Love and Life

Their voices were at this moment heard, and in another second Aurelia was held against her father's breast, as in broken words he sobbed out thanks for her restoration, and implored her pardon for having trusted her out of his care.

'Oh! sir, do not speak so! Dear papa, I have tried hard to do you no harm, and to behave well. Please, sir, give me your blessing.'

'God bless you indeed, my child. He has blessed you in guarding you as your innocence deserved, though I did not. Ah! others are impatient. The poor old father comes second now.'

After a few minutes spent in repairing the disorder of her dress, and her hands in those of her father and little brother, she was led to the outer room where in the twilight there was a rapturous rush, an embrace, a fondling of the hand in the manner more familiar to her than the figure from before whom it proceeded. She only said in her gentle plaintive tone, 'Oh, sir, it was not my fault. They took away your rings.'

'Nay,' said a voice, new to her, 'here are your rings, Lady Belamour. I must trust to your Christian charity to pardon her who caused you to be stripped of them.'

The name of Lady Belamour made her start as that of her enemy, but a truly familiar tone said, 'You need not fear, my kind friend. This is Mr. Wayland, who, to our great joy, has returned, and has come to restore your jewels.'

'Indeed I am very glad yours is not lost,' said Aurelia, not a little bewildered.

Mr. Wayland said a few words of explanation that his wife's agent at Greenwich had brought them back to her.

'Pray let me have them,' entreated Sir Amyas; 'I must put them on again!'

'Stay,' said Major Delavie; 'I can have such things done only under true colours and in the full light of day. The child is scarcely awake yet, and does not know one from the other! Why neither of you so much as know the colour of the eyes of the other! Can you tell me sir?'

'Heavenly,' exclaimed the youth, in an ecstatic tone of self-defence, which set the Major laughing and saying, 'My silly maid knows as little which gentleman put on the ring.'

'I do, sir,' said Aurelia indignantly; 'I know his voice and hand quite well,' and in the impulse she quitted her father's arm and put both hands into those of her young adorer, saying, 'Pray sir, pardon me, I never thought to hurt you so cruelly.'

There was a cry of, 'My own, my dearest life,' and she was clasped as she had been immediately after her strange wedding.

However, the sound of a servant's step made them separate instantly, and Betty begged that the supper might not be removed, since it was many hours since her sister had tasted food.

Sir Amyas and Betty hovered about her, giving her whatever she could need, in the partial light, while the others stood apart, exchanging such explanations as they could. Mr. Wayland said he must report himself to Government on the morrow; but intended afterwards to take his wife to Bowstead, whither she had sent all her children with Mrs. Dove. There was a great tenderness in his tone as he spoke of her, and when he took leave Mr. Belamour shrugged his shoulders saying, 'She will come round him again!'

'It is true enough that he ought not to have left her to herself,' said the Major.

'You making excuses for her after the diabolical plot of to-day?' said Mr. Belamour; 'I could forgive her all but that letter to you.'

'My Lady loves her will,' quoted the Major; 'it amounts to insanity in some women, I believe.'

'So I might say does men's infatuation towards women like her,' muttered Mr. Belamour.

By this time Aurelia had finished her meal, and Betty was anxious to carry her off without any more excitement, for she was still drowsy and confused. She bade her father good night, asking his blessing as of old, but when Mr. Belamour kissed her hand and repeated the good night, she said, 'Sir, I ought to have trusted you; I am so sorry.'

'It is all well now, my child,' he said, soothingly, understanding Betty's wish; 'Sleep, and we will talk it over.'

So the happy sisters once more slept in each other's arms, till in the early summer morning Betty heard the whole story from Aurelia, now fully herself, though she slumbered again after all was poured into her sister's bosom.

Betty had sympathised step by step, and felt even more strongly than Harriet that the situation had been intolerable for womanhood, and that only Aurelia's childishness could have endured it so long. Only the eldest sister held that it would have been right and honourable to have spoken before flashing out the flame; but when, with many tears of contrition, Aurelia owned that she had long thought so, and longed to confess it, what could the motherly sister do but kiss the tears away, and rejoice that the penance was over which had been borne with such constancy and self-devotion.

Then Betty rose quietly, and after giving thanks on her knees that the gentle spirit had passed through all unscathed, untainted with even the perception of evil, she applied herself to the adaptation of one of her morning caps to her poor shorn lamb's head. Nor did Aurelia wake again till her father came to the door to make sure that all was well with his recovered treasure, and to say that Loveday would recover for her the box of clothes, which old Madge had hidden.

Loveday had gone back to her mistress, who either had not discovered her betrayal, or, as things had turned out, could not resent it.

So, fresh and blooming, Aurelia came out into the sitting-room, whence her father held out his arms to her. He would have her all to himself for a little while, since even Eugene was gone to his daily delight, the seeing the changing of the guard.

'And now, my child, tell me,' he said, when he had heard a little of her feelings through these adventures, 'what would you have me do? Remember, such a wedding as yours goes for nothing, and you are still free to choose either or neither of your swains.'

'Oh, papa!' in a remonstrating tone.

'You were willing to wed your old hermit?'

'I was content then. He was very kind to me.'

'Content then, eh? Suppose you were told he was your real husband?'

'Sir, he is not!' cried Aurelia, frightened.

'If he were?'

'I would try to do my duty,' she said, in a choked voice.

'Silly child, don't cry. And how, if after these fool's tricks it turns out that the other young spark is bound to that red-faced little spitfire and cannot have you?'

'Papa, don't!' she cried. 'You know he is my husband in my heart, and always will be, and if he cannot come back to me take me home, and I will try to be a good daughter to you,' and she hid her face on his shoulder.

'Poor child, it is a shame to tease her,' said her father, raising up her face; 'I only wanted to know which of them you would wish to put on the ring again. I see. You need not be afraid, you shall have the ruby one. But as for the little gold one, wait for that till it is put on in church, my dear. Ah! and there's the flutter of his wings, or rather the rattle of his spurs. Now then, young people, you shall not be hindered from a full view of each others lineaments. It is the first time you ever had a real sight of each other, neither of you being in a swoon, is it not? I trust you do not repent upon further acquaintance. Aurelia got as far as the shoe-buckles once, I believe.'

'She will get no farther this time, sir, if you annihilate her with your pleasantry,' said Betty, fully convinced by this time.

'Ah! young Love has made himself more dazzling than ever,' continued the Major, too delighted to be stopped. 'The fullest dress uniform, I declare; M. le Capitaine is bent on doing honour to the occasion.'

'Would that it were on for no other reason, sir,' said Sir Amyas; 'but the King and Queen have taken it into their heads to go off to Kew and here am I under orders to command the escort. I verily believe it is all spite on the Colonel's part, for Russell would have exchanged the turn with me, but he sent down special orders for me. I have but half an hour to spend here, and when I shall be able to get back again Heaven only knows.'

However, he and Aurelia were permitted to improve that half hour to the utmost in their own way, while the Major and Betty were reading a long and characteristic letter from Mrs. Arden, inquiring certainly for her sister's fate, but showing far more solicitude in proving that she (Harriet Arden) had acted a wise, prudent, and sisterly part, and that it was most unreasonable and cruel to treat her as accountable for her sister's disappearance. It was