Chapter XVIII: With Friends Again

"Friendship! Mysterious cement of the soul!
Sweet'ner of life, and solder of society,
I owe thee much."
BLAIR.

AGAIN Heather found herself at the Priory, for a farewell visit before she went abroad. It was autumn, and the roses and dahlias brightened the old house with their rich colouring. As she stood on the lawn by Ena's side the first morning after her arrival, she gave a little sigh of happiness.

"It is good to be here," she said, "and I am going to enjoy my time with you to the full, so that I shall look back with pleasure to this visit when I am abroad this coming winter."

"I wish you were not going," said Ena.

"Please don't make me dissatisfied. I have decided that it is right to go, so we will not talk about it."

"That is Regina's tone," said Ena, laughing, for she had heard of Cyril's nickname, and sometimes used it herself.

Heather laughed with her, then said a little wistfully—

"Don't think me headstrong. I have had to decide things myself, and no one else can judge for me. I think I am being taught more and more that I must stand alone."

"Never alone, Heather."

"No," said Heather, colouring, "not in the sense you mean, and that is my greatest comfort."

She changed the subject, and began asking Ena about her friends. Presently Captain Vaughan came up.

"I am off on a fishing expedition, Miss Fotheringay. Won't you bring Ena out this afternoon, and meet me at the pool below St. Margaret's? I shall work down the river that way."

"I should like to very much, if you feel up to it, Ena."

"Yes, I shall manage very well, and we will take the kettle in the bottom of my chair, and have tea down there. It is an exquisite day."

So it was settled, and soon after lunch they started, Dick in high feather at having the "charge of the h'expedition," as he expressed it.

St. Margaret's was a ruined convent beneath a wooded hillside, and in a most exquisite hollow close to the river, which dashed over grey boulders of rock, arched in by overhanging trees. Ferns of the rarest kind grew in profusion along its banks, and Ena's chair was drawn up into a mossy glade, a little way from the rush of the water. There was no sign of Captain Vaughan when they got there, and Heather flitted about, gathering fir cones and dry sticks to kindle the fire, with girlish delight. Jack helped her with his usual dignity, and amused her with his remarks:

"It h'appears too damp a h'atmosphere to h'ignite as it should," he said, watching her unavailing efforts to create the flame.

But Heather persevered, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the flames curl and crackle round the kettle.

"Isn't it delicious here?" she said presently, throwing herself down on the grass by Ena's side. "It makes one feel at peace with all mankind."

Ena was busy with her sketching block. She was a clever artist, and was rapidly filling in the nook in front of her.

"Now, Heather dear, go a little farther away, and I will put you in. There—just so! I will not trouble you long."

"You must give it to me as a memento, only I should like your figure in it, not mine."

Just as the sketch was being finished, Captain Vaughan appeared. He had had a successful day, and turned out his fish with some pride before his sister's eyes. Then, lounging on the grass by her side, he looked at her sketch, and Heather, springing up, busied herself about the tea.

"I have told Ena," she said to Captain Vaughan, "that if I am to keep that sketch I would rather she figured in it than I. Her own position and background is quite a picture, and I long to sketch it myself."

"Don't you sketch at all?" asked Captain Vaughan, a little lazily.

"No; I have no talents—except, perhaps, music. But I got disheartened when I was in town over that. Bluebell and I were brought up in the old-fashioned style, and my harp-playing seemed to most very extraordinary, I know."

"I will try my hand at a sketch," said Captain Vaughan, taking block and pencil out of his sister's possession, in his slow deliberate way.

And by the time tea was served round, he had sketched Ena in her chair, with the background of rocks and overhanging green, with such a true and skilful touch that Heather was delighted.

"It is you exactly, isn't it, Ena? It is for me? Oh, thank you. When I am on the Mediterranean with my old lady I shall often look at it."

A little sigh escaped her, but she changed it into a laugh as she went on—

"Bluebell advises me to keep a diary, and call it 'Views of Riviera Life by one in the Background.' She says if I was very racy in my description of people and things, I could get it printed, and Mudie would take it. I am afraid it would be a strong temptation to present my charge in a ludicrous light. Her very appearance is awe-inspiring. She is a conglomeration of colour and scent, and always wears white kid gloves."

"I want you to have some people to dinner this week, Ena," said Captain Vaughan, rather abruptly.

Heather often fancied her friends and interests bored him, and she was always sorry when she became communicative in his presence.

"Who are they?" asked Ena.

"He is a friend I met in Rome some years ago. He is a dabbler in archaeology and antiquities, and he married a Miss Phillips. Her father is the noted sculptor. They are staying with the Gregorys; of course you must ask them too."

"Very well. How would Friday suit you? Or is it too short notice?"

As brother and sister were discussing the subject, Heather wandered off by herself along the river-side. She had a keen love of all that was beautiful in nature, and this quiet, peaceful spot seemed to soothe and quiet her anxious spirit. For though outwardly brave over her future, she had many qualms and fears about it. She could not forget the conversation at her sister's over the eccentric old lady who was to give her a home, and she viewed her gambling propensity with the greatest horror. Would she be able to stand her ground and refuse to participate in the nightly play? Ought she to acquaint the old lady with her principles, and let her know she could not oblige her on this point? Yet, as nothing had been said to her about it when she was engaged, it might after all be merely exaggerated gossip. Weighing the matter to and fro in her mind, Heather walked on.

She crossed the river by a slender plank, and then climbed up into the fir-woods above, thinking she would catch sight of the others below. But she had miscalculated the distance, and when she turned to retrace her steps, the many winding paths in the wood confused her, and she missed her bearings altogether. For some time she struggled to reach the river, but the dense foliage below prevented her from seeing it, and she at last stopped in despair.

"It is ridiculous to think that I am lost," she said, half laughing, half vexed; "they will wonder where I am. I shall not trust to these paths any longer. If I clamber straight down, I must come to the river, and then I shall find my way."

With this resolve, she started her downward path through brambles and undergrowth, and then suddenly, without a warning, the slippery soil below her feet gave way, and down she rolled, over and over, with increased force and swiftness, till unconsciousness came to her aid, and she knew no more. When she at length opened her eyes, she found herself lying against a fallen tree about twenty feet above the river, which dashed along as merrily as ever. Her head felt bruised and aching, and, when she tried to raise herself, she found her left arm doubled under her, and giving her exquisite pain when she moved it. After several struggles, she succeeded in getting to her feet, and then she found she had cut her forehead in her fall.

With one hand she tried to stop the bleeding and bandage it, but she became so faint that she was obliged to reseat herself on the ground and wait for assistance. She tried to call out, but she was still too dazed with her fall to put much energy into her cries.

It was a happy moment when in the distance she heard the sound of footsteps, and the crackling of the dead twigs underfoot told her that some one was approaching. And when she saw the brown fishing-suit of Captain Vaughan through the trees, she called out for help with fresh vigour.

In another moment he was by her side. "I have been scouring the wood for you," he said cheerily. "Have you lost yourself? Ena has gone on. I persuaded her to go, though she was loth to do it; but it was getting late. Not hurt, are you?"

He was leaning over her now.

And weak and unnerved, Heather was struggling against tears. "I've had a tumble," she said with quivering lip, "and I've hurt my arm. I almost think it must be broken."

"Let me see it. Ah! Don't move. We must put it in a sling till it can be seen to."

Captain Vaughan was not easily nonplussed. He slipped out of his pocket a large silk handkerchief, and in two minutes had made an impromptu sling. Then, as deftly and quietly as a woman, he took her own handkerchief and bound up her forehead.

"Now sit still," he said quietly, "and drink this. And then we will see about getting home."

He produced his flask, and Heather did as she was told, and the colour crept back into her lips and cheeks.

In a short time she was able to walk, though in great pain. Captain Vaughan took good care of her, and though talking cheerily all the time, made her take his arm, and led her as gently as possible along the river bank.

Heather strove to be cheerful, and when they at last reached the Priory, she turned to him with tears in her eyes.

"I can't thank you, Captain Vaughan. You have been so good to me."

"Oh, nonsense," he said, laughing; "it is not much I have been able to do. Come in and lie down. I will send that young scamp Dick for the doctor. Here, Ena, we have a patient on our hands, but I hope it is nothing serious."

It was not serious. She was bruised and shaken by the fall, and had broken a small bone in her arm; but quiet and complete rest for a few days did wonders, and she was almost herself again in ten days' time.

"You are too good to me, Ena," she said to her friend one afternoon, when she insisted upon her resting on the sofa in her morning-room, and brought her some grapes and a book to amuse herself with. "Think how I shall miss all this attention soon."

"The more reason you should have a little of it now," said Ena, playfully. Then she added seriously, "I would give anything to have you here altogether. I have become so dependent on your society, that when you are away I feel inexpressibly lonely."

"But you have your brother."

"He is out a great deal. Oh, I know I ought not to complain, and I am never unhappy, only I think having you about me has made me feel not quite such a hopeless and incurable invalid."

It was seldom Ena touched upon her infirmity. Heather looked wistfully at her.

"If I come back with my old lady next spring, perhaps you would let me come to you for another visit."

"You know how delighted I shall be. Oh, Heather dear, why don't you throw it all up and be my companion instead?"

Heather smiled and shook her head.

"We have argued that out many times. I am afraid I am too proud, for one thing. I must and will be independent of my friends, even of my sister, who is only too anxious I should make my home with her."

"I don't believe we were brought together to be separated so soon," Ena went on, leaning back in her chair and looking out upon the lawn with dreamy eyes.

"We were brought together that you might be the means of bringing me a big blessing," said Heather, stretching out her hand to her friend. "If we drift apart on earth, we shall have eternity together."

"Yes; but I have a strong feeling that we shall not be allowed to drift apart," was the quick response.

"We will hope not. At all events, we can write to each other. I often think how good God has been to me, Ena. Just at the time when I was missing Bluebell so intensely, He sent you into our neighbourhood. It does look as if you were meant to take her place. I don't think I could have borne her being gradually taken away from me if I had not found a friend in you. I feel Bluebell will never be the same to me again now as she was before she married."

"Yes," repeated Ena, smiling, "and I still believe we are meant to live together, and I am waiting God's time for that pleasure to come."

Heather shook her head, and changed the subject.