'But, father, surely a good character is everything. How often I have heard you say what a high opinion his Dean had of him, and what an excellent character he had borne at school and college; and then think what a son and a brother he is--how unselfish, how hard-working! How could any girl be afraid of entrusting her future to him?'

Dr. Ross sighed. Audrey's mind was evidently made up. Why had he brought this misfortune on them all by engaging this fascinating young master--for he certainly looked upon it as a misfortune. After all, was it any wonder that Cyril Blake, with his perfect face and lovable disposition, had found his way to his daughter's heart? 'Why could he not have fallen in love with someone else?' he groaned to himself; for Audrey was the very apple of his eye, and there was no one he thought good enough for her, unless it were Michael. Not that such an idea ever really occurred to him. Michael's ill-health put such a thing out of the question; but Michael was his adopted son, and far above the average of men, in his opinion.

'Father, you will remember that my happiness is involved in this,'

Audrey said, after a little more talk had pa.s.sed between them. 'You will be good to Cyril when he speaks to you to-morrow.'

'Oh yes; I will be good to him.'

And then Audrey laid her hot cheek against him, and thanked him as she bid him good-night; but when she had gone there were no debates read that night--Dr. Ross had too many thoughts to occupy him as he sat alone in his empty study.

CHAPTER XXIV

'I FELT SUCH A CULPRIT, YOU SEE'

'Still, it seems to me that love--true and profound love--should be a source of light and calm, a religion and a revelation, in which there is no place left for the lower victories of vanity.'--AMIEL.

It cannot be denied that Cyril Blake had rather a hard time of it in the Doctor's study. Dr. Ross received him kindly; but his kindness was a trifle iced as he shook hands with the young man, and then seated himself in his big easy-chair. He groaned inwardly: 'I am an old fool,'

he thought, 'ever to have brought him here. How confoundedly handsome the fellow is! if one could only honestly dislike him!' and then he a.s.sumed a judicial aspect as he listened to the culprit.

On the whole, Cyril acquitted himself fairly; he was very pale, and hesitated a little over his words; but he stated his case with sufficient eloquence. His love for Audrey bore him triumphantly even through this ordeal.

'You have reason to be angry with me,' he said with ingenuous frankness.

'I had no right to speak to Miss Ross until I had gained your permission to do so.'

'It was certainly a grievous mistake, Mr. Blake.'

'You are very kind not to call it by another name; I will own frankly it was a mistake. I must beg you to make allowances for a very strong temptation. Under some circ.u.mstances a man is not always master of himself.'

Dr. Ross half smiled. After all, this braw wooer was bearing himself with manly dignity.

'I hope you will believe me,' continued Cyril earnestly, 'when I say that I acted with no preconceived intention. My first declaration was perfectly hopeless. I expected nothing, asked for nothing; on the second occasion'--here he paused, and, in spite of his nervousness, a light came in his eyes--'circ.u.mstances forced me to speak.'

'Circ.u.mstances can be controlled, Mr. Blake. If you had come to me, for example----'

'It had been my intention to come to you, Dr. Ross, and to tender my resignation. I had made up my mind that it was my duty to leave this place. I had even spoken to my mother on the subject. "I love your daughter, and therefore it will not be right for me to stay." These were the very words I should have spoken to you, only--she--she--asked me not to go;' and here the young man's voice trembled.

Dr. Ross's magisterial aspect relaxed a little; his good heart, yearning only for his child's happiness, began to relent.

'I am quite sure of your affection for Audrey, Mr. Blake.'

'You may be sure of it. There is no proof you could ask that would be refused by me. If I thought--that is, if you and she thought that this would not be for her happiness, I should be ready, even now, to go away.'

'Thank you! I can quite believe that you mean what you say; but I shall not put you to so severe a proof. My child told me last night that her mind was made up--indeed, I understand that you and she are already engaged.'

'Only with your permission, sir.'

'I do not see how I am to withhold it when the girl tells me that her happiness is involved. I will speak to you plainly, Mr. Blake. You are certainly not in the position in which I should wish to see my future son-in-law. A man of your age, at the very beginning of his career, has no right to think of marrying.'

Cyril flushed.

'I do not think of it. I must work my way before such a thing would be possible.'

'You mean because you are poor. Poverty is, of course, a serious obstacle; but just then I was thinking more of position. I should hardly be willing for my daughter to marry a junior cla.s.sical master. Her sister is in a far better position.'

'I shall hope not always to be a junior master, Dr. Ross.'

'True; and, of course, interest can do a great deal. I must speak to Charrington, and see what is to be done in the future. Perhaps you know that Audrey has a little money of her own?'

'I am sorry to hear it.'

'Their grandfather left them each five thousand pounds--as Audrey is of age, she is, of course, her own mistress. It was my intention to give her a couple of thousands on her marriage--Geraldine had it--anything else will only come to them on my death.'

'I wish you had not told me all this.'

Dr. Ross smiled.

'You are young, Blake,' he said, in his old friendly manner, 'or you would not be so romantic as to wish Audrey were penniless. You will find a few thousands very serviceable by and by, when, in the course of time, a house falls vacant. I am speaking of the future, mind--for I do not mean you to have Audrey for at least a couple of years; we are in no hurry to lose her, and you must make your way a little first. Now I think we have talked enough for the present. I will just have a word with Audrey, and send her to you.' Then he held out his hand, and Cyril grasped it with a word or two of grat.i.tude.

Meanwhile Audrey, seated close to her mother on the drawing-room couch, was pouring out the whole story. She told it very comfortably, with her face resting against her mother's shoulder, and only interrupted by a tearful inquiry at intervals.

'Oh, Audrey! Oh, my darling child!' exclaimed Mrs. Ross, in a sighing sort of voice, when the girl had finished her recital.

'Are you sorry, mother? Why do you speak in that tone? You know you have always liked Cyril.'

'Yes, my dear,' but here Mrs. Ross sighed again; 'how can one help liking him, when he is so lovable? But, Audrey, what will your sister say--and Percival?'

'Poor dear mother! So that was the reason of that dolorous voice? Well, do you know,' with an engaging air of frankness, 'I am afraid we shall have a bad time with Gage; she will want me put in a strait-waistcoat and fed on a cooling diet of bread and water. Father will have to a.s.sure her that there is no insanity in the family; and as to Percival--oh, Percival's face, when he hears the news, will be a joke!'

'I must say I don't see the joke, Audrey. I am really afraid they will both be dreadfully shocked. You must tell them yourself. I would not take the news to Hillside for the world--and just now, too, when dear Geraldine ought to be spared all agitation.'

Audrey did not dare laugh; her mother was far too much in earnest.

'You must go yourself, Audrey,' she repeated; 'and I hope you will be very, very careful.'

'Don't you think it would be better to write, mother? I am so sure that Gage will disapprove and say cutting things--and of course it will not be pleasant. If I were to write her a sisterly little note, just telling her the news, and saying I would go to her to-morrow?'

And, after a good deal of consideration, Mrs. Ross was brought to own that this plan would be the best.

Mrs. Ross was so oppressed by the fear of Geraldine's disapproval that she could hardly give her attention to Audrey; and yet her motherly heart was stirred to its foundations. Audrey pretended to be hurt at last.

'Oh, do not let us talk any more about Gage!' she said impatiently; 'we must give her time to come round. I want you to think about me and Cyril. "Cyril"--is it not a nice name? And you must be very fond of him, and treat him like your own son. He is to be a second Michael.'

'Dear me, Audrey! I wonder what Michael will say; he can never have guessed anything before he went away.'

'I don't know, mother. Michael is very sharp, you know. It struck me once or twice that he was watching Cyril; but he liked him--he always liked him;' and here Audrey's voice was full of gladness. Michael's approval was necessary to her happiness: whoever else might choose to cavil at her choice, it must not be Michael--dear old Michael!