'Four days' time,' said Honor, when she had taken in the sense of these appalling tidings. 'We can be at Liverpool to meet him. Do not object, Robert. Nothing else will be bearable to either his sister or me.'
'It was of his sister that I was thinking,' said Robert. 'Do you think her strong enough for the risks of a hurried journey, with perhaps a worse shock awaiting her when the steamer comes in? Will you let me go alone? I have sent orders to be telegraphed for as soon as the Asia is signalled, and if I go at once, I can either send for you if needful, or bring him to you. Will you not let me?'
He spoke with persuasive authority, and Honora half yielded. 'It may be better,' she said, 'it may. A man may do more for him there than we could, but I do not know whether poor Lucy will let you, or-' (as a sudden recollection recurred to her) 'whether she ought.'
'Poor Owen is my friend, my charge,' said Robert.
'I believe you are right, you kind Robin,' said Honor. 'The journey might be a great danger for Lucy, and if I went, I know she would not stay behind. But I still think she will insist on seeing him.'
'I believe not,' said Robert; 'at least, if she regard submission as a duty.'
'Oh, Robin, you do not know. Poor child, how am I to tell her?'
'Would you like for me to do so?' said Robert, in the quiet matter-of-course way of one to whom painful offices had become well-nigh natural.
'You? O Robin, if you-' she said, in some confusion, but at the moment the sound of the visitor's bell startled her, and she was about to take measures for their exclusion, when looking from the window, she saw that the curate of Wrapworth had already been admitted into the court. The next moment she had met him in the hall, and seizing his hand, exclaimed in a hurried whisper, 'I know! I know! But there is a terrible stroke hanging over my poor child. Come in and help us to tell her!'
She drew him into the study, and shut the door. The poor man's sallowness had become almost livid, and in half-sobbing words he exclaimed-'Is it so? Then give her to me at once. I will nurse her to the last, or save her! I knew it was only her being driven out to that miserable governess life that has been destroying her!' and he quite glared upon poor innocent Honor as a murderess.
'Mr. Prendergast, I do not know what you mean. Lucilla is nearly well again. It is only that we fear to give her some bad news of her brother.'
'Her brother! Is that all?' said the curate, in a tone of absolute satisfaction. 'I beg your pardon, Miss Charlecote; I thought I saw a doctor here, and you were going to sentence my darling.'
'You do see Robert Fulmort, whom I thought you knew.'
'So I do,' said Mr. Prendergast, holding out his hand. 'I beg your pardon for having made such a fool of myself; but you see, since I came to an understanding with that dear child, I have not thought of anything else, nor known what I was about.'
Robert could not but look inquiringly at Miss Charlecote.
'Yes,' she faltered, 'Mr. Prendergast has told you-what I could not-what I had not leave to say.'
'Yes,' put in Mr. Prendergast, in his overflowing felicity, 'I see you think it a shocking match for such a little gem of beauty as that; but you young men should have been sharper. There's no accounting for tastes;' and he laughed awkwardly.
'I am heartily glad,' said Robert-and voice, look, and grasp of the hand conveyed the fullest earnestness-'I am exceedingly rejoiced that the dear little friend of all my life should be in such keeping! I congratulate you most sincerely, Mr. Prendergast. I never saw any one so well able to appreciate her.'
That is over, thought Honor; how well he has stood it! And now she ventured to recall them to the subject in hand, which might well hang more heavily on her heart than the sister's fate! It was agreed that Lucilla would bear the intelligence best from Mr. Prendergast, and that he could most easily restrain her desire for going to Liverpool. He offered himself to go to meet Owen, but Honor could not quite forgive the 'Is that all?' and Robert remained constant to his former view, that he, as friend both of Owen and Mr. Currie, would be the most effective. So therefore it stood, and Lucilla was called out of the drawing-room to Mr. Prendergast, as Honor and Robert entered it. It was almost in one burst that Phoebe learnt the brother's accident and the sister's engagement, and it took her several moments to disentangle two such extraordinary events.
'I am very glad,' repeated Robert, as he felt rather than saw that both ladies were regarding him with concealed anxiety; 'it is by far the happiest and safest thing for her! It is an infinite relief to my mind.'
'I can't but be glad,' said Honor; 'but I don't know how to forgive her!'
'That I can do very easily,' said Robert, with a smile on his thin lips that was very reassuring, 'not only as a Christian, but as I believe nothing ever did me so much good. My fancy for her was an incentive which drew me on to get under better influences, and when we threw each other overboard, I could do without it. She has been my best friend, not even excepting you, Miss Charlecote; and as such I hope always to be allowed to regard her. There, Phoebe, you have had an exposition of my sentiments once for all, and I hope I may henceforth receive credit for sincerity.'
Miss Charlecote felt that, under the name of Phoebe, this last reproof was chiefly addressed to her; and perhaps Phoebe understood the same, for there was the slightest of all arch smiles about her full lip and downcast eye; and though she said nothing, her complete faith in her brother's explanation, and her Christian forgiveness of Lucilla, did not quench a strong reserve of wondering indignation at the mixed preferences that had thus strangely settled down upon the old curate.
She followed her brother from the room, to ask whether she had better not leave Woolstone-lane in the present juncture. But there was nowhere for her to go; Beauchamp was shut up, the cottage being painted, Sutton barely held the three present guests, and her elder sister from home. 'You cannot go without making a disturbance,' said Robert; 'besides, I think you ought to stay with Miss Charlecote. Lucilla is of no use to her; and this unlucky Owen is more to her than all the world besides. You may comfort her.'
Phoebe had no more to urge. She could not tell her brother that looks and words of Owen Sandbrook, and in especial his last farewell, which she was at that time too young and simple to understand, had, with her greater experience, risen upon her in an aspect that made her desirous of avoiding him. But, besides the awkwardness of such recollections at all, they seemed cruel and selfish when the poor young man was coming home crippled and shattered, only to die, so she dismissed them entirely, and set herself to listen and sympathize.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Old isle and glorious, I have heard
Thy fame across the sea,
And know my fathers' homes are thine,
My fathers rest with thee.-A Cleveland Lore
'R. M. Fulmort to Miss Charlecote.-The carriage to meet the 6 P.M. train.'
That was all the intelligence that reached Woolstone-lane till the court-gates were opened, and Robert hurried in before the carriage. 'Much better,' he said 'only he is sadly knocked up by the journey. Do not show yourselves till he is in his room. Which is it?'
Honora and Lucilla hastened to point it out, then drew back, and waited, Honor supporting herself against the wall, pale and breathless, Lucy hanging over the balusters, fevered with suspense. She heard the tread, the quick, muttered question and answer; she saw the heavy, helpless weight carried in; and as the steps came upwards, she was pulled back into the sitting-room by Honor, at first almost by force, then with passive, dejected submission, and held tight to the back of a chair, her lip between her teeth, as though withholding herself by force from springing forward as the familiar voice, weak, weary, and uncertain, met her ear.