'Heyday!' cried Dr. May, drawing up his tall vigorous figure, 'does he think me so very ancient and superannuated?'
What could possess him to be so provoking and unsentimental to-night? Was it her own bad management? She longed to put an end to the conversation, and answered, 'No, but he thinks it hard that none of your sons should be willing to relieve you.'
'It won't be Norman,' said Dr. May. 'He is not made of the stuff. If he survived the course of study, every patient he lost, he would bring himself in guilty of murder, and there would soon be an end of him!'
'He says that a man can force himself to anything that is his duty.'
'This is not going to be his duty, if I can make it otherwise. What is the meaning of all this? No, I need not ask, poor boy, it is what I was afraid of!'
'It is far deeper,' said Ethel; and she related great part of what she had heard in the afternoon. It was not easy to make her father listen--his line was to be positively indignant, rather than compassionate, when he heard of the doubts that had assailed poor Norman. 'Foolish boy, what business had he to meddle with those accursed books, when he knew what they were made of--it was tasting poison, it was running into temptation! He had no right to expect to come out safe--' and then he grasped tightly hold of Ethel's hands, and, as if the terror had suddenly flashed on him, asked her, with dilated eye and trembling voice, whether she were sure that he was safe, and held the faith.
Ethel repeated his asseveration, and her father covered his face with his hands in thanksgiving.
After this, he seemed somewhat inclined to hold poor Oxford in horror, only, as he observed, it would be going out of the frying-pan into the fire, to take refuge at Paris--a recurrence to the notion of Norman's medical studies, that showed him rather enticed by the proposal.
He sent Ethel to bed, saying he should talk to Norman and find out what was the meaning of it, and she walked upstairs, much ashamed of having so ill served her brother, as almost to have made him ridiculous.
Dr May and Norman never failed to come to an understanding, and after they had had a long drive into the country together, Dr May told Ethel that he was afraid, of what he ought not to be afraid of, that she was right, that the lad was very much in earnest now at any rate, and if he should continue in the same mind, he hoped he should not be so weak as to hold him from a blessed work.
From Norman, Ethel heard the warmest gratitude for his father's kindness. Nothing could be done yet, he must wait patiently for the present, but he was to write to his uncle, Mr. Arnott, in New Zealand, and, without pledging himself, to make inquiries as to the mission; and in the meantime, return to Oxford, where, to his other studies, he was to add a course of medical lectures, which, as Dr. May said, would do him no harm, would occupy his mind, and might turn to use wherever he was.
Ethel was surprised to find that Norman wrote to Flora an expression of his resolution, that, if he found he could be spared from assisting his father as a physician, he would give himself up to the mission in New Zealand. Why should he tell any one so unsympathetic as Flora, who would think him wasted in either case?
CHAPTER XVII.
Do not fear: Heaven is as near, By water, as by land.--LONGFELLOW.
The fifth of May was poor Harry's eighteenth birthday, and, as usual, was a holiday. Etheldred privately thought his memory more likely to be respected, if Blanche and Aubrey were employed, than if they were left in idleness; but Mary would have been wretched had the celebration been omitted, and a leisure day was never unwelcome.
Dr. Spencer carried off Blanche and Aubrey for a walk, and Ethel found Mary at her great resort--Harry's cupboard--dusting and arranging his books, and the array of birthday gifts, to which, even to-day, she had not failed to add the marker that had been in hand at Christmas. Ethel entreated her to come down, and Mary promised, and presently appeared, looking so melancholy, that, as a sedative, Ethel set her down to the basket of scraps to find materials for a tippet for some one at Cocksmoor, intending, as soon as Margaret should be dressed, to resign her morning to the others, invite Miss Bracy to the drawing-room, and read aloud.
Gertrude was waiting for her walk, till nurse should have dressed Margaret, and was frisking about the lawn, sometimes looking in at the drawing-room window at her sisters, sometimes chattering to Adams at his work, or laughing to herself and the flowers, in that overflow of mirth, that seemed always bubbling up within her.
She was standing in rapt contemplation of a pear-tree in full blossom, her hands tightly clasped behind the back, for greater safety from the temptation, when, hearing the shrubbery gate open, she turned, expecting to see her papa, but was frightened at the sight of two strangers, and began to run off at full speed.
'Stop! Blanche! Blanche, don't you know me?' The voice was that tone of her brother's, and she stood and looked, but it came from a tall, ruddy youth, in a shabby rough blue coat, followed by a grizzled old seaman. She was too much terrified and perplexed even to run.
'What's the matter! Blanche, it is I! Why, don't you know me-- Harry?'
'Poor brother Harry is drowned,' she answered; and, with one bound, he was beside her, and, snatching her up, devoured her with kisses.
'Put me down--put me down, please,' was all she could say.
'It is not Blanche! What? the little Daisy, I do believe!'
'Yes, I am Gertrude, but please let me go;' and, at the same time, Adams hurried up, as if he thought her being kidnapped, but his aspect changed at the glad cry, 'Ha! Adams' how are you? Are they all well?'
''Tisn't never Master Harry! Bless me!' as Harry's hand gave him sensible proof; 'when we had given you up for lost!'
'My father well?' Harry asked, hurrying the words one over the other.
'Quite well, sir, but he never held up his head since he heard it, and poor Miss Mary has so moped about. If ever I thought to see the like--'
'So they did not get my letter, but I can't stop. Jennings will tell you. Take care of him. Come, Daisy--' for he had kept her unwilling hand all the time. 'But what's that for?' pointing to the black ribbons, and, stopping short, startled.
'Because of poor Harry,' said the bewildered child.
'Oh, that's right!' cried he, striding on, and dragging her in a breathless run, as he threw open the well-known doors; and, she escaping from him, hid her face in Mary's lap, screaming, 'He says he is Harry! he says he is not drowned!'
At the same moment Ethel was in his arms, and his voice was sobbing, 'Ethel! Mary! home! Where's papa?' One moment's almost agonising joy in the certainty of his identity! but ere she could look or think, he was crying, 'Mary! oh, Ethel, see--'
Mary had not moved, but sat as if turned to stone, with breath suspended, wide-stretched eyes, and death-like cheeks--Ethel sprang to her, 'Mary, Mary dear, it is Harry! It is himself! Don't you see? Speak to her, Harry.'
He seemed almost afraid to do so, but, recovering himself, exclaimed, 'Mary, dear old Polly, here I am! Oh, won't you speak to me?' he added piteously, as he threw his arm round her and kissed her, startled at the cold touch of her cheek.
The spell seemed broken, and, with a wild hoarse shriek that rang through the house, she struggled to regain her breath, but it would only come in painful, audible catches, as she held Harry's hand convulsively.
'What have I done?' he exclaimed, in distress.
'What's this! Who is this frightening my dear?' was old nurse's exclamation, as she and James came at the outcry.
'Oh, nurse, what have I done to her?' repeated Harry.
'It is joy--it is sudden joy!' said Ethel. 'See, she is better now--'
'Master Harry! Well, I never!' and James, 'with one wring of the hand, retreated, while old nurse was nearly hugged to death, declaring all the time that he didn't ought to have come in such a way, terrifying every one out of their senses! and as for poor Miss May--
'Where is she? ' cried Harry, starting at the sight of the vacant sofa.
'Only upstairs,' said Ethel; 'but where's Alan? Is not he come?'
'Oh, Ethel, don't you know?' His face told but too plainly.
'Nurse! nurse, how shall we tell her?' said Ethel.
