As We Sweep Through The Deep

  CHAPTER III.

  AN INTERRUPTED PROPOSAL.

  "None without hope e'er loved the brightest fair, But love can hope when reason would despair."

  Perhaps never was youthful maiden less prepared to listen to theaddresses of a would-be wooer than was Gerty Keane when she entered thetartan boudoir that evening at Grantley Hall. She was little more than achild even now, only lately turned seventeen; and before Jack went awayto sea--now two years and a month ago--I believe that most of thelove-making between them had been conducted through the media ofbon-bons and an occasional wild flower, though it ended with farewelltears, a lock of bonnie hair, and a miniature, both of which Jack hadtaken away with him, and, like a true lover, worn next his heart eversince the parting.

  Gerty's cheeks were flushed to-night, her eyes shone, her very lips wererosier than usual.

  Sir Digby Auld sprang up as nimbly as his figure would permit, andadvanced to meet the girl with outstretched hands. The baronet wasverging on forty, but dressed in the height of youthful fashion; he wasa trifle pompous, and he was likewise a trifle podgy.

  As a shopkeeper or clerk there would have been nothing very attractiveabout Digby, but as a baronet he was somewhat of a success. There wasnothing, however, in his fair, soft, round face or washed-out blue eyescalculated to influence the tender passion in one of the opposite sex;only he was excessively good-natured, and it is very nice of a baronetto be excessively good-natured and condescending, especially wheneverybody knows he may become a lord as soon as another noble lordchooses to die. Everybody knew also of Sir Digby's passion for GertyKeane, and for this very reason used to say sneering and ill-naturedthings behind the baronet's back; for people were not a whit better inthose "good old times" than they are now.

  Whenever Sir Digby sailed into a drawing-room that happened to possess asprinkling of marriageable girls of various ages, from sixteen to--saysixty, he sailed into an ocean of smiles; but if Gerty were there, heappeared to notice no one else in the room. Whenever Sir Digby sailedout again, their tongues began to wag, both male and female tongues, butparticularly the latter.

  But on the particular evening when Sir Digby Auld solicited an interviewwith Gerty, he had dressed with more than his usual care, and wore hissoftest, oiliest smile.

  "O Gerty," he cried, "I'm _de_lighted beyond measure! How beautiful youlook to-night! No star in all the firmament half so radiant as youreyes; no rose that ever bloomed could rival the blush on your cheek!"

  Sir Digby had practised this little speech for half-an-hour in front ofthe glass while waiting for Gerty.

  The girl didn't seem to hear him; or if she did, she did not heed. Heled her passive to a seat, and drew his own chair nearer to hers thanever he had sat before.

  There was a sad kind of expression in Gerty's face, and a far-away lookin her bonnie blue eyes.

  If Mary, her maid, had only held her silly tongue, Gerty might have beenalmost happy now. But Mary hadn't held her tongue, but conjured upJack, and he was before her mental eyes at this very moment just as shehad seen him last, the young and handsome lieutenant, going away tofight for king and country with a heart burning with courage and valour,yet filled with love for her--and with hope. Ah yes! that was the worstof it. They were not betrothed, and yet--and yet when he returned andfound her engaged to another, it would break his heart. Yes, that wassimply what it would do. What was Sir Digby saying? Oh, he had beentalking for ten minutes and more, yet not one word had she heard. Norhad she even turned towards him. She did so at last, blushing andembarrassed at what she deemed the rudeness of her inattention.

  Digby misinterpreted her.

  "Yes, yes," he cried rapturously; "I read my happy fate in those deardowncast eyes and in that tell-tale blush. You love me, Gerty; you loveme, all unworthy as I am. Then behold I throw myself at your feet."

  Sir Digby was preparing to suit the action to his words; but this wasnot so easy to do as might be imagined, for this gay Lothario hadlately suffered from a slight rheumatic stiffness of the joints. He hadalready bent one knee painfully, and it had emitted a disagreeable crackwhich certainly tended to dispel a portion of the romance from thesituation, when sturdy footsteps were heard outside, and next moment theround, rosy face of Richards, of the firm of Griffin, Keane, and Co.,appeared smiling in the doorway.

  Gerty sprang up, leaving her lover to recover the perpendicular as besthe might. She rushed towards the old man and fairly hugged him.

  "Confound it all!" muttered Sir Digby.

  "I'm afraid," said Richards, "I've interrupted--"

  "Oh, don't mention it, dear, dear Mr. Richards. What Sir Digby was aboutto tell me wasn't of the slightest consequence. That is, you know, Imean--it will keep."

  Sir Digby Auld bit his lip.

  Richards nodded to him.

  "I've such news for you, Gerty dear. A long, long letter from Bermuda.Jack's ship--"

  "Oh, do sit down and tell me all.--Sir Digby, you will forgive us, won'tyou? You're so good! Sit near us and hear it all.--Yes, Mr. Richards;I'm listening."

  That she was. What a glad look in her face! what a happy smile! Withlips half parted and eyes which shone with an interest intense, shenever took her gaze from Mr. Richards' beaming countenance till he hadfinished speaking.

  The letter was from a friend of his, and told of the arrival at Bermudaof Jack's ship, and all Jack's doings on shore; and how the _OceanPride_ was ordered home; and how, if things turned out well, and shewasn't captured by a Frenchman five times her size, she might beexpected back in a fortnight.

  "O dear, dear Mr. Richards, I'm so happy; I mean, you know, that Florawill--"

  "Yes, yes; Flora, of course, you sly little puss. There! never blush; Iguess I know your secret--Jack, eh?--Ah, Sir Digby, you and I are tooold to understand the tender passion, aren't we?"

  "Yes--that is, no. You better speak for yourself, sir. I--I--I believe Ihave an appointment--I--Good evening, Miss Keane."

  Sir Digby Auld's exit was not an impressive one.

  With an amused look on his face, Richards watched him till the closeddoor shut out the view; then he stretched out his sturdy legs, threwhimself back in his chair, and laughed until the rafters rang.