Greatheart - Ethel May Dell (the lemonade war series TXT) 📗

laid up in store for me. I am moving forward towards it every day."
She ceased to speak, and again for the space of seconds the silence fell.
Scott broke it, speaking slowly, as if not wholly certain of the wisdom of speech. "I did not know," he said, "that you had lost those letters."
Her face contracted momentarily with the memory of a past pain. "Eustace destroyed them," she stated simply.
His brows drew sharply together. "Isabel! Do you mean that?"
She pressed his hand. "Yes, dear. I knew you would feel it badly so I didn't tell you before. He acted for the best. I see that quite clearly now. And--in a sense--the best has come of it."
Scott got to his feet with the gesture of a man who can barely restrain himself. "He did--that?" he said.
She reached up a soothing hand. "My dear, it doesn't matter now. Don't be angry with him. I know that he meant well."
Scott's eyes looked down into hers, intensely bright, burningly alive. "No wonder," he said, breathing deeply, "that you never want to see him again!"
"No, Stumpy; that is not so." Gently she made answer; her hand held his almost pleadingly. "For a long time I felt like that, it is true. But now it is all over. There is no bitterness left in my heart at all. We have grown away from each other, he and I. But we were very close friends once, and because of that I would give much--oh, very much--to be friends with him again. It was in a very great measure my selfishness that came between us, my pride too. I had influence with him, Stumpy, and I didn't try to use it. I simply threw him off because he disapproved of my husband. I might have won him, I feel that I could have won him if I had tried. But I wouldn't. And afterwards, when my mind was clouded, my influence was all gone. I wish I could get it back again. I feel as if I might. But he is keeping away now because of Dinah. And I am afraid too that he feels I do not want him--" her eyes were suddenly dim with tears. "That is not so, Stumpy. I do want him. Sometimes--in the night--I long for him. But, for little Dinah's sake--"
She paused, for Scott had suddenly turned and was pacing the room rapidly, unevenly, as if inaction had become unendurable.
She lay and watched him while the great tears gathered and ran down her wasted face.
He came back to her at length and saw them. He stood a moment looking downwards, then knelt beside her and very tenderly wiped them away.
"My dear," he said softly, "you mustn't ever cry again. It breaks my heart to see you. If you want Eustace, he shall come to you. Dinah was speaking to me about it only a short time ago. She will not stand in the way of his coming. In fact, I gathered that if you wish it, she wishes it also."
"That is so like little Dinah," whispered Isabel. "But, Stumpy, do you think we ought to let her face that?"
"I shall be here," he said.
"Oh, yes, dear. You will be here." She regarded him wistfully. "Stumpy, don't'--don't let yourself get bitter against Eustace!" she pleaded. "You have always been so splendid, so forbearing, till now."
Scott's lips were stern. "Some things are hard to forgive, Isabel," he said.
"But if I forgive--" she said.
His face changed; he bowed his head suddenly down upon her pillow. "Nothing will give you back to me--when you are gone," he whispered.
Her hand was on his head in a moment. "Oh, my dear, are you grieving because of that? And I have been such a burden to you!"
"A burden beloved," he said, speaking with difficulty. "And you were getting better. You were better. He--threw you back again. He brought you--to this."
Her fingers pressed his forehead. "Not entirely, Stumpy. Be generous, dear! It may have hastened matters a little--only a very little. And even so, what of it, if the journey has been shortened? Perhaps the way has been a little steeper, but it has brought me more quickly to my goal. Stumpy, Stumpy, if it weren't for leaving you, I would go as gladly--as gladly--as a happy bride--to her wedding."
She broke off, breathing fast.
He lifted his head swiftly, and saw the shadow of mortal pain gathering in her eyes. He commanded himself on the instant and rose. Self-contained and steady, he found and administered the remedy that was always kept at hand.
Then, as the spasm passed, he stooped and quietly kissed the white forehead. "Don't trouble about me, dear!" he said. "God knows I would not keep you from your rest."
And with that calmly he turned and left her.
But Biddy, whom he sought a few moments later to send her to her mistress, saw in him notwithstanding his composure, an intensity of suffering that struck dismay to her honest heart. "The Lord preserve us!" she said. "But Master Scott has the look of a man with a sword in his soul!" She wiped her own tears away with a trembling hand. "And what'll he do at all when Miss Isabel's gone," she said, "unless Miss Dinah does the comforting of him?"


CHAPTER XXV
THE TRUSTY FRIEND

The trains from the junction to Heath-on-Sea were few and invariably late. Scott had been pacing the platform for half an hour on the evening of the day that followed his own arrival ere a line of distant smoke told of the coming of the train he was awaiting.
His movements were slow and weary, but there was about him the strained look of a man who cannot rest. There was no gladness of welcome in his eyes as the train drew near. It was rather as if he braced himself for a coming ordeal.
He searched the carriages intently as they ran past him, and a flicker of recognition came into his face at the sight of a tall figure leaning from one of them. He lifted a hand in salutation, and limped along the platform to meet the newcomer.
Sir Eustace was out of the train before anyone else. He met his brother with the impetuosity of one who cannot stop for greeting.
"Ah, Stumpy! I'm not too late?"
There was strain upon his face also as he flung the question, and in an instant Scott's look had changed. He grasped the outflung hand.
"No, no, old fellow! It's all right. She is looking forward to seeing you."
Sir Eustace drew a sharp breath. His dark face relaxed a little. "I've had a hell of a time," he said.
"My dear chap, I'm sorry," impulsively Scott made answer. "I'd have met you at the junction, only it was difficult to get away for so long. Do you mind walking up? They'll see to fetching your traps along presently."
"Oh, all right. Yes, let us walk by all means!" Eustace expanded his chest, and breathed again, deeply. He put his hand on Scott's shoulder as they passed through the barrier. "What's the matter with you, my lad?" he said.
Scott glanced up at him--a swift, surprised glance. "With me? Nothing. I am--as usual."
Eustace's hawk-eyes scanned him closely. "I've never seen you look worse," he said.
Scott raised his shoulder slightly under his hand, and said nothing. The first involuntary kindliness of greeting passed wholly away, as if it had not been.
Eustace linked the hand in his arm as they walked. "Tell me about her!" he said.
"About Isabel?" Scott spoke with very obvious constraint. "There isn't much to tell. She is just--going. These breathless attacks come very frequently, and she is weaker after each one. The doctor says it would not be surprising if she went in her sleep, or in fact at any time."
"And she asked for me?" The question fell curtly; Eustace was looking straight ahead up the white, dusty road as he uttered it.
"Yes; she wanted you." Equally curtly came Scott's reply. He ignored the hand on his arm, limping forward at his own pace and leaving his brother to accommodate himself to it as best he could.
Sir Eustace sauntered beside him in silence for a space. They were approaching the heath-clad common that gave the place its name, when he spoke again.
"And Dinah?" he said then.
Again Scott glanced upwards, his pale eyes very resolute. "Yes, Dinah is still here. Her people seem quite indifferent as to what becomes of her, and Isabel wishes to keep her with her. I hope--" he hesitated momentarily--"I hope you will bear in mind the extreme difficulty of her situation."
Sir Eustace passed over the low words. "And what is going to happen to her--afterwards?" he said.
"Heaven knows!" Scott spoke as one compelled.
Sir Eustace continued to gaze straight before him. "Haven't you thought of any solution to the difficulty?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Scott's voice rang suddenly stern.
A faint smile touched his brother's face; it was like the shadow of his old, supercilious sneer. "It occurred to me that you, being a chivalrous knight, might be moved to offer her your protection," he explained coolly. "You are quite at liberty to do so, so far as I am concerned. I give you my free consent."
Scott started, as if he had been stung. "Man, don't sneer at me!" he said in a voice that quivered. "I've a good many things against you, and I'm damned if I can stand any more!"
There was desperation in his words. Sir Eustace's brows went up, and his smile departed. But there came no answering anger in his eyes.
He was silent for several moments, pacing forward, his hand no longer linked in Scott's arm. Then at last very quietly he spoke. "You're right. You have a good many things against me. But this is not one of them. I was not sneering at you."
There was a note of most unwonted sincerity in his voice that gave conviction to his words. Scott turned and regarded him in open amazement.
The steel-blue eyes met his with an odd, half-shamed expression. "You mustn't bully me, you know, Stumpy!" he said. "Remember, I can't hit back."
Scott stood still. He had never in his life been more astounded. Even then, with the direct evidence before him, he could hardly believe that the old haughty dominance had given place to something different.
"Why--can't you--hit back?" he said, almost stammering in his uncertainty.
Sir Eustace smiled again with rueful irony. "Because I've nothing to hit with, my son. Because you can break through my defence every time. If I were to kick you from here to the sea, you'd still have the best of me. Haven't you realized that yet?"
"I hadn't--no!" Scott's eyes still regarded him with a puzzled, half-suspicious expression.
Sir Eustace turned from their scrutiny, and began to walk on. "You will presently," he said. "The man who masters himself is always the man to master the rest of the world in the end. I never thought I should live to envy you, my boy. But I do."
"Envy me! Why? Why on earth?" Embarrassment mingled with the curiosity in Scott's voice. His hostility had gone down utterly before the unaccustomed humility of his brother's attitude.
Sir Eustace glanced at him sideways. "I'll tell you another time," he said. "Now look here, Stumpy! You're in command, and I shan't interfere with you so long as you take reasonable care of yourself. But you must do that. It is the one thing I am going to insist upon. That's understood, is it?"
Scott smiled, his tired, gentle smile. "Oh, certainly, my dear chap. Don't you worry yourself about that!