to pose before the public eye—”
“Oh, bother remnants! We’ll go to Regent Street this morning, and buy half a dozen blouses between you. I am not going to take you to an hotel in remnants!” cried Miles with masculine scorn.
Since his return from abroad the son of the family displayed a disregard of money which seemed next door to criminal in the eyes of his careful relations. Why worry to make up a blouse for three-and-sixpence when you can buy a better one for three guineas? That was his present attitude of mind; and when the girls hesitated,—fascinated yet fearful,—the reply was always the same—
“I’ve slaved hard enough all these years! This is my holiday. I’ve come home to enjoy myself, and see you enjoy yourselves, and I’m not going to worry my head about shillings. For pity’s sake take what you can get, and don’t fuss!”
It is the attitude of all men who come back to after a long absence, and in Miles’ case it could truthfully be said that his extravagances benefited other people more than himself.
It was a very merry party which travelled down to Franton a few days later, and the comfort and grandeur of the hotel exceeded even the girls’ expectation. All the bedrooms secured were on the front, and were provided with dear little balconies, on which they could sit and gaze over the sea. The drawing-room was a gorgeous apartment—all yellow satin and white archways, and banks of flowers. The dining-hall was dotted over with little tables, a larger one in a bay-window being reserved for the Trevor party. The lounge was provided with innumerable couches and wicker chairs, in which one could loll at ease, scrutinising the other visitors, or submitting to on one’s own account, with a delightful consciousness of a Regent Street blouse. The gardens and shrubberies would have been quite , had it not been that just beyond their bounds stretched the firm golden sands, on which the white-crested waves broke with a siren sound.
“Go to bed without a walk on the shore by moonlight—I can’t and won’t, not if ten fathers, and fifty thousand mothers went down on their knees and me to be !” asserted audacious Jill, as she finished her after-dinner coffee; whereupon Dr Trevor laughed good-naturedly, and said—
“There’s only one father present, and the only knees he possesses are much too stiff to exert themselves in a hopeless cause! Run along, my dear; I should have felt the same at your age. Put on a shawl. Miles, you will see that your sisters don’t run wild, and that they come in by a sensible hour.”
So the four young people wandered along the sands, and watched the moonlight play upon the waters; but there was no need of the last part of the doctor’s warning, for even Jill grew quiet and , and forgot to tease and . Coming fresh from the noisy, crowded city, there was something inexpressibly impressive in the long stretch of sand, the dark, mysterious waters, the loneliness, the silence, broken only by the break of the waves.
Miles walked alone, his face lifted now and again to the top of the cliff on which stood the which the Alliots had hired for the summer months. Betty looked across the waste of waters, and felt a of compunction. How long was it since she had last thought of her friend across the sea? Fainter and more faint had his image been growing, until from forming a constant background to her thoughts, it had become a positive effort to remember. She turned aside from Will Gerard’s whispered words, and passed her hand through her brother’s arm. To be beside Miles was in itself an to .
Next morning at eleven o’clock, Betty and Miles started to walk up to the Alliots’ villa, leaving Jill and Will Gerard seated on the shore throwing into the sea, with every appearance of satisfaction with themselves, and their occupation. The path was steep but not very long, and at the entrance to the garden Mrs Alliot was strolling about, as if awaiting their arrival. She kissed Betty and patted her affectionately on the shoulder.
“Cynthia is waiting for you. Run along to her, dear! I will follow with your brother, and hear some of his news,” she said in a light tone which yet held a hint of command, and, when Betty disappeared, she turned in an opposite direction, so as to take the least direct path to the house.
“I am sure your mother is delighted to have you back! It is delightful that you have been so successful in your work. We have been so interested in your adventures.”
The short conventional sentences were the only references made to Miles’ own affairs, and then, as if in a hurry to get to the subject most on her mind, Mrs Alliot began to speak of her daughter.
“You will be surprised to find Cynthia looking so well. She has put on flesh d............