Margaret found an opportunity of talking to Norman, and judged favourably. He was much pleased at the prospect of the journey, and of seeing a ship, so as to have a clearer notion of the scene where Harry's life was to be spent, and though the charge of the arm was a drawback, he did not treat it as insurmountable.
A few days' attendance in his father's room gave him confidence in taking Richard's place, and, accordingly, the third important measure was decided on, namely, that he and his father should accompany Harry to the naval school, and be absent three nights. Some relations would be glad to receive them in London, and Alan Ernescliffe, who was studying steam navigation at Woolwich, volunteered to meet them, and go with them to Portsmouth.
It was a wonderful event; Norman and Harry had never been beyond Whitford in their lives, and none of the young ones could recollect their papa's ever going from home for more than one night. Dr. May laughed at Margaret for her anxiety and excitement on the subject, and was more amused at overhearing Richard's precise directions to Norman over the packing up.
'Ay, Ritchie,' said the doctor, as he saw his portmanteau locked, and the key given to Norman, 'you may well look grave upon it. You won't see it look so tidy when it comes back again, and I believe you are thinking it will be lucky if you see it at all.'
There was a very affectionate leave-taking of Harry, who, growing rather soft-hearted, thought it needful to be disdainful, scolded Mary and Blanche for 'lugging off his figure-head,' and assured them they made as much work about it as if he was going to sea at once. Then, to put an end to any more embraces, he marched off to the station with Tom, and nearly caused the others to be too late, by the search for him that ensued.
In due time, Dr. May and Norman returned, looking the better for the journey. There was, first, to tell of Harry's school and its master, and Alan Ernescliffe's introduction of him to a nice-looking boy of his own age; then they were eloquent on the wonders of the dockyard, the Victory, the block machinery. And London--while Dr. May went to transact some business, Norman had been with Alan at the British Museum, and though he had intended to see half London besides, there was no tearing him away from the Elgin marbles; and nothing would serve him, but bringing Dr. May the next morning to visit the Ninevite bulls. Norman further said, that whereas papa could never go out of his house without meeting people who had something to say to him, it was the same elsewhere. Six acquaintances he had met unexpectedly in London, and two at Portsmouth.
So the conversation went on all the evening, to the great delight of all. It was more about things than people, though Flora inquired after Mr. Ernescliffe, and was told he had met them at the station, had been everywhere with them, and had dined at the Mackenzies' each day. 'How was he looking?' Ethel asked; and was told pretty much the same as when he went away; and, on a further query from Flora, it appeared that an old naval friend of his father's had hopes of a ship, and had promised to have him with him, and thereupon warm hopes were expressed that Harry might have a berth in the same.
'And when is he coming here again, papa?' said Ethel.
'Eh! oh! I can't tell. I say, isn't it high time to ring?'
When they went up at night, every one felt that half the say had not been said, and there were fresh beginnings on the stairs. Norman triumphantly gave the key to Richard, and then called to Ethel, 'I say, won't you come into my room while I unpack?'
'Oh, yes, I should like it very much.'
Ethel sat on the bed, rolled up in a cloak, while Norman undid his bag, announcing at the same time, 'Well, Ethel, papa says I may get to my Euripides to-morrow, if I please, and only work an hour at a time!'
'Oh, I am so glad. Then he thinks you quite well?'
'Yes, I am quite well. I hope I've done with nonsense.'
'And how did you get on with his arm?'
'Very well--he was so patient, and told me how to manage. You heard that Sir Matthew said it had got much better in these few weeks. Oh, here it is! There's a present for you.'
'Oh, thank you. From you, or from papa?'
'This is mine. Papa has a present for every one in his bag. He said, at last, that a man with eleven children hadn't need to go to London very often.'
'And you got this beautiful 'Lyra Innocentium' for me? How very kind of you, Norman. It is just what I wished for. Such lovely binding-- and those embossed edges to the leaves. Oh! they make a pattern as they open! I never saw anything like it.'
'I saw such a one on Miss Rivers's table, and asked Ernescliffe where to get one like it. See, here's what my father gave me.'
''Bishop Ken's Manual'. That is in readiness for the Confirmation.'
'Look. I begged him to put my name, though he said it was a pity to do it with his left hand; I didn't like to wait, so I asked him at least to write N. W. May, and the date.'
'And he has added Prov. xxiii. 24, 25. Let me look it out.' She did so, and instead of reading it aloud, looked at Norman full of congratulation.
'How it ought to make one--'and there Norman broke off from the fullness of his heart.
'I'm glad he put both verses' said Ethel presently. 'How pleased with you he must be!'
A silence while brother and sister both gazed intently at the crooked characters, till at last Ethel, with a long breath, resumed her ordinary tone, and said, 'How well he has come to write with his left hand now.'
'Yes. Did you know that he wrote himself to tell Ernescliffe Sir Matthew's opinion of Margaret?'
'No: did he?'
'Do you know, Ethel,' said Norman, as he knelt on the floor, and tumbled miscellaneous articles out of his bag, 'it is my belief that Ernescliffe is in love with her, and that papa thinks so.'
'Dear me!' cried Ethel, starting up. 'That is famous. We should always have Margaret at home when he goes to sea!'
'But mind, Ethel, for your life you must not say one word to any living creature.'
'Oh, no, I promise you I won't, Norman, if you'll only tell me how you found it out.'
'What first put it in my head was the first evening, while I was undoing the portmanteau; my father leaned on the mantel-shelf, and sighed and muttered, 'Poor Ernescliffe! I wish it may end well.' I thought he forgot that I was there, so I would not seem to notice, but I soon saw it was that he meant.'
'How?' cried Ethel eagerly.
'Oh, I don't know--by Alan's way.'
'Tell me--I want to know what people do when they are in love.'
'Nothing particular,' said Norman, smiling.
'Did you hear him inquire for her? How did he look?'
'I can't tell. That was when he met us at the station before I thought of it, and I had to see to the luggage. But I'11 tell you one thing, Ethel; when papa was talking of her to Mrs. Mackenzie, at the other end of the room, all his attention went away in an instant from what he was saying. And once, when Harry said something to me about her, he started, and looked round so earnestly.'
'Oh, yes--that's like people in books. And did he colour?'
'No; I don't recollect that he did,' said Norman; 'but I observed he never asked directly after her if he could help it, but always was trying to lead, in some round-about way, to hearing what she was doing.'
'Did he call her Margaret?'
'I watched; but to me he always said, 'Your sister,' and if he had to speak of her to papa, he said, 'Miss May.' And then you should have seen his attention to papa. I could hardly get a chance of do, anything for papa.'
'Oh, sure of it' cried Ethel, clasping her hands. 'But, poor man, how unhappy he must have been at having to go away when she was so ill!'
'Ay, the last time he saw her was when he carried her upstairs.'
'Oh, dear! I hope he will soon come here again!'
'I don't suppose he will. Papa did not ask him.'
'Dear me, Norman! Why not? Isn't papa very fond of him? Why shouldn't he come?'
'Don't you see, Ethel, that would be of no use while poor Margaret is no better. If he gained her affections, it would only make her unhappy.'
'Oh, but she is much better. She can raise herself up now without help, and sat up ever so long this morning, without leaning back on her cushions. She is getting well--you know Sir Matthew said she would.'
'Yes; but I suppose papa thinks they had better say nothing till she is quite well.'
