shall have nothing but good news to send topoor old Duke by this mail. And don't you think I am looking better? Ifeel quite different."
"Yes, dear, I think the bracing air up there must have done you good,"Mrs Raynsworth replied, more brightly than she had yet spoken.
"It is only poor, dear Phil who is looking pale," Evelyn went on,leaning forward to kiss her sister as she spoke. They were close totheir own gate by this time. "Mother, dearest," she added, coaxingly,"I _can't_ tell you all she has been to me, nor how _beautifully_ shemanaged everything. You--you and father aren't angry with her? It wasall out of devotion, and after all, my allowing it puts quite half theblame on to me. For that morning, when she came into the railwaycarriage, I was feeling so ill and weak and frightened. I was, in spiteof all, so _thankful_ to see her, that at the bottom of my heart I couldnot send her away. Mamma, dear, _don't_ be vexed with her."
The tears were coursing each other down Philippa's pale cheeks by thistime--some were trembling too on Evelyn's pretty eyelashes. MrsRaynsworth was already softened. The sight of the two, the one sobright and invigorated, the other so timid and evidently apprehensive ofwhat was in store for her, had already done its work.
"My poor, dear child," she said, gently, as she held out her hand to heryounger daughter; and Philippa felt herself forgiven. "I can onlyhope," she said, "earnestly hope that no harm will ever come of it. Iam quite sure I need not warn you never to do such a thing again."
Philippa shook her head; she could not speak.
"We need never allude to it," Mrs Raynsworth added. "Only Dorcasknows, and she will take care that no one ever hears of it. I cannotimagine,"--for after all it was impossible not to feel some curiosity asto how the extraordinary little drama had been carried out--"I cannotimagine how you managed it. But I daresay we had better try to forgetabout it and never mention it again. Your father--"
"Oh! there he is," exclaimed Evelyn, "coming down the drive to meet us.And, yes, he has got Bonny with him. How sweet of him! Phil, do lookat them--"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
CHARLEY'S PLAN.
But as for "never mentioning it again?"
Before Philippa fell asleep that night, her mother was in possession ofevery detail of all that had happened since they parted. More, for moreof coarse than Evelyn knew, or ever would know. The younger sister wasnot one to do things by halves, and when she gave her confidence it wascompletely given. She had confided in her mother all her life, and thelonging to do so now, even at the risk of causing Mrs Raynsworthincreased pain and mortification, was irresistible.
And it was far better so.
The fact which, naturally, was the most difficult for the mother to bearwith equanimity was that of the necessity which Philippa had feltherself under of appealing to Michael Gresham.
"I could not have done it myself," she said; "it came on, you see,mamma, through his knowing the housekeeper so well. Though what wouldhave happened if he had _not_ been told, I really do not like to think."
"He suspected something, then, you think?" said Mrs Raynsworth,uneasily.
"Suspected," Philippa exclaimed. "I beg your pardon, mamma, forrepeating your words. Far more than that, he _knew_ there was somethingnot straightforward about us. And the worst of it was that he thoughtpoor Evey so double and insincere. Oh, mamma, I _was_ mad to do it."
Self-blame disarms any kindly judge. Mrs Raynsworth could say nothingmore to add to her daughter's keen regret. On the contrary, she gentlystroked her hand. They were sitting by themselves in Philippa's ownroom after Evelyn had gone to bed.
"We can only hope," she said again, "and, I think we _may_ do so, thatno harm will ever come of it. I am very grateful, truly grateful, tothat good Mrs Shepton, and I should like her to know it."
"I can write to her," said Philippa, eagerly. "I should like her to seethat I have told you everything, and I can say it all without--withoutmentioning names, or anything that would matter if by any accident theletter were seen. Oh, yes, as far as the housekeeper is concerned, Ihave no misgiving or sore feeling. It is that--that Mr Gresham I havesuch a horror of ever meeting again."
"The one that Evelyn liked so much--who has asked you both--Evelyn andDuke at least," (Mrs Raynsworth interrupted herself hastily, recallingcertain injunctions in the confidences her elder daughter had alreadyfound time to give her as to the "impression" Philippa had made onBernard Gresham at Dorriford), "I should say, to stay with him at hisplace, the place with the queer name?"
"No, I don't mean _Mr_ Gresham," the girl replied; "but, mamma, youneed not hesitate. I know he spoke of me to Evelyn and said somethingabout her bringing me--me in my proper character, of course," with asomewhat rueful smile. "And, if it had not been for all this, I daresayI should have liked to go. Evelyn says he is charming. But it is not_he_ I am afraid of meeting again; he suspects nothing; as I told you,mamma, by some lucky chance he never caught sight of me once atWyverston, and at the end, you know, when there was that risk of histravelling with us, I strongly suspect his cousin put a stop to it onpurpose."
"That was kind of him," said her mother. "It shows you can trust him."
"Oh, yes, he is a gentleman, of course, and Mrs Shepton says he is verykind-hearted and everything good. But, oh, mamma, I have a perfecthorror of ever seeing him again; I felt so--so _degraded_, when I had,as it were, to throw myself on his mercy. You cannot think what it feltlike," and she shivered slightly.
Mrs Raynsworth did not at once answer. She seemed to be thinkingdeeply. Then she said:
"Philippa, my child, it will not do any good, or undo what cannot beundone, for you to allow yourself to grow morbid about it. Put it outof your mind as far as it is possible for you; you owe it to us all todo so, now that there is nothing more to explain, and that all isforgiven. Promise me that you will try to do this." Philippa sigheddeeply.
"Yes, mamma, I will try. I know it is the least I can do when you--papaand you--are so very, very good to me," her voice trembled a little. "Iwill try. But do promise me, dear mamma, that if the question comes upof my going to Merle-in-the-Wold with Evelyn and Duke--they are sure togo some time or other--you will help me to get out of it? _That_ is notmorbid."
No, under the circumstances, Mrs Raynsworth could scarcely call it so,as nothing was more probable, almost certain, than that Michael Greshamwould be one of the party at his cousin's. Under the circumstances,however, she much doubted if Evelyn's zeal for a visit to Merle wouldhold good, though this opinion she kept to herself.
"I will promise never to urge you to do anything as painful to you asthis idea seems at present," Mrs Raynsworth replied. "And perhaps,"with a little sigh--for unworldly though the mother was, it couldscarcely be that Evelyn's glowing description of the master of Merle,and the evident "admiration at first sight" which her sister had arousedin him, had made no impression on the maternal imagination--"perhapsyour instinctive dread of meeting the younger Gresham again is wellfounded."
"I am sure of it," said Philippa, in a tone of relief. "And, oh, mamma,there is one thing we--I--should be glad of, and that is that Charleydid not come here while we were away. Of course," (as had been thecase) "his last letter--the last before we left--showed it was unlikely;but everything unlikely seems to have happened to me! And I could notbear him to know what I did--he would be furious."
"Yes," Mrs Raynsworth agreed, "I am afraid he would be. And I see noreason why he should ever hear of it. We took care not to let Hugh; andLeonard know where you had gone. I just told them that you had goneaway again unexpectedly for a few days. I believe they had some vagueidea that you had been summoned back to Dorriford."
And after that first evening, though with no definite _parti pris_ onthe subject, Philippa's eccentric escapade was practically buried.
Circumstances greatly helped to bring this about. For the very nextmorning came the looked-for news of Charley's definite return--a return"for good," as his people had got into the way of calling it. He was
tostay at home, indefinitely at least, working at the special branch ofliterature which he had made his own, and in which his father's adviceand experience were of great value to him, and acting at the same timeas Mr Raynsworth's secretary, thus relieving his younger sister fromthe somewhat onerous duties of the last year or two.
"Tell poor old Phil," he wrote, "that she is to have a regularright-down good holiday at last, to be idle and frivolous, and taken upabout her clothes like other girls. She's not had fun enough in herlife, and it's time she had some now. With Evey being at home, surelywe can plan something