Odd Part 22

'Major St. Clair asked me to ask you to see him,' she said, laying her little hand on Mrs. Fairfax's knee.

'I will write my answer, Betty; I cannot do that,' was the cold reply, as Mrs. Fairfax turned her head away from the child.

But Betty was not to be put off.

'I think he would like to see you very much; and you'd like him, for he is Uncle Harry's friend; and he has such sad eyes, and he has been through tribulation like you; at least, he has had a big trouble, he told me; and that's just the same, isn't it?'

There was no answer. Betty continued: 'Shall I just go out and bring him in? I've been telling him about you this afternoon, and how you gave me the lilies, and Prince, and he liked to hear it; he asked me a lot of questions, and I think he wants to see you, and if you're like a queen, like I told him!'

Then Mrs. Fairfax lifted the child on her knee. 'Oh Betty, Betty!' was all she said, but some glistening drops fell on the child's curly head, as the grey head was bent over it, and Betty wondered why Mrs.

Fairfax's voice sounded so strange. 'I think you will have to bring him in here,' Mrs. Fairfax said at last; and Betty trotted out of the room in great delight. She found the major pacing up and down the road with a white, resolute face. He threw away the cigar he was smoking when he saw the child, and asked, with anxiety in his dark eyes,--

'Well, little woman, how have you fared?'

'You're to come in and see her.'

'Thank G.o.d!' and not another word did the major say till he was in the drawing-room.

It was a constrained and formal greeting between the two; and then Mrs.

Fairfax turned to Betty,--

'Will you run into the garden, dear, till we call you? I think Grace is out there.'

Betty obeyed. Grace was walking slowly up and down the path, enveloped in shawls, and did not look well-pleased when the childish voice sounded in her ear,--

'May I come and walk with you?'

'Were you sent out here? Nesta, I suppose, as usual is out, so she will not be able to look after you, and I certainly am not in a fit state of health to amuse you and keep you out of mischief.'

'I'm not going to get into mischief, really,' protested Betty in an aggrieved tone; 'I'll walk quietly along with you, and won't even pick a flower. Are you better today?'

'No, I am not better--I don't expect I ever shall be, though I can get no sympathy from any one in this house.'

'What's the matter with you?' asked Betty.

'Now, if you are going to worry me with questions, you can just run away; if you were to be kept awake night after night, and never know what it was to be without headaches, having every nerve in your body quivering from exhaustion, you wouldn't wonder what the matter was.'

'I expect you're like Violet, only she could never leave her bed. Mr.

Russell said she would sometimes have no sleep all night, and she was so patient, she used to say, "Read me about there shall be no pain."

Mr. Russell said he wouldn't have been half so patient as she was. And now she is singing right in the middle of "these are they which came out of great tribulation." Wouldn't you like to be her?'

Grace was silent. Betty's active little tongue turned to other subjects; she told about her visit to the Hall, of her 'dead figure'

which was being made out of 'soft putty'; of Prince's misdemeanours when he tried to chase chickens, and then came back to his little mistress with his tail between his legs; of Douglas and Molly's wonderful games, and the twins' talents for getting into trouble; she told her of her walk on the roof, and the story of the young soldiers related by Uncle Harry; and Grace listened, and eventually was amused and interested in spite of herself.

It was a long time before Betty was summoned to the house; and then she met the major in the hall.

'Run in, little one, and wish Mrs. Fairfax good-bye.'

Mrs. Fairfax stooped to kiss Betty; all the hard lines in her face had disappeared, and her voice was unusually gentle.

'You must come and see me another day, when I have no business to occupy me.'

And Betty put her arms round her neck, and gave her a delighted hug.

'You will meet Nesta coming back from the church if you keep to the lane,' Mrs. Fairfax said, speaking to Major St. Clair; 'and we shall expect you to dinner tomorrow.'

He raised his hat, and strode round the shrubbery with such energy that it was all Betty could do to keep up with him.

'Don't you think Mrs. Fairfax like a queen?' asked Betty presently.

'Was she like what I told you?'

'I have seen Mrs. Fairfax before,' was the major's short reply; and Betty gave a little disappointed 'Oh!'

Not long afterwards they came in sight of Nesta. She was walking along rather slowly, her eyes and her thoughts far away; but when she saw who it was, a quick colour spread over her face.

Major St. Clair stepped forward quickly.

'Your mother has sent me to you,' he said; and there was a glad ring in his tone. Nesta looked up at him bewildered.

'My mother! Have you seen her?'

'Yes; thanks to this little person here with me.'

Betty was kissed, but for once Nesta seemed oblivious of her presence.

The child could not understand it, neither could she understand the explanation that followed in low, earnest tones. She saw Nesta's eyes light up with a sudden joy, and then fill with tears; she saw Major St.

Clair bend his head very close to hers, and though she stood silently by she might just as well have been miles away, for all the notice that she received. At last with a little sigh she said,--

'I'm rather tired; I think I'll go home with Prince.'

Nesta turned to her at once.

'You poor little mite! G.o.dfrey, will you carry her? I must leave you.

No, don't come with me. I shall see you to-morrow, and I would rather see my mother alone. She has been so different lately, but I never dared to hope for this! Good-bye, Betty; you have been our little benefactor.'

Betty was hoisted on the broad shoulders of the major, and carried home in silence; he was busy with his own thoughts, and she was tired and sleepy.

They found Captain Stuart impatiently waiting for dinner.

'Where have you been?' he asked; 'has Betty bewitched you?'

'She has done me a good turn to-day,' responded the major.

Betty dipped her little hand into her uncle's.

'We've been to Holly Grange, Uncle Harry. I think Major St. Clair and my Miss Fairfax must have quarrelled yesterday, for he made her cry; but they kissed each other and made it up to-day, and now we're all friends.'