Wild Heather. Meade L. T.
think you'd fight and probably get your V.C."
"Bless you, child, you talk very nicely. Do you know, I have never met a little girl who talked like this before. I hope we shall see much more of each other, Miss Grayson."
"I hope we shall," I answered.
"I come here a good deal," continued Captain Carbury. "I am a sort of cousin of Lady Carrington's, and she always treats me as though I were her son. There are no people in the world like the Carringtons. By the way, you must be excited, coming up to town just in time for your – "
"In time for what?" I asked.
"Is it possible you don't know?" he said. And he looked full at me with his dark and serious eyes. Just then Lady Carrington came up.
"I am going to take Heather away now for a little time," she said. "Thank you so much, Vernon, for trying to entertain her. We will expect you to dinner this evening – no, I'm afraid Heather won't be here; she will be much occupied for the next few days."
"Well, good-bye, Miss Heather, and thank you so much for putting me into the gallery," said the Captain, and then he left the room.
"He is a very nice man," I said, when he had gone and I was back in the drawing-room. "Do you know many men as nice as Captain Carbury, Lady Carrington?"
"No, I do not," said Lady Carrington, not laughing at my remark, as some women would have done, but pondering over it. "He is one of the best – that is all I can say about him."
I looked across the room. The visitors had gone; Sir John had taken his leave; Captain Carbury was no longer there.
"I want to ask you a question," I said, looking full up into Lady Carrington's face. "Captain Carbury said something to me."
"Yes, dear child. What?"
"He supposed I was glad or excited or something, at being in time for – and then he stopped. Please, Lady Carrington – I see you know it by your eyes – what is it I am in time for?"
"I was going to speak to you about that," said Lady Carrington, with extreme gravity.
"Please do," I said.
She took my hand and pressed it between both her own.
"Sir John and I," she said, "have never been blessed with a little daughter of our very own, so we want you, as much as your father and mother can spare you, to come and be with us. We want you morning, noon, and night – any day or any hour."
"My father and mother!" I said, raising my voice to a shriek. "Lady Carrington, who are you talking about?"
"Of course, dear, she will be only your stepmother."
"Whom do you mean?" I asked. "Please say it out quickly. Is father going to marry? No, it can't be – it shan't be! What is it, please, Lady Carrington – please say it quickly?"
"For many reasons I am sorry, Heather, but we must make the best of things in this world, dear, not the worst. Your father is to be married on Monday next to Lady Helen Dalrymple."
I sat perfectly still after she had spoken. Her news came on me like a mighty shock – I felt quite stunned and cold. At first, too, I did not realise any pain. Then, quickly, and, as it seemed to me, through every avenue in my body at the same moment, pain rushed in – it filled my heart almost to the bursting point. It turned sweetness into bitterness and sunshine into despair. Father! Father! Father! Had I not waited for him, all during the long years? And now!
I felt so distracted that I could not keep still. I stood up and faced Lady Carrington; she put out her hand to touch me – I pushed her hand away. I began to pace up and down the floor. After a few minutes Lady Carrington followed me. Then I turned to her, almost like a little savage. I said:
"Is there anywhere in this big, grand, horrid house where I can be quite alone?"
"Yes, Heather, you shall be quite alone in my bedroom," said Lady Carrington.
I had no manners at that moment, no sense of civility.
"I know the way to your bedroom," I said. I dashed upstairs without waiting for her to lead me; I rushed into the room, I turned the key in the lock, and then I flung myself on the floor. I was alone, thank God for that! How I beat out my own terrible suffering, how I fought and fought and fought with the demon who rent me, I can never describe to any mortal. No tears came to my relief. After a time I sat up. I had so far recovered my self-possession that I could at least remain quiet. I went stealthily towards the big looking-glass; I saw my reflection in it, my little pale face, my dark hair in its orderly curls – those curls which even my tempest of grief could scarcely disarrange, my neat, snuff-coloured brown dress – so old-fashioned and therefore none so beloved. That morning I had gone shopping with her– I had allowed her to buy me dresses on dresses, and hats and toques, and muffs, and gloves, and shoes – oh! I would not touch one of her things! I felt at that moment that I could have killed her! To be torn from father, to find him again and then to lose him, that was the crudest stroke of all!
I looked at my wan face in the glass and hoped that I should die soon; that was the only thing left to wish for – to live in such a way that I should die soon. I thought that I might effect this by a course of starvation. I would begin at once. To-day was Thursday – if I ate nothing at all from the present moment until Monday, there was a good chance of my dying on Monday. That would be the best plan.
There came a tap at the room door.
"It is I, dear," said Lady Carrington.
I even hated kind Lady Carrington at that moment. Had she not given me the news? I went unwillingly and slowly towards the door. I unlocked it and she entered.
"That is right," she said, looking at me and suppressing, as she told me afterwards, a shocked exclamation, "you are calmer now, darling."
"I cannot speak of it," I said.
"Dear child, no one wants you to; and I have been arranging with your father that you are to stay with me for the present."
"Oh, I don't want that," I said, a great lump rising in my throat; "I want to be with him while I can have him. There is only between now – this Thursday – until Monday. I'd like to be with him for that little time."
"But you won't, dear Heather. He will be occupied almost entirely with Lady Helen Dalrymple."
"Then it doesn't matter," I said. "Did you say they were downstairs, Lady Carrington?"
"Yes; they are in the drawing-room; they are waiting for you. They asked me to break it to you, and I did my best."
"I am quite ready to – to see them," I said.
When we reached the drawing-room a servant flung open the door. Lady Carrington went first and I followed.
My father was standing with his profile towards me; he was looking at a newspaper, and I think, just for a second, he was rather shy, although I could not be sure. Lady Helen, however, made up for any awkwardness on his part. She rushed at me and clasped me in her arms.
"Dear little daughter!" she said. "Now you know everything; in future you will be my own little daughter. Think what a splendid time we'll have together! Why, I'll take you everywhere – you won't know yourself. Just tell her, Gordon, what a right good time she'll have with me."
"Jove! I should think so," said my father.
I struggled out of her arms. If I had remained in that hateful embrace for another moment I might have slapped her. I flung myself on father's neck, and kissed him many times, and then, all of a sudden, I began to whisper in his ear.
"Eh, eh? What, what?" he said. "Child, you're tickling me. Oh, you want to speak to me alone! Helen, you won't mind?"
"No, dear, I won't mind."
Lady Helen looked at me out of those strange dark eyes of hers. Her face was brimming all over with good humour, but I know she was not pleased with me at that moment. I had repulsed her advances, and now I was taking father away.
"Here is a little room," said Lady Carrington, "you can both have it to yourselves."
She opened a door,