"You can write to her as often as you please as a brother might write to a sister, and through me, always. Remember that, and wait for events, Le. Be sure of one thing--under no circ.u.mstances will Abel Force ever give his daughter to Angus Anglesea. If he--Anglesea--should ever be able to prove that the ceremony performed in All Faith Church last Tuesday was a lawful one, Odalite's father would at once inst.i.tute legal proceedings to liberate his daughter from that merely nominal and most disreputable marriage. Be sure of that, Le, and be patient. You cannot return before three years, and in three years much may happen--indeed, much must happen!"

"I will try to be patient, Aunt Elfrida. But, oh, what a fate is mine!"

"It is a hard fate, Le; but Odalite shares it. If you must live in suspense, why, so must she. Bear your fate for her sake, Le."

"I will! I will, Aunt Elfrida!" earnestly answered the youth.

"And remember, Le, you are not to breathe to Odalite my doubts as to her freedom from Anglesea's yoke."

"I will not, Aunt Elfrida. I would not make her so unhappy," replied the lover. "I will only tell her," he added, "that you think we had better correspond in the way you suggested, and wait for my return from sea to settle matters; or shall I refer her to you?"

"Do both, Le. Tell her what you propose to tell, and send her to me."

"I will not keep you any longer from your guests, Aunt Elfrida. I thank you very much for your kindness to me, and I shall be guided by your words," said the young man, as he raised the hand of the lady to his lips, and then dropped it with a bow and left the room.

CHAPTER XLII

OTHER INTERVIEWS

He found Odalite waiting for him in the hall. She was dressed for a walk.

"Let us go over to Greenbushes this morning, Le. It is such a fine morning. We can walk through the woods, and rest on the bridge at Chincapin Creek, and then we shall not be too tired when we get to the house," she said in so many words, but all the while she spoke her eyes asked, without words:

"What did mamma say?"

"Happy thought! We will go, dearest. I will be ready in a trice! And we can talk as we go along!" replied Le, with a.s.sumed gayety, as he pulled down his overcoat from its hook and began to put it on.

In two minutes they pa.s.sed out of the front door, crossed the lawn, and entered the wood by the north gate.

"Now, then, what did mamma say?" eagerly demanded Odalite, as they went along the wooded path leading to the creek.

"She says, my darling, that I may write to you all the time I am away, as I would write to my sister, if I had one; but that I must not draw you into any engagement to marry--or words to that effect," replied Le, putting the hard case as gently as he could.

"I thought she would do that," said Odalite, in a sorrowful and subdued tone.

"But, dearest dear! that does not prevent my binding myself to you in the most solemn manner for life and until death, and after death and to all eternity, if one may be permitted to do so. And here I swear, under this blue sky and bright moon and in the presence of high heaven, that I will be true to you, Odalite, dearest Odalite, all the days of my life in this world and in the next, forever and ever! But yet I must not bind you by any promise, darling?"

"You do not need to, Le," she answered, sweetly and solemnly. "You do not need to bind me by a promise. You know my heart, Le. And you know that you can trust me! No word that might not pa.s.s between a brother and a sister will pa.s.s between us, for we shall know each other's hearts, and that shall suffice and satisfy us until we meet again, shall it not?"

"Yes, Odalite! Yes, dearest dear! Until we meet again! And when we meet again, after my long voyage, by all that is holy and sacred in love and in life neither man nor devil shall part us!" warmly exclaimed Leonidas.

"Oh, you mean things!" exclaimed a merry voice behind them.

Leonidas and Odalite turned at once to see two little figures in b.u.t.toned coats and poke bonnets running toward them, followed by the dog.

"Oh, you mean things, you!" continued Wynnette, "to sneak for a walk to Greenbushes, without telling me and Elva a word about it!"

"But Joshua told us--he did, indeed! You forgot to untie him when you started, Odalite, and he set up such a howl of anguish and despair that I had to run out to see what was the matter with him," said Elva.

"And I had to follow, and I found him telling Elf such a tragic tale of how you and Le had gone off and left him tied up, without even looking behind to bid him good-by, that his heart was quite broken, and he had been trying to hang himself on his own chain ever since!" added Wynnette.

"So, you see, I unchained him. But, do you know, he wouldn't go without us? He kept running on a little way and then running back and begging and praying of us to come so hard that at last Wynnette and I went in and put our bonnets and coats and came after you," said Elva.

"Joshua knew you were going to Greenbushes, and he wanted to go with you.

So did we when he told us where you were gone. You don't deserve such devotion; but you have got it anyway," concluded Wynnette.

It seemed rather hard that the children should interrupt the _tete-a-tete_ of lovers who had come out of the house to saunter through the woods on purpose to be alone, and who were so soon to be separated for so long a time; but Leonidas and Odalite took the matter in perfectly good humor, and the four walked on amiably together.

They reached Greenbushes in good time, and had a treat of sweet cider, gingerbread and Indian walnuts from Aunt Molly.

And after a good rest they set out to return to Mondreer, where they arrived in time for dinner.

In the meanwhile Mrs. Force was subjected to another interview. Leonidas and Odalite had scarcely left the house, and Mrs. Force had scarcely settled down to her embroidery, when there came a gentle tap at the door.

"Come in," said Mrs. Force.

Miss Meeke entered, her pretty, pale face slightly flushed, her usually quiet demeanor somewhat disturbed.

"Can I speak to you alone for a few moments, ma'am?" she inquired, rather nervously.

"Certainly, my dear. Take that easy chair," said the lady, in some surprise, as she motioned her visitor to be seated.

Miss Meeke sat down, but continued perfectly silent and extremely ill at ease.

Mrs. Force observed her for some minutes, and seeing no prospect of her speaking, inquired gently:

"What can I do for you, my dear?"

"I--I----" began the governess, taking up the corner of her black, silk ap.r.o.n and beginning to scrutinize it very attentively, while her nervousness increased every instant--"I--do not know--that you can do anything for me, ma'am; but--but--but----"

"Well, my dear?" inquired the lady, kindly, seeing that the governess had paused in her embarra.s.sment.

"I think I ought--that it is my duty to give--to say--to tell----" began the poor girl, falteringly, and then coming to another dead halt.

"Can I help you out in any way? Are you in any difficulty? Have you any complaint to make? Speak, my dear. Do not be afraid," said the lady.

"Oh, no--but--I am going to be married!" suddenly blurted out the girl, as by a heroic effort, and then she flushed crimson over cheeks, neck and brow.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Force, not very much surprised, after all, for she had long seen to what purpose the visits of the little, red-haired and freckle-faced Dr. Ingle tended.

Then, recovering herself, she arose and kissed the young governess tenderly, saying:

"I congratulate you with all my heart, dear. Dr. Ingle is a very worthy young man. Your intended is Dr. Ingle, I suppose?" said the lady, suddenly remembering that the governess had mentioned no name.

"Yes," said Miss Meeke, recovering herself, now that the ice had been broken.