Philippa

by Mrs. Molesworth

Merle-in-the-Wold.' Ah, yes," Mrs Raynsworth wenton, "that shows that she meant to tell you. She adds also somethingabout Mr Gresham's being such a pleasant neighbour."

  "It does sound delightful," said Philippa, with sparkling eyes. "I dohope it will be soon decided about I shall have to try to forget aboutit, or I shall be able to think of nothing else."

  "It is not likely that we shall be kept very long in suspense," said hermother, "for Evelyn and Duke will be back in a week, and by that timethey are sure to know."

  Even a week, however, seems to extend itself magically, if one--especially if "one" is young and eager--has any great reason for wishingit over. But the first glance at her sister and brother-in-law's brightfaces as the familiar old Marlby fly drew up at the Greenleaves doortold that all was right, and Philippa's heart rebounded with joy.

  "Isn't it too lovely, Phil?" whispered Evelyn already, as they werecrossing the hall. "Mamma has told you what we have been hoping, hasn'tshe? I told her she might, though Duke wanted to tell papa and Charleyhimself."

  "And is it really settled, then?" asked Phil; "if so, it _is_ almost toolovely as you say."

  "Yes, it is settled, quite settled. Duke wrote about retiring before weleft Wyverston. That is the only melancholy bit of it, for he has beenso happy in his regiment, and he loves his work. It was better for himto do it there--on the spot, as it were--when the _family_ feeling couldkeep him up to knowing it was right. Poor old Duke! The squire did sounderstand and liked him the better for it, I could see. And I was gladfor them all to feel that there _is_ sacrifice even in his accepting theposition of future head of the house. And--but I must wait tillafterwards to tell you everything. I think I shall have to talk for aweek without stopping, once Duke lets me."

  They were in the drawing-room by this time, where all the others werewaiting to receive the travellers. For the Raynsworths were"old-fashioned" enough to be a very united family. The comings andgoings of any among them were of interest to the others; their joys andsorrows were common to all, and Duke Headfort, from his somewhat lonelyand isolated position before his marriage, seemed at Greenleaves, forthe first time, to learn what home life and home affections are.

  And even now, when his own kinsfolk had so unexpectedly made thosefriendly overtures to him, and his future position bade fair to be aprominent and prosperous one, Captain Headfort was far too steady andloyal to change.

  "_Whatever_ the squire does for me, and however kind and cousinly theyall are," he said to his wife, "I can never but know that the _first_reason is that I am a Headfort. They thought little and cared lessabout me till fate, in a sense, forced them to do so. And I don't inthe least blame them. It was only natural, and I am grateful to themnow for the kind and hearty way in which they are acting. For at bestit must be terribly bitter to them to see a stranger in their son'splace. But they can never be to me what your people are, Evey. Yourdear people, who welcomed me as a son and a brother, as cordially as ifI had been a duke or a millionaire."

  "Far more than if you had been either one or the other," said Evelyn,adding, with a smile: "but then, you know, Duke, it was partly for mysake, because I had fallen in love with you."

  "Well, what is done for your sake only doubles its value in my eyes," hesaid.

  It can readily be imagined, in such circumstances, how _very_ good thegood news the young husband and wife brought back seemed to the littlecircle at home. Almost indeed at first it sounded "too good to betrue," and it was not till Captain Headfort, with the practicalmatter-of-fact grasp of things which was a part of his character, wenton to give details about going down to see the place and settle what hadto be done, and how soon they could take up their residence there, andso on, that they all began to breathe more freely and feel that it was_real_.

  "You must come with us, Phil, when we go to spy the land," said Evelyn."We shall be ever so much the better for your advice and taste."

  And this time Philippa brought forward no excuses for not falling inwith her sister's wishes, though Brierly--Evelyn's new home--was withina drive of Merle-in-the-Wold.

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  A VISITOR IN A HANSOM.

  A day or two after the Headforts' return to Greenleaves, Philippa got aletter from Maida Lermont. The Dorriford people were now at _home_again, but they had travelled back by slow stages, and this was only thesecond time that any direct news of them had come since Mr Raynsworthand his daughter had left Cannes.

  Miss Lermont wrote cheerfully. She was feeling so well, she said, farbetter than "this time last _year_," and she was looking forward toseeing her cousin before long, though how or when exactly she could notsay--it was more "a sort of presentiment." She gave a few details, withthe graphic interest of touch peculiar to her, of their journeyhomewards and certain new sights and experiences it had offered. Andthen at the close came a mention of the name which, almost unconsciouslyto herself, Philippa had been looking for all through the letter.

  "I hear from the Bertrams that Mr Gresham has been down at Merle, butonly for a short time," she wrote. "They will be seeing him in townnext week when they go up. He has been very busy about something orother, I forget what--oh, yes, I know--some electioneering through anunexpected vacancy." And at the _very_ end she added: "I forgot to giveyou Aline Worthing's love, though I faithfully promised her to do so.They left Cannes the same day you did, but by a different route, so Idid not see them again there, but we came across them in Paris."

  These two fragments of gossip did not detract from the generallypleasurable feeling which Miss Lermont's letter left on her cousin'smind. She was glad to know that Mr Gresham had been "unusually busy,"for--a girl's fancy is an unmanageable thing--in spite of her strongself-control, Philippa, at the bottom of her heart, knew that she wasnot always mistress of her own thoughts. And now that several weeks hadelapsed since her return and his, for he had told her he meant to besoon in England again, and he had made no sign, not even a letter toEvelyn, certain painful possibilities had now and then suggestedthemselves. Had the woman, Bailey, who, for some reason or other,seemed to have become her enemy, had Bailey done or said something? Hadshe retailed her discovery to Mrs Worthing, and had Mrs Worthing--afaint sick feeling came over Philippa at this stage of her conjectures,and she went no further with them, for what sort of interpretation acoarse, vulgar mind might give to what she had done, she was at a lossto imagine.

  "She would probably say I had done it for a wager, or some hatefulpractical joke--just the kind of thing _he_ would abhor," she thought.

  So in addition to the satisfaction of learning that Mr Gresham had beenunusually occupied, was that of hearing that the Worthings had leftCannes so quickly.

  "They cannot have met again," thought Philippa to herself. And herheart grew lighter at once.

  "If only," she went on thinking, "if _only_ I knew him well enough, or--or had any reason for telling him all about it--the whole story--_what_a relief it would be! And even Michael Gresham, rough and ready as heis, _so_ different from his cousin, once he knew the whole, was reallykind and I don't think he looked down upon me for it. What he hated, Ican see now, was the feeling that I was deceitful and unstraightforward.And Mr Gresham understands shades of thought and feeling sowonderfully--almost like a woman. Oh, no, it could not do me any harmin any real friend's opinion if I could tell it all myself in the firstplace."

  And perhaps she was right.

  "Philippa," said Evelyn, one morning, "I have ever so many messages foryou from Mrs Shepton--dutiful regards or affectionate respects, orsomething of that kind. She was sorely put to it to find out how toexpress herself correctly, with proper respect, I mean, and yet with theaffection she really does feel for you. She _is_ a nice woman and sodevoted to Bonny. I only hope--" But here Mrs Marmaduke Headforthesitated.

  "Go on," said Philippa, "I don't mind any allusions now. And I loveMrs Shepton. Nothing she could say would vex me."

  "You are wrong for once," said Evelyn. "It wasn't anyt
hing about you Iwas going to say. It was only that I do devoutly hope if ever I come tobe--well, at the head of things at Wyverston, that I shall find MrsShepton still there. And I hesitated, because it seems horridlycold-blooded to think of the dear old squire's death."

  "Yes," her sister agreed, "it does. Still he is an old man, and ofcourse he now _wants_ Duke to be recognised as his heir. That makes adifference. I should not think Mrs Shepton at all a lover of change.I daresay she will end her days at Wyverston. She has only been in twoplaces in her life--first as nurse in one of the Gresham families, andthen, after a few years of married life, as