The Parson O' Dumford Part 17

Eve hastened to obey, and, drawing the young girl's head down to her breast, Mrs Glaire went on:

"My child, you must not think me strange; but I want to talk to you-- about Richard."

"Yes, aunt," said Eve, whose voice suddenly turned husky, as her heart began to accelerate its motion.

"You love d.i.c.k, Eve?"

"Oh, aunt dear, yes," faltered the girl, with tears rising to her eyes.

"Of course you do, child. No girl could help loving my son."

"Oh no, aunt."

"I always meant him to marry you here, my dear; for it would be best for both of you. You have always looked upon him as to be your husband."

"Yes, aunt dear, always."

"Yes, and it will be best for you both," said Mrs Glaire, repeating herself, as if she found some difficulty in what she had to say.

There was silence then for a few minutes, during which the tea-urn went on humming softly, and both women listened for the truant's footsteps, but he did not come.

"Richard is quite a man now," said Mrs Glaire, after clearing her throat. "Yes, aunt dear, quite."

"Does he--does he ever talk much to you about--about love?"

"Oh no, aunt dear," said Eve, in a surprised tone. "But he is always very, very kind to me, and of course he does love me very much. He would never think of talking about it, aunt dear; he shows it."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Mrs Glaire.

"But--but--does he ever talk to you about--being married?"

"Married, aunt? Oh no!"

"He ought to," said Mrs Glaire, with a sigh. "Eve, my child, I think it would be better for you both if you were married."

"Do you, aunt; why?" said Eve, naively.

"It would be better for me too," said Mrs Glaire, evading the question.

"Would it, aunt?" said Eve, looking at her for a moment, and then hanging her head as if in deep thought.

"Yes, my dear, I should feel happier--I should feel that Richard was settled. That he had a good, true, dutiful wife, who would watch over him and guide him when I am gone."

"Oh, aunty, aunty, aunty," cried the girl, turning and twining her arms round her neck to kiss her tenderly, "you are low-spirited and upset with that terrible trouble to-day. You must not talk like that. Why, you look so young and bright and happy sometimes, that it's nonsense for you to say dear d.i.c.k wants some one to look after him. Of course we shall be married some day--when d.i.c.k likes; but we never think of such a thing--at least, I'm sure I don't."

There was a pleasant, rosy flush on the girl's face as she spoke, and just then a cough in the hall made her jump up, exclaiming--

"Here's d.i.c.k!"

Mr Richard Glaire swung the door open directly after, gave a scowl round the room, nodded shortly at his mother, threw himself into an easy-chair, picked up the book Eve had been reading, glanced at it, and with an impatient "pis.h.!.+" jerked it to the other side of the room.

Eve laughed, made a pretty little grimace at him, and, removing the cosy, hastened to pour out the tea, one cup of which she held ready, evidently expecting that Richard would come and take it to his mother.

Then, seeing that he did not pay any heed to her look, she carried the cup herself, round by the back of the young man's chair, giving his hair a playful twitch as she went by.

"Don't!" shouted Richard, angrily, and then in an undertone muttered something about "confounded childishness," while Eve bent over her aunt and whispered softly--

"He'll be better when he has had some tea, aunt dear. He's upset with thinking about to-day."

Mrs Glaire nodded, and watched the pretty, graceful form as Eve tripped back, to stand for a moment or two behind Richard's chair, resting her hands upon his shoulders as she whispered tenderly--

"Does your face hurt you, d.i.c.k dear?"

"Bother!" growled d.i.c.k, pouring the cup of tea to which he had helped himself down his throat. "Here, fill this."

Eve took the cup and saucer, only smiling back at him, and refilling it, said playfully--

"d.i.c.k's cross, aunty. I'm going to give him double allowance of sugar to sweeten his temper."

"I wish you'd pour out the tea, and not chatter so," he cried, impatiently. "What with your tongue and hers, there isn't a bit of peace to be had in the place."

Eve looked pained, but the look pa.s.sed off, and without attending to her own wants, she took some bread and b.u.t.ter across to where Richard sat scowling at the wall.

"Won't you have something to eat, d.i.c.k dear?" she said, affectionately.

"NO!"

There are a good many ways of saying "no." This was one of the most decisive, and was uttered so sharply that Eve forbore to press that which she had brought upon her cousin, and carried it to her aunt.

The rest of the time before retiring was pa.s.sed in about as agreeable a way, till, at a nod from Mrs Glaire, Eve said, "Good night," being affectionately embraced by her aunt, and then turning to d.i.c.k, she bent over him.

"Good night, dear d.i.c.k," she whispered, holding her cheek to be kissed, as she rested her hands upon his shoulders.

"There, good night. For goodness' sake don't paw one about so."

Eve remained motionless, with the tears gathering in her eyes, for a few moments, before bending down and kissing the young man's forehead.

"Good night, dear darling d.i.c.k," she whispered. "I'm very sorry about all your troubles; but don't speak like that, it--it hurts me."

The next moment she had taken up her candlestick and glided from the room.

Richard Glaire gave himself an impatient twist in his chair, and lay back thinking of the warm, glowing beauties of Daisy Banks, when he started up in affright, so silently had his mother risen from her couch, advanced, laid her hands upon his shoulder, one crossed over the other, and said in a low, clear voice--

"d.i.c.k, you are thinking of Daisy Banks."

"I--I thought you were asleep." he stammered.

"I was never more wide awake, Richard--to your interests," said Mrs Glaire.