Wild Heather Part 16

"Sit down and rest, Daddy darling; don't talk for a minute or two. This is my room, and you are my visitor, and you shall do just as you like."

"Smoke a pipe, for instance?" he asked, giving me a quizzical glance.

"Indeed you may and shall," I said. I began to poke in his pocket for his pipe, and when I found it filled it for him and lit it, as I used to do when I was a small child; then I gave it to him to smoke.

"You are a dear little thing," he said. "You are the comfort of my life."

His pipe and the peace of my room seemed to soothe him wonderfully, but over and over I heard him mutter, "Upon my word!" and then I heard him say, "No, not quite that; I have done a good bit for her ladys.h.i.+p, but that scoundrel--she must know that he can never come here."

"Daddy, what is wrong?" I asked.

He took his pipe out of his mouth, gave a profound sigh, and looked me full in the face.

"There's nothing wrong at all," he said. "I was in a bit of a pa.s.sion--not a temper--a _pa.s.sion_--my pa.s.sion was right and justifiable, but her ladys.h.i.+p's nearly all right now."

"And won't you let her brother come to see her, Daddy?"

"Stop that, Heather; you are not to question me."

"Then he is not coming?" I said.

"That man shall never darken my doors."

"Daddy!"

"Miss Curiosity is not to know the reason," he said, smiling once more and pinching my cheek. "Now then, look here. Her ladys.h.i.+p is in a bit of a tiff--oh, not much; she'll be herself by this evening. You and she are going to a very big affair to-night, and what do you say to _our_ enjoying a very big affair to-day? Richmond, eh? in her ladys.h.i.+p's motor, eh? and no questions asked, eh, eh?"

"Oh, father, how truly rapturous!"

"Well, then, we'll do it. Get Morris to make you look as smart as possible, and I will order the motor-car to come round. Now, then, off with you!"

I flew to get ready, and father and I had a very happy day together. As we were coming back in the motor-car, just in time for me to get dressed for that great function which he would not attend, I said to him:

"Daddy, I thought that when people were a long time in the army----"

"Eh, eh?" he said. "What about the army?"

"I thought that they got promotion--I mean you ought to be a full colonel, or even a general, by now."

"Little Heather, will you promise with all your heart and soul never to repeat something I am going to say to you?"

"Of course, I will promise you, my own daddy."

"Well, I am not in the army--I haven't been in the army for years."

"Daddy!"

"Now listen, and keep that knowledge deep down in your heart. But for that scoundrel who wanted to pay us a visit I'd have been a general in his Majesty's service now. No more words, Heather; no more words--keep it dark, _dark_ in your heart. I am called Major by her ladys.h.i.+p as a matter of courtesy, but I was snuffed out some time ago, child; yes, snuffed out. Now then, here we are! We've had a good day--very jolly to be alone with my little Heather--life's not half bad when you consider that your own child need not understand every black and evil thing about you. But I am snuffed out for all that, little Heather mine."

CHAPTER X

About a month pa.s.sed by, and the scene which I have alluded to seemed to have receded like distant smoke. Lady Helen and my father were the best of friends. I went to see Lady Carrington as often as I could, but for some reason Lady Helen Dalrymple and she were only the merest acquaintances, and I could see that Lady Helen was jealous when Lady Carrington invited me to her house. The days I spent with that good woman were the happiest of my life just then, but they were few and far between.

I saw very little of father. After our long delightful day at Richmond he seemed to pa.s.s more or less out of my life. He seemed to me to be an absolute and complete cipher, so much so that I could not bear to look at him. His hearty, happy, jolly, delightful manners were subdued, his eyes were more sunken than they used to be, and the colour in his cheeks had quite faded. I used to gaze at him with a pang at my heart, and wonder if he were really growing thin. He hardly ever said now, "Hallo, hallo! here we are!" or "Oh, I say, how jolly!" In fact, I never heard any of his old hearty exclamations; but what annoyed me most was that when Lady Helen was present he hardly took any notice of me.

Nevertheless, I had my good times, for by now I was tired of sitting up half the night and of going to endless dances and listening to innumerable empty compliments, and being smiled at by men whom I could not take the faintest interest in, and whose names I hardly remembered.

But as the summer came on faster and faster, and the London season advanced to its height, I did enjoy my morning walks with Morris. Lady Helen had said something about my having a horse to ride, but up to the present I was not given one, and consequently I walked with Morris, and we invariably went into Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens.

I remember a day early in May, when I unexpectedly met Captain Carbury.

I was sitting on a chair, with Morris next to me, when I saw him in the distance. He pushed rapidly through a crowd of people, and came up to my side. He took a chair close to mine.

"Can't you get your maid to walk about for a short time?" he said. "I have something of great importance I want to say to you."

I turned towards Morris.

"Morris, will you kindly go to the first entrance and buy me two s.h.i.+llingsworth of violets?" I said to the girl.

Morris rose at once to do what I asked.

"That's right," said Captain Carbury, when we were alone. "I have such a strange thing to tell you, Miss Grayson."

"That isn't my name now," I said.

"I beg your pardon," he replied, turning a little red, "Miss Dalrymple."

Then he added: "I have been wanting to see you for weeks, but did not know how to manage it."

"But was there any difficulty?" I asked. "You know where my father and Lady Helen live. You could have called."

He coloured and looked down on the ground.

"We have met at last," he said, after a pause, "and now I have this to tell you."

"What?"

"You saw Dorothy Vinguard once, didn't you?"

"The girl you are engaged to? Of course."

"I am not engaged to her any longer; our engagement is broken off."

"Oh, I am sorry," I said, and I looked at him with a world of sympathy in my eyes.

"Dear little Miss Heather," he replied, "you needn't be sorry, for I a.s.sure you I am not."