The Star-Gazers Part 35

"Then I must go myself," cried Lucy. "Don't be so silly. Mamma will be dreadfully cross if you don't come."

Eliza seemed to think that it would be better to risk being murdered at the gate than encounter Mrs Alleyne's anger, so she started up, caught at the tin candlestick with trembling hand, and then unbolted the kitchen door loudly, just as the bell was about to be pulled for the fourth time.

"You speak, please, miss," whispered the girl. "I dursn't. Pray say something before you open the gate."

"Who's there," cried Lucy.

"Only me, Miss Alleyne," said a well-known voice. "I was coming across the common, and thought I'd call and see how your brother is."

Lucy eagerly began to unfasten the great gate, but for some reason, probably best known to herself, she stopped suddenly, coloured a little, and said--almost sharply,--

"Quick, Eliza, why don't you open the gate?"

Thus adjured, the maiden unfastened the ponderous lock, and admitted Philip Oldroyd, who shook hands warmly with Lucy, and then seemed as if he were about to change her hand over to his left, and feel her pulse with his right.

"We always have the gate locked at dusk," said Lucy, "the place stands so lonely, and--"

"You feel a little nervous," said Oldroyd, smiling, as they walked up to the house.

"Oh, no!" said Lucy, eagerly; "I never think there is anything to mind, but the maid is terribly alarmed lest we should be attacked by night.

My brother is out," she hastened to say, to fill up a rather awkward pause. "He is taking one of your prescriptions," she added, archly.

"Wise man," cried Oldroyd, as they pa.s.sed round to the front door and went in. "I suppose he will not be long?"

"Oh, no!" said Lucy, eagerly; "if you will come in and wait, he is sure to be back soon."

Then she hesitated, and hastened to speak again, feeling quite uncomfortable and guilty, as if she had been saying something unmaidenly--as if she had been displaying an eagerness for the young doctor to stop--when all the time she told herself, it was perfectly immaterial, and she did not care in the least.

"Of course I can't be sure," she added, growing a little quicker of speech; "but I think he will not be long. He has gone round by the pine wood."

"Then I should meet him if I went that way," said Oldroyd, who had also become rather awkward and hesitant.

"Oh, yes; I think you would be sure to meet him," cried Lucy eagerly.

"Thanks," said Oldroyd, who felt rather vexed that she should be eager to get rid of him; "then perhaps I had better go."

"But of course I can't tell which way he will come back," cried Lucy, hastily; "and you might miss him."

"To be sure, yes," said Oldroyd, taking heart again; "so I might, and then not see him at all." And he looked anxiously at Lucy's troubled face over the tin candlestick, ornamented with drops of tallow that had fallen upon its sides, while Eliza slowly closed the front door, and gazed with her lips apart from one to the other.

Lucy was all repentance again, for in a flash her conscience had told her that she had seemed eager, and pressed the doctor to stay.

An awkward pause ensued, one which neither the visitor nor Lucy seemed able to break. Each tried very hard to find something to say, but in vain.

"How stupid of me!" thought Lucy, angrily.

"What's come to me?" thought Oldroyd; the only idea beside being that he ought to ask Lucy about her health, only he could not, for it would seem so professional. So he looked helplessly at her, and she returned his look half indignantly, while the candle was held on one side, and Eliza gaped at them wonderingly.

Mrs Alleyne ended the awkward pause by opening the dining-room door, and standing there framed like a silhouette.

"Oh, is it you, Mr Oldroyd?" she said, quietly.

"Yes, good evening," exclaimed the young doctor, quickly, like one released from a spell; "as I told Miss Alleyne here, I was coming close by, and I thought I would call and see how Mr Alleyne is."

"We are very glad to see you," said Mrs Alleyne, with grave courtesy.

"Pray come in, Mr Oldroyd," and Lucy uttered a low sigh of satisfaction.

"Of course this is not a professional visit, Mrs Alleyne," said Oldroyd; and then he wished he had not said it, for Mrs Alleyne's face showed the lines a little more deeply, and there was a slight twitching about her lips.

"I am sorry that Mr Alleyne has not yet returned," she said, and as soon as they were seated, she smiled, and tried to remove the restraint that had fallen upon them in the dreary room.

"I am very grateful to you, Mr Oldroyd," she said; "my son is wonderfully better."

"And would be in a position to laugh all doctors in the face, if he would carry out my prescriptions a little more fully," said Oldroyd.

"But we must not be too hard upon him. I think it is a great thing to wean him from his studies as we have."

"You dreadfully conceited man," thought Lucy. "How dare you have the shamelessness to think you have done all this! I know better. No man could have done it--there."

"Did you speak, Miss Alleyne?" said Oldroyd, looking round suddenly, and finding Lucy's eyes intent upon him.

"I? No," cried Lucy, flus.h.i.+ng; and then biting her lips with annoyance, because her cheeks burned, "I was listening to you and mamma."

"It is quite time Moray returned," said Mrs Alleyne, anxiously glancing towards the closed window.

"Yes, mamma; we shall hear his step directly," said Lucy.

"He does not generally stay so long," continued Mrs Alleyne, going to the window to draw aside the curtain and look out. "Did he say which way he would go, Lucy?"

"Yes, mamma. I asked him, and he said as far as the fir wood."

"Ah, yes," responded Mrs Alleyne; "he says he can think so much more easily among the great trees--that his mind seems able to plunge into the depths of the vast abysses of the heavens."

"I don't believe he does think about stars at all," thought Lucy. "I believe he goes there to stare across the park, and think about Glynne."

A feeling of elation made the girl's heart glow, and her eyes sparkle, as she more and more began to nurse this, one of the greatest ideas of her heart. It was an exceedingly immoral proceeding on her part, for she knew that Glynne was engaged to be married to Captain Rolph; but him she utterly detested, she told herself, and that it was an entire mistake; in fact, she a.s.sured herself that it would be an act of the greatest benevolence, and one for which she would receive the thanks of both parties all through her lifetime--if she could succeed in breaking off the engagement and marrying Glynne to her brother.

The conversation went on, but it was checked from time to time by Mrs Alleyne again rising to go to the window, and this movement on her part always had the effect of making Lucy's eyes drop immediately upon her work; and, though she had been the minute before frankly meeting Oldroyd's gaze in conversation, such remarks as he addressed to her now were answered with her look averted, as she busied herself over her sewing.

"Moray never stayed so late as this before," said Mrs Alleyne, suddenly, turning her pale face on those who were so wrapped in their own thoughts that they had almost forgotten the absentee.

"No, mamma," cried Lucy, reproaching herself for her want of interest; "he is an hour later."

"It is getting on towards two hours beyond his time," cried Mrs Alleyne, in despairing tones. "I am very uneasy."

"Oh, but he has only gone a little farther than usual, mamma, dear,"

cried Lucy; "pray don't be uneasy."

"I cannot help it, my child," cried Mrs Alleyne; "he who is so punctual in all his habits would never stay away like this. Is he likely to meet poachers?"