Not like him, oh, to be accused of that, not like him, when poor little soul she is desperately in love with him. Oh, Mabel! Mabel! why can't you guess? a few words from you would put everything right, and make two people happy, but such is life!

'He has not much to live on,' says Lippa evasively.

'Now, child, you don't think you are going to take me in like that,' and Mrs Seaton becomes quite vehement. 'What do you care about money, or know about it either.'

'I know there are girls who can fall in love,' is the answer. 'I knew one once who told me her idea of bliss was love in a cottage, but that wouldn't suit me at all. I shouldn't know how to get on without heaps of things that I could not have, if I married a poor man.' Lippa's fingers are doing great damage to the ribbons which are attached to her gown, and till they are reduced to a crumpled mess, she continues to take the beauty out of them, by folding and refolding them. Mabel is only half convinced and says no more to Philippa, but a long letter is written to dear George, begging him to come to them soon, and he enjoying himself vastly shooting and fishing does not come, and time pa.s.ses on.

Philippa tries to forget Jimmy, and wonders how he is getting on, she has yet to learn that,--

'Man's love is a thing apart, 'Tis woman's whole existence.'

Love is forgotten and put on one side, for racing, shooting, hunting, etc., and it is well that it is so, for a love-lorn youth is a decided bore.

But James Dalrymple of the Guards has been more deeply wounded than he owns to himself, his love for Miss Seaton is more than a pa.s.sing fancy, that causing pain for a short time, will be laughed over in about a year. Love Lippa, he does hopelessly, madly, and so he will till the end of the chapter.

Real true love is not a thing to be taken up and cast aside at will, like a broken toy; it may grow upon us or come suddenly, why we cannot tell, and although we hardly acknowledge to ourselves that Cupid, who has wrought so much harm as well as good in the world, has paid us a visit, yet we never feel quite the same again; maybe we are happier than we have ever been before, or else, and alas it happens to very many, that Eros' darts have only made a wound which might almost have been caused by a poisoned arrow; ah me! the healing takes a weary long time or maybe can never heal. Truly love is a dangerous thing.

CHAPTER IX

'I say, Mab, there's such a delightful monkey outside, do lend me sixpence?'

Mrs Seaton looks up from a telegram she is reading and says to Philippa, 'Never mind the monkey, I've just had this from George and--'

'Is he ill?' inquires Lippa.

'No, but--'

'Do give me the sixpence then, I will be back in a moment again.'

Mabel produces the coin, and Philippa having delivered it hurries back.

'He was so pleased,' she says, 'the dear little--' but her sister-in-law's face causes her to stop and inquire hastily, 'What has happened, do tell me?' her thoughts recurring at once to Jimmy Dalrymple.

'Well, dear,' says Mabel, 'George has telegraphed to me the death of--'

'Who?' asks Philippa, clutching at a chair near her.

'No one you ever knew,' replies Mabel, guessing the question that she would ask.

'Ah!' and Lippa breathes a sigh of relief, 'is it a friend of George's or Paul's?' 'wife' she is going to say but hesitates.

'No,' replies Mabel, 'it is someone who has been in an asylum for many years,' she pauses wondering how to go on when Philippa spares her the trouble by saying,

'My mother?'

'How did you guess?' says Mabel, surprised.

Lippa heeds her not. 'Somebody I never knew,' she murmurs to herself, 'somebody I never knew, and yet my mother; how strange. Tell me about her,' she adds, 'when, did she go--_mad_?'

'I thought you knew nothing about it,' says Mabel, 'your mother had a shock when you were two years old, which affected her brain, and of course at the time you were too young to understand and it was thought best not to tell you anything, even when you were older; but dearest, who told you of this, George and I were under the impression you knew nothing about it?'

'I overheard you talking about my mother to Lady Dadford. I know it was wrong, Mab, but I could not help it, and I thought that perhaps it would be just as well not to let you know. Was it wrong?'

Mrs Seaton finds it hard to reprove the owner of the face that is lifted to hers, with such a wistful look in the blue eyes. 'I think you ought to have told me,' she says gravely, 'it would have made no difference to anyone, but still it does not matter now; and we shall hear all particulars from George to-morrow; he says he is writing.'

There is a pause. Lippa is gazing out of the window, but her thoughts are very busy. Presently she says, 'Madness generally descends from father to son, doesn't it?'

Mabel, thinking she is alluding to George, says hastily, 'There is no necessity whatever--'

'Ah!' and Lippa clasps her hands together and looks eagerly at Mabel, 'then, then, ... there's no great likelihood of my going mad.'

Mabel looks at her. Is this then what she has been worrying about.

'There is no necessity whatever, the doctors said, insanity is not in your family at all; it was a shock your mother had when she was not very strong, so dear, please do not fancy foolish things like that.'

Lippa smiles. Oh! the joy of feeling that there is no impediment between her and Jimmy; it need never have been then, this time of separation, and yet probably it has been very wholesome for them both. But how to convey to him that she is ready, aye, and more than willing, to link her fate with his; there is nothing for it but to wait and see.

And time goes on, as it always does. Autumn pa.s.ses away, and winter comes with its frost, snow and fogs, while Lippa waits for the day when Jimmy will know all, but just now her time is fully occupied, for the housekeeping has fallen upon her shoulders, as Mabel is up to nothing but hugging a little bundle with a red face, which made its appearance one day.

'Ain't you sorry she's a girl?' Teddy is saying as he is chaperoning his aunt to church on Christmas day, 'because, you know, she's sure not to like games.'

'It will be some time before she can play games,' replies Lippa, laughing; 'but you will have to be very good to her. What do you want her to be called?'

'Lots of names,' says Teddy. 'But look, Auntie; do look, there's Mr Dalrymple. Do you think he's going to our church?'

'I don't know at all,' she replies, trying to look unconcerned. 'We shall be there in a moment, come along; it is rude to stare at people.'

She hurries her nephew up the aisle and into their pew, for fear of coming face to face with Jimmy; she remains a few moments on her knees, and so does not interfere with Teddy, who having hurried through his own private devotions, turns round and watches the stream of people pa.s.sing in through the door. He suddenly nods and beckons, and when Lippa rises she finds that Jimmy is sitting one off her, only Teddy between. It is the first time she has seen him since her mother's death, and she wonders if he will speak when they get out of church, and why he ever came into their pew. But when the service is over, Teddy having sung l.u.s.tily in his shrill voice, nothing awkward takes place.

'A merry Christmas,' he says.

'The same to you,' replies Philippa.

'Are you going to walk home?' he asks.

'No, we are going back in a hansom.'

Here Teddy interrupts with, 'Did you know I've got a sister, you'll come and see her, won't you?'

'I shall be delighted,' replies Dalrymple, looking at Lippa, who has turned her head away. 'May I come?' he asks in a low voice.

But Miss Seaton does not answer, as Lady Dadford suddenly appears, 'Ah!

my _dear_ child,' she exclaims, 'how is the sweet mother and the baby?'

So a long string of questions ensues, and Philippa answers them, feeling that Jimmy is watching her, and suddenly she meets his eye, and there is a look of entreaty in them that makes her smile back; such a dear little tender smile, that it causes Dalrymple to start, while a new life seems to course through his veins.