“I almost feel as though I could walk, too.”
“You must not think of it yet, Mr. Medlicot. It seems almost a wonder that you shouldn’t have to be in bed, and you with your collarbone broken only last night! I don’t know how you can bear it as you do.”
“I shall be so glad I broke it, if one thing will come about.”
“What thing?” asked Kate, blushing.
“Kate—may I call you Kate?”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“You know I love you—do you not? You must know it. Dearest Kate, can you love me and be my wife?”
His left arm was bound up, and was in a sling, but he put out his right hand to take hers—if she would give it to him. Kate Daly had never had a lover before, and felt the occasion to be trying. She had no doubt about the matter. If it were only proper for her to declare herself, she could swear with a safe conscience that she loved him better than all the world. “Put your hand here, Kate,” he said. As the request was not exactly for the gift of her hand, she placed it in his. “May I keep it now?” She could only whisper something which was quite inaudible, even to him. “I shall keep it, and think that you are all my own. Stoop down, Kate, and kiss me, if you love me.”
She hesitated for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. She did love him, and was his own; still, to stoop and kiss a man who, if such a thing were to be allowed at all, ought certainly to kiss her! She did not think she could do that. But then she was bound to protect him, wounded and broken as he was, from his own imprudence; and if she did not stoop to him, he would rise to her. She was still in doubt, still standing with her hand in his, half bending over him, but yet half resisting as she bent, when, all suddenly, Harry Heathcote was on the veranda, followed by the two policemen, who had just returned from Boolabong. She was sure that Harry had seen her, and was by no means sure that she had been quick enough in escaping from her lover’s hand to have been unnoticed by the policemen also. She fled away as though guilty, and could hardly recover herself sufficiently to assist Mrs. Growler in producing the additional dinner which was required.
The two men were quickly sent to their rest, as has been told before; and Harry, who had in truth seen how close to his friend his sister-in-law had been standing, would, had it been possible, have restored the lovers to their old positions; but they were all now on the veranda, and it was impossible. Kate hung back, half in and half out of the sitting-room, and old Mrs. Medlicot had seated herself close to her son. Harry was lying at full length on a rug, and his wife was sitting over him. Then Giles Medlicot, who was not quite contented with the present condition of affairs, made a little speech.
“Mrs. Heathcote,” he said, “I have asked your sister to marry me.”
“Dearie me, Giles!” said Mrs. Medlicot.
Kate remained no longer half in and half out of the parlour, but retreated altogether and hid herself. Harry turned himself over on the rug, and looked up at his wife, claiming infinite credit in that he had foreseen that such a thing might happen.
“And what answer has she given you?” said Mrs. Heathcote.
“She hasn’t given me any answer yet. I wonder what you and Heathcote would say about it?”
“What Kate has to say is much more important,” replied the discreet sister.
“I should like it of all things,” said Harry, jumping up. “It’s always best to be open about these things. When you first came here, I didn’t like you. You took a bit of my river frontage—not that it does me any great harm—and then I was angry about that scoundrel Nokes.”
“I was wrong about Nokes,” said Medlicot, “and have, therefore, had my collarbone broken. As to the land, you’ll forgive my having it if Kate will come and live there?”
“By George! I should think so. Kate, why don’t you come out? Come along, my girl! Medlicot has spoken out openly, and you should answer him in the same fashion.”
So saying, he dragged her forth, and I fear that, as far as she was concerned, something of the sweetness of her courtship was lost by the publicity with which she was forced to confess her love.
“Will you go, Kate, and make sugar down at the mill? I have often thought how bad it would be for Mary and me when you were taken away; but we shan’t mind it so much if we knew that you are to be near us.”
“Speak to him, Kate,” said Mrs. Heathcote, with her arm round her sister’s waist.
“I think she’s minded to have him,” said Mrs. Medlicot.
“Tell me, Kate—shall it be so?” pleaded the lover.
She came up to him and leaned over him, and whispered one word which nobody else heard. But they all knew what the word was. And before they separated for the night she was left alone with him, and he got the kiss for which he was asking when the policemen interrupted them.
“That’s what I call a happy Christmas,” said Harry, as the party finally parted for the night.
Colophon
Harry Heathcote of Gangoil
was published in 1874 by
Anthony Trollope.
This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
David Reimer,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2002 by
Nicole Apostola, Charles Franks, and The Online Distributed Proofreading Team
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans from the
Internet Archive.
The cover page is adapted from
A Break Away!,
a painting completed in 1891 by
Tom Roberts.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and
