Milly Darrell

not see much of her. The Collingwoodswere full of sympathy for their 'darling Milly,' and their affectionhad some cheering influence upon her mind. From them she heardoccasionally of Mr. Egerton, who was travelling in the wildest regionsof Northern Europe. She very rarely spoke of him herself at this time;and once when I mentioned his name she checked me reproachfully.

  'Don't speak about him, Mary,' she said; 'I don't want to think of him.It seems like a kind of treason against papa. It seems like takingadvantage of my dear father's death.'

  'Would you refuse to marry him, Milly, if he were to come back to you,now that you are your own mistress?'

  'I don't know that, dear. I think I love him too much to do that. Andyet it would seem like a sin against my father.'

  The spring months passed, and Milly brightened a little as the dayswent by. She spent a deal of time amongst the poor; and I think herdevotion to that duty helped her to put aside her sorrow more thananything else could have done. I was always with her, sharing in allher work; and I do not believe she had a thought hidden from me at thistime.

  Mrs. Darrell had not gone abroad yet. She lived a useless, listlesslife, doing nothing, and caring for nothing, as it seemed. More thanonce she made preparations for her departure, and then changed her mindat the last moment.

  Late in June we heard of Mr. Egerton's return to Cumber; and a few daysafter that he came to Thornleigh. Mrs. Darrell was in her own room,Milly and I alone in the drawing-room, when he called. My poor girlturned very pale, and the tears came into her eyes as she and AngusEgerton met. He spoke of her loss with extreme delicacy, and was fullof tender sympathy. He had news to tell her of himself. A distantrelation of his mother's had died lately, leaving him six thousand ayear. He had come back to restore Cumber to its old splendour, and totake his proper place in the county.

  While they were talking together in low confidential tones, not at allembarrassed by my presence, Mrs. Darrell came into the room. She waspaler than usual; but there was an animation in her face that had notbeen there for a long time. She received Mr. Egerton very graciously,and insisted upon his staying to dinner.

  The evening passed very pleasantly. I had never seen Augusta Darrell soagreeable, so fascinating, as she was that night. She touched the pianofor the first time since her husband's death, and sang and played withall her old fire, keeping Angus Egerton a prisoner by the side of thepiano. Hers was not music to be heard with indifference by the coldestear.

  He came again very soon, and came often. The restorations at Cumber hadbegun, and he insisted on our driving over to see what he was going todo. We went in compliance with this wish, and I could not but observehow anxiously he questioned Milly as to her opinion of the alterations,and how eagerly he sought for suggestions as to the arrangement anddecoration of the different rooms. We spent some hours in thisinspection, and stayed to luncheon, in the noble old tapestrieddrawing-room.

  It was not very long before Mr. Egerton had renewed his suit, and hadbeen accepted. Had Mr. Darrell lived, the altered circumstances of thesuitor would, in all probability, have made some alteration in hisideas upon this subject. He could no longer have supposed Angus Egertoninfluenced by mercenary feelings.

  My darling seemed perfectly happy in her engagement, and I shared herhappiness. I was always to live with her, she said, at Cumber as wellas at Thornleigh. She had told Angus this, and he was pleased that itshould be so. I thought that she would have no need of me in her weddeddays, and that this loving fancy of hers was not likely to be realised;but I allowed her to cherish it--time enough for our parting when itneeds must come. My youth had been brightened by her love; and I shouldbe brave enough to face the world alone when she began her new life,assured that in my day of trouble I should always find a haven in heraffection.

  They were to be married in the following spring. Mr. Egerton hadpleaded hard for an earlier date; but Milly would not diminish her yearof mourning for her father, and he was fain to submit. The appointedtime was advanced from April to February. He was to take his young wifeabroad, and to show her all those scenes in which his wandering lifehad been spent; and then they were to return to Cumber, and Milly wasto begin her career as the wife of a country squire.

  Julian Stormont came to Thornleigh, and heard of the engagement fromMrs. Darrell. He still occupied his old position in the business atNorth Shields, which had been bought by a great capitalist in the ironway. He received the news of Milly's betrothal very quietly; but heproffered her no congratulations upon the subject. I happened to be onthe terrace alone with him one morning during his stay, waiting forMilly to join me, when he spoke to me about this business.

  'So my cousin is going to throw herself away upon that man?' he said.

  'You must not call it throwing herself away, Mr. Stormont,' I answered;'Mr. Egerton is devoted to your cousin, and the change in hiscircumstances makes him a very good match for her.'

  'The change in his circumstances has not changed the man,' he returnedin an angry tone. 'No good can come of such a marriage.'

  'You have no right to say that, Mr. Stormont.'

  'I have the right given me by conviction. A happy marriage!--no, itwill not be a happy marriage, be sure of that!'

  He said this with a vindictive look that startled me, well as I knewthat he could not feel very kindly towards Milly's lover. The wordsmight mean little, but to me they sounded like a threat.

  CHAPTER XI.

  DANGER.

  The summer that year was a divine one, and we spent the greater part ofour lives out of doors, driving, walking, sitting about the gardensometimes until long after dark. It was weather in which it was a kindof treason against Nature to waste an hour in the house.

  We went very often for long rambles in Cumber Wood, winding up with anafternoon tea-drinking in the little study at the Priory--a home-likeunceremonious entertainment which Milly delighted in. She used to seemto me on those occasions like some happy child playing at beingmistress of the house.

  Augusta Darrell was almost always with us. I was sorely puzzled andperplexed by her conduct at this time. It seemed to be all that a kindstepmother's could be. Her old indifferent air had quite vanished; shewas more cordial, more affectionately interested in Milly's happinessthan I had supposed it possible she could be. The girl was completelymelted by the change in her manner, and responded to this new warmthwith artless confidence in its reality.

  I remembered all I had seen and all I had suspected, and I could notbring myself to believe implicitly in Milly's stepmother. There was ashadowy fear, a vague distrust in my mind, not to be put away.

  As I have said, she was always with us, entering into all our simpleamusements with an appearance of girlish pleasure. Our picnics, oursketching expeditions, our afternoon tea-parties at the Priory, ourcroquet-matches with the Rector's daughters, seemed all alike agreeableto her. I noticed that her toilet was always perfect on theseoccasions, and that she neglected no art which could add to herattractiveness; but she never in any way attempted to absorb Mr.Egerton's attention--she never ignored his position as Milly's acceptedsuitor.

  For a long time I was deceived by her manner--almost convinced that ifshe had ever cared for Angus Egerton in the past, it was a passion thathad died out of her heart. But there came a day when one look of hersbetrayed the real state of the case, and showed me that all thisnewly-awakened regard for Milly, and pleasant participation in herhappiness, had been only a careful piece of acting. It was nothing buta look--one earnest, despairing, passionate look--that told me this,but it was a look that betrayed the secret of a life. From that momentI never again trusted Augusta Darrell.

  With the beginning of autumn the weather changed, and there came a dullrainy season. Trouble came to us with the change of the weather. Therewas a good deal of low fever about Thornleigh, and Milly caught it. Shehad never neglected her visit amongst the poor, even in favour of thosepleasant engagements with Angus Egerton; and there is no doubt she hadtaken the fever from some of the cottagers.

&nbs
p; She was not alarmingly ill, nor was the fever supposed to becontagious, except under certain conditions. Mr. Hale, the Thornleighdoctor, made very light of the business, and assured us that hispatient would be as well as ever in a week's time. But in the meanwhile my dear girl kept her room, and I nursed her, with the assistanceof her devoted little maid.

  Mr. Egerton came every day, generally twice a day, to inquire about theinvalid's progress, and would stay for half an hour, or longer, talkingto Mrs. Darrell or to me. He was very much depressed by this illness,and impatient for his betrothed's recovery. He had been strictlyforbidden to see her, as perfect repose was an essential condition toher well-being.

  The week was nearly over, and Milly had improved considerably. She wasnow able to sit up for an hour or two every day, and the doctorpromised Mr. Egerton that she should be in the drawing-room early inthe following