Mildred Arkell Volume Ii Part 38

"I don't believe it; I believe the trade will revive again and be as lucrative as before; and Travice will be able to maintain a home such as we have maintained. It _is_ a fine prospect, I don't care how you may deny it in your gloom; and I say that Travice, enjoying it, might marry half the desirable girls in Westerbury."

"He'd be taken up for bigamy if he did."

"Can't you be serious?" she angrily asked. "Whereas, if he got enthralled by that bane, Lucy Arkell, and----Good patience, here she is!" broke off Mrs. Arkell, as her eyes fell on the courtyard. "The impudence of that! Not half an hour in the town, and to come here!"

Lucy, in her grey travelling cloak, and fresh straw bonnet, came staggering in under a load: a flower-pot, with a great plant in bloom.

She looked well. In moments of excitement, there was something of her mother's loveliness in her face; in the l.u.s.tre of the soft and sweet dark eyes, in the rose bloom of the delicate cheeks, and at those times she was less like Mildred. Lucy put her load on the table, and turned to offer her hand to Mrs. Arkell. Mrs. Arkell touched the tips of the fingers, but Mr. Arkell took her in his arms and kissed her twice; and then recollected himself and fell into proper repentance.

"I ought not to have done it, Lucy; I forgot myself. But, my dear, in the joy of seeing you, and seeing you so pretty, I quite lost sight of precaution. I am s.h.i.+vering with cold and illness, Lucy, and may be going to have I don't know what."

Lucy laughed. She was not afraid, and said so.

"Mamma made me bring this down at once for your conservatory," she said, addressing Mrs. Arkell. "It is a wax plant, and a very beautiful one.

The last time we were here, you were regretting you had not a nice one, and when mamma saw this, she thought of you. She sends her very kind regards, Mrs. Arkell, and hopes you will accept it. And now that's my message, and there's my load, and I have delivered both," concluded Lucy, merrily.

In the face of the present--and it was really a beautiful one of its nature--Mrs. Arkell could not maintain her utter ungraciousness. She unbent a very little: unwillingly thanked Lucy for the plant, and inquired how Mrs. Peter Arkell was.

"I think we had better send our girls to the sea-side, if they could come back improved as Lucy has," remarked Mr. Arkell; and the remark aggravated his wife. "Are those roses on your cheeks real, Lucy, or have you learnt the use of that fas.h.i.+onable cosmetic, rose-powder?"

"They are quite real," answered Lucy, the cheeks blus.h.i.+ng their own testimony to the answer. "It has done us all so much good! Mr.

Prattleton said he should not have known mamma, had he met her in a strange place, she is looking so different. But I am warm just now. It was coming through the streets with that: everybody stared at me."

"Could not Travice have brought it?" asked Mr. Arkell.

"He did offer; but mamma said I should bring it more carefully than he, and she sent me off with it at once. She had been taking care of it herself all the way."

"Where is Travice?" inquired Mrs. Arkell, the sharp tone perceptible in her voice again, more especially to Mr. Arkell's ears.

"He was helping mamma indoors when I came. Papa had gone somewhere: he left us at the station."

Mr. Arkell did not say that he had been there. He was looking very poorly just then, and his hands, quite trembling with cold, were blue as he stretched them out to the fire. Lucy, an admirable sick nurse from her training, the being with her ailing mother, threw back her grey cloak, knelt down, and took them into her own warm hands to chafe them.

It was what one of Mr. Arkell's own daughters would not, or could not, have done. He looked down on the pretty upturned face, every line of which spoke of a sweet goodness. She was more lovely, more attractive than Mildred had been--or was it that his eyes had then had a film before them?--and he felt that--were he in Travice's place----

"I wonder you liked to stay so long away, leaving Henry to himself!"

interrupted Mrs. Arkell.

"He was at Mr. Wilberforce's, you know," replied Lucy. "He was very well there; very happy."

"I suppose he comes home to-day."

"No, not until the college school breaks up for Christmas. Mr.

Wilberforce thinks he had better not disturb himself before. Have you heard of the gold medal? But of course you have. I hope I shall not grow too proud of my brother. But oh, Mrs. Arkell! pray tell me! What do you think of that dreadful thing, the loss of Mr. Dund.y.k.e? Will he ever come back again?"

"Ever come back again!" repeated Mrs. Arkell, believing that Lucy was putting on an affectation of childishness. "How can a murdered man come back?"

"Was he murdered? I thought they supposed he was drowned, but were not certain what it was. Was he murdered?" she repeated, looking at Mr.

Arkell, for Mrs. Arkell did not appear inclined to answer her.

"I fear he was, Lucy."

"Oh, what a dreadful thing! Mrs. Arkell, what will Mrs. Dund.y.k.e do?"

"Oh, she has enough to live upon, I believe."

"I did not quite mean it in that light," said Lucy, gently, as Mrs.

Arkell's remark jarred upon her ear. "And old Marmaduke Carr has died,"

she resumed, "and there's going to be a law-suit about the property.

What a great many things seem to have happened since we went away! Mr.

Arkell, which side do you think has the most right to gain the law-suit?"

"The most right? Well, there's a great deal to be said on both sides, Lucy. If there was no marriage, of course the property does belong to the Carrs of Eckford; if there was a marriage, they have no right to it whatever. In any case, the blame lies with Robert Carr; and his descendants suffer."

"Do you think there was a marriage?" continued Lucy.

Mr. Arkell shook his head.

"I don't, my dear, now. Had there been one, some traces of it would have been found ere this."

"Then young Mrs. Carr will lose the law-suit!"

"Undoubtedly. It appears very strange to me that Fauntleroy should go on with it."

The hands were warm now, and Lucy rose.

"You have done me good, Lucy," said Mr. Arkell, as she was putting on her gloves to leave; "good in all ways. A bright face and a cheering manner! my dear, in sickness, they are worth their weight in gold."

Making the best of her way home, she found Travice alone. Henry was upstairs with his mother, uncording boxes.

"What a time you have been, Lucy!" was the salutation; for it had seemed very long to him.

"Have I? I did not once sit down. Mr. Arkell says I look well after my sojourn, but I told him he should see mamma."

"So he should. But I must be going, Lucy. _Do_ you look well?"

He took both her hands in his, and stood before her, his face a little bent, regarding her intently. Lucy blushed violently under the gaze.

Suddenly, without any warning, his lips were on hers; and he took the first kiss that he had taken from Lucy since her childhood.

"Don't be angry with me, Lucy! Think it a cousin's kiss, if you will."

As he went out, the large shadow of a large, gaily-dressed woman, pa.s.sing between him and the setting sun, was cast upon Travice Arkell.

The shadow of Barbara Fauntleroy. If he could but have foreseen the type it was of the terrible shadow that was to fall upon him in the future!

END OF VOL. II.