it is doubtless the law of life to get, more or less quickly, according to one's nature, accustomed to everything. in about six weeks i, who had lived so quietly with aunt penelope, had settled down to my new existence. i was spoken of as lady helen's daughter, and invariably addressed as miss dalrymple. i was dressed according to lady helen's wishes, and i was taken here, there, and everywhere. what i did notice, however, was that although lady helen, my father, and i went to numerous concerts, and although lady helen had her box at the opera, and took a box frequently at the theatres, and although we often dined at the savoy, and the carlton, and the ritz hotels, and on all these occasions my gallant-looking father accompanied us, yet when we went into so-called society he was hardly ever present. i asked lady helen the reason one day. i said to her:
"it is so dull without father. why doesn't he come with us?"
on this occasion she frowned and looked anxious; then she said:
"oh, we shall manage it, probably, by next year; we must not be too eager. people forget very quickly, and we must not expect too much this year, but next year doubtless things will be all right."
"but what can there be to forget?" i said.
"nothing, nothing at all," she replied. "don't be so inquisitive, child."
meanwhile, i will own that i was having a good time—that is, if admiration, expressed and unexpressed, could give it to me. lady helen was proud of me when she saw people flocking round me and when she observed that the nicest men asked me to dance, and the ladies whose houses she was most anxious to get invited to sent me also invitations. she made a fuss over me, and petted me according to her lights. so i was happy in a kind of fashion, although, to tell the truth, there were times over and again when i felt very like a prisoner—a prisoner in a gilt cage.
one day something rather peculiar occurred. i did not think much of it at the time, although i was destined to give it several thoughts later on. lady helen received a letter amongst many others, which she opened shortly after breakfast. father was in the room. he was leaning back in a big chair, and was reading the times. i noticed that father always turned to the army news first in reading any paper; he was looking at the army news at that moment. he was intensely interested about everything to do with the army; and that i could scarcely wonder at, seeing that he himself was a major in his majesty's service.
lady helen opened her letter, turned a little white, and flung it across the table to father.
"there!" she said. "what are we to do now?"
father took up the letter and read it slowly. his face did not look exactly white, but a very peculiar mottled sort of colour spread slowly over his cheeks, and his eyes became fierce and wild. as a rule, he was quick and eager in his movements, but now he rose up deliberately, stamped his foot, and crossing the room, put the letter into a small fire which was burning in the grate.
"gordon, why have you done that?" said lady helen.
"because your brother will not enter this house," was his reply.
"ah, poor fellow!" she exclaimed. "and am i never to see him? i must see him—i will! child, go out of the room."
"no, child, you are to stay here," said my father. he swept his arm round my waist, and drew me down to sit close to him. i could feel that he was trembling all over. lady helen got up.
"heather, i wish you to leave the room."
"darling father, come to me presently to my own room," i whispered. "do, please—what—mother wishes—now."
i brought out the words with an effort.
"you are a plucky girl, my darling," he said, kissing me. "well, then, go—i will come to you by and by."
i was glad to escape. i ran up to my room, and sank down into an easy-chair. morris, who constantly walked out with me in the morning, came in to know if she was to do anything, but i sent her away. i took up a book, i tried to read, i put it down again; i could not fix my attention on anything. oh, never, never before had i seen father's eyes blaze with such fire, and never before had i seen lady helen at once angry and cowed. what were they saying to each other now? until that moment i had not guessed that lady helen had a brother. who was he, and why could not he come? why should father be so angry? why should father have burnt his letter? why did father tremble from head to foot, and try to keep me in the room? ah! i heard his step on the stairs. i ran to my door and flung it open.
"daddy, daddy, come in!" i said.
he strode towards me; in a minute he was in the room, and had clasped me to his heart.
"upon my word, little woman," he said, "upon my word, i have gone through a pretty scene!"
"sit down and rest, daddy darling; don't talk for a minute or two. this is my room, and you are my visitor, and you shall do just as you like."
"smoke a pipe, for instance?" he asked, giving me a quizzical glance.
"indeed you may and shall," i said. i began to poke in his pocket for his pipe, and when i found it filled it for him and lit it, as i used to do when i was a small child; then i gave it to him to smoke.
"you are a dear little thing," he said. "you are the comfort of my life."
his pipe and the peace of my room seemed to soothe him wonderfully, but over and over i heard him mutter, "upon my word!" and then i heard him say, "no, not quite that; i have done a good bit for her ladyship, but that scoundrel—she must know that he can never come here."
"daddy, what is wrong?" i asked.
he took his pipe out of his mouth, gave a profound sigh, and looked me full in the face.
"there's nothing wrong at all," he said. "i was in a bit of a passion—not a temper—a passion—my passion was right and justifiable, but her ladyship's nearly all right now."
"and won't you let her brother come to see her, daddy?"
"stop that, heather; you are not to question me."
"then he is not coming?" i said.
"that man shall never darken my doors."
"daddy!"
"miss curiosity is not to know the reason," he said, smiling once more and pinching my cheek. "now then, look here. her ladyship is in a bit of a tiff—oh, not much; she'll be herself by this evening. you and she are going to a very big affair to-night, and what do you say to our enjoying a very big affair to-day? richmond, eh? in her ladyship's motor, eh? and no questions asked, eh, eh?"
"oh, father, how truly rapturous!"
"well, then, we'll do it. get morris to make you look as smart as possible, and i will order the motor-car to come round. now, then, off with you!"
i flew to get ready, and father and i had a very happy day together. as we were coming back in the motor-car, just in time for me to get dressed for that great function which he would not attend, i said to him:
"daddy, i thought that when people were a long time in the army——"
"eh, eh?" he said. "what about the army?"
"i thought that they got promotion—i mean you ought to be a full colonel, or even a general, by now."
"little heather, will you promise with all your heart and soul never to repeat something i am going to say to you?"
"of course, i will promise you, my own daddy."
"well, i am not in the army—i haven't been in the army for years."
"daddy!"
"now listen, and keep that knowledge deep down in your heart. but for that scoundrel who wanted to pay us a visit i'd have been a general in his majesty's service now. no more words, heather; no more words—keep it dark, dark in your heart. i am called major by her ladyship as a matter of courtesy, but i was snuffed out some time ago, child; yes, snuffed out. now then, here we are! we've had a good day—very jolly to be alone with my little heather—life's not half bad when you consider that your own child need not understand every black and evil thing about you. but i am snuffed out for all that, little heather mine."
