CHAPTER XXXSUCH IS LOVE!
“It is too lovely for words!” cried Isabel, her eyes fixed on her brother’s picture of the Madonna.
They were in the studio after coming back from Rosendale Road. Mrs. Webster had retired for the night, and Miss Linkin was waiting up to see “lights out,” an aggravating habit she had (according to Dan).
“And is Miss Le Breton really as beautiful as that, Dan?” asked Isabel, “or have you idealized her?”
“It is a portrait—abonâ-fideportrait,” answered Dan, his eyes fixed on the lovely picture. “I have often asked myself what gave that look to her eyes. There is sorrow there. There is submission to sorrow. There is, too,peace. How came that look? There is a mystery about Miss Le Breton. I heard that she was for years mentally unsound. This I cannot believe. She is intellectual above the ordinary, and absolutely normal. There must have been some reason for the false report being set afoot. Sometimes I have thought it might be to keep away suitors. Her mother and her uncle are so passionately fond of her. But that idea of mine is absurd, after all, for being so attached to the girl, they would not wish to damage her reputation. There is, as I say, a mystery.”
“Is her father dead?” asked Isabel.
“Ah, that is a sad part of the story thatisknown,” said Dan. “Her father was Eweretta Alvin’s father.Poor Aimée Le Breton is illegitimate. It is said that the half-sisters were so exactly alike that they might well be mistaken for one another. But Philip Barrimore, who should know, says thereisa difference, and that Miss Le Breton, though amazingly like Miss Alvin, could not possibly be mistaken for her.”
“Do you thinkMr.Barrimore is getting over Miss Alvin’s death?” asked Isabel, her eyes still on the picture.
“Yes, I certainly do,” affirmed Dan. “It is surprising, after the fearful hullabaloo he made at first. Do you know, Mrs. Barrimore andMr.Burns absolutely refused to let Philip go to Beachy Head, for fear he should throw himself over the cliff! Now he talks of Eweretta without emotion. He talks to Miss Le Breton, who is so like her, without emotion.”
“Such is love!” sighed Isabel.
“Are you ever coming?” Miss Linkin called from the back door.
“All right, aunt,” Dan called back.
“But it isn’t all right,” Miss Linkin protested. “It is time everyone was in bed, and it’s wasting gas to no purpose.”
“We had best go in, Dan,” said Isabel, sighing.
She had so longed for a long talk with her brother.
“Never mind, old girl,” answered Dan in a comforting way. “I’ll get up and walk to school with you, and we can finish out talk then.”
Isabel smiled. “It is good to have you home again!” she told him.
“Put the gas fire out!” called Miss Linkin.
“Allright!” shouted Dan. “You will take cold, aunt, standing at the door!”
“How annoying she is!” he added.
“Oh, never mind,” Isabel rejoined. “She has been so good, looking after us all. It has been wonderful the way she has always kept us out of debt; and she does look after mother so beautifully.”
The brother and sister entered the house arm in arm, like the chums they were, and Isabel flew upstairs. Dan went into the dining-room, blundering over the furniture in the dark, and finally sprawling over something on the hearth.
“Whatareyou doing!” cried Miss Linkin, arriving with a candle.
“Barking my shins, if you want to know,” replied Dan crossly. “Look here! what is that hearthrug rolled up like that for, just ready to throw anyone down?”
“No one was expected to go in here again to-night,” announced Miss Linkin. “What do you want out of this room? All your luggage is upstairs.”
“I left some of my beer in the jug,” Dan explained.
“Yes, Daniel, and you stuffed your table-napkin in the top, and it is all soaked in beer.”
“Never mind, auntie! But whereisthe jug? It isn’t on the sideboard.”
“You will find it in the kitchen on the dresser, Daniel, but I fear it will be flat. Don’t drink it if it is. Draw some more. Mary Ann is gone to bed.”
“All right, auntie. You go to hush-a-by-by too. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”
“Andplease, Daniel, don’t drop your boots on the floor with a bang when you take them off. You wake everyone up. And you will be careful to put the gas out in the kitchen when you come out.”
“Oh, Lord!” muttered Dan, as he heard the faint creaking of the stairs that told him Aunt Lizzie hadretired for the night. “But she is a good sort, though she is such a worrier,” he added, referring to his aunt.
As good as his word, Dan was up to accompany Isabel to the James Allen School, which is situated in Dulwich Grove, and they had one of their own “chummy” talks.
Dan boasted of his riches, and told Isabel that he was getting on so well that she would not need to teach.
She turned a bright face to him, exclaiming: “I won’t give up my independence, Dan! And I love teaching—and just think what it would be to stay at home all day! I should soon become as fidgety as Aunt Lizzie! Dan, you must learn not to notice what she says. She is like Martha—‘troubled about many things’; but I can’t sufficiently admire her unselfish devotion. Lots of people cansaynice things, but few peopledoas many nice things as Aunt Lizzie. Shewillrenovate my gowns for me, and she takes no end of pains to make them look quite up-to-date. As to mother, she looks after her with a patience that would shame many so-called tender nurses.”
“It is all true,” agreed Dan, “but she is an aggravater, all the same. Do you know, when I leave you at the school, I shall go into Sydney Grove and see Colonel Lane. It is quite close. Did you see him when he called? He is an awfully nice old fellow. His daughter is staying with the Barrimores while he is here.”
“No, I was not at home when he called,” said Isabel. “But you must ask him in to supper, and we can go to the studio afterwards.”
“Just what I was intending to do,” he answered. “And to revert to gowns—you have got to let megive you a nice ‘rig’ for the winter—a frock, and hat, and some furs. We will go to Jones and Higgins’ shop at Peckham on Saturday.”
Isabel protested.
“I never argue,” he told her. “I am the master, recollect, and I am in funds. You will have to advise me what to get for mother too. I am determined to make Aunt Lizzie have something. I shall tell her that if she doesn’t, I’ll make a frightful mess with my bath every morning and refuse to rub my shoes when I come in.”
“That ought to have its effect,” laughed Isabel. “But here we are at the school, so good-bye till to-night.”
Dan made his way to Sydney Grove, and Colonel Lane was delighted to see him.
“You must come and chat to Henderson,” he said. “It will do him a lot of good. He is really better.”
It was true that Colonel Henderson was better. The visit of his friend had prolonged his life, as by a miracle. Colonel Lane had tactfully gained over Mrs. Henderson completely, and had delicately introduced much comfort into the poor home.
Thanks to a big cheque fromMr.Burns, great changes had been made in the house. Also a carriage had been hired on fine days, and the invalid had been carried to it, and enjoyed the drives really wonderfully.
The miserable garden, laid waste by the boys, had been put in order, so the outlook was no longer depressing.
Mrs. Henderson had become quite cheerful under the happier state of things, and absolutely worshipped Colonel Lane.
Poor woman! her own health had not been goodsince her stay in India, and what with her poverty, her husband’s illness, her difficulty in dealing with the boys, her life had not been all roses.
Colonel Lane had proved more capable of managing the boys than of managing his own girl. He liked them, too. They were healthy, bright, mischievous boys, with plenty of ability.
Both were overjoyed at the prospect of Sandhurst. It had all been arranged byMr.Burns. They were to have their chance.
Dan stayed at the Hendersons’ about half an hour, and obtained Colonel Lane’s promise to dine at Vine Cottage the following evening. “Supper” would be converted into “dinner” for the occasion.