"Yes, it is my name. I am Bridgie O'Shaughnessy. Don't you remember me?"

"Remember you!" he repeated with an emphasis which was more eloquent than a hundred protestations. He seized her hands in a painful pressure. "You are not married, then? It was not true! You did not marry him as they told me?"

"I? You thought I was married! Oh, what put such an idea into your head?"

"I heard it eighteen months ago--shortly after your last letter arrived, telling me about your father, and hinting at other changes which might follow. My friend wrote that Miss O'Shaughnessy was engaged to a fellow with a lot of money--Hilliard--that they were going to be married almost at once. Was it all an invention? Was there no truth in it at all?"

"It was quite true--quite, but it was Esmeralda, not me! She married him over a year ago."

"Esmeralda! your sister--but he said the eldest daughter, and you are the eldest. I knew I was not mistaken about that, for I remember every word you had told me."

Bridgie smiled faintly; the colour was coming back into her cheeks, and the grey eyes met his with shy, incredulous happiness.

"But most people give her the credit for it, all the same. There's so much more of her, you see. You never wrote to--to ask if it were true?"

"I was too proud and hurt, badly hurt, Bridgie--mortally badly! And you never wrote to ask why I was silent. Were you proud too, or contemptuous--which was it? Did you think I was nothing but a flirt, and a heartless one at that?"

"I never thought unkindly of you, but I suppose I was proud, for I couldn't write when all the money was gone, and I was so poor. I thought you had forgotten, or met someone else! I hoped you were very happy, only I--wasn't!" faltered Bridgie, with a little break in her voice as she spoke that last word, which brought the tears to the Captain's eyes. He bent his head over the clasped hands, and kissed them a dozen times over.

"Bridgie, Bridgie!" he cried brokenly. "Is it true? Have I found you again after all these years? Can you forgive me for this wretched blunder which has brought such unhappiness upon us both? I am thankful to know you were unhappy too, for I had nothing to go on, Bridgie, no claim whatever upon you, only you must have guessed how I felt. I could not believe that you had really given yourself to me in that short time."

"I couldn't myself!" said Bridgie naively. "I tried to pretend that it was all a mistake, and that I was quite happy without you." She looked up at him shyly, and shook her head in the most beguiling denial.

"'Twas not a mite of use. I remember all the same! And are you sure-- quite sure--that you thought of me all the time? Was there never anyone else all these long, long years?"

The Captain smiled and stroked his moustache in amused, contemplative fashion.

"There was never anyone, except one girl! I met one girl who quite stole my heart, and I think I stole hers into the bargain."

"Oh! oh! How dreadful! Why did you tell me? But you didn't--you never thought of marrying her, did you, d.i.c.k?"

"I'm not so sure. She did!" He laughed, and seized her hands once more. "No, it is too bad! I won't tease you. It was Mamzelle Paddy, darling, to whom I confided my story, and who comforted me in her own sweet fashion. And she is your sister, and it is she who has brought us together! Bridgie, if I didn't love you with all my heart, I believe I should still have to marry you, for nothing else than to be Mamzelle's brother."

But Bridgie did not affect to be jealous. She threw back her head, and smiled happily as she answered, "I'm thankful to hear you say it, for whoever marries me must love Pixie too. I can never leave her behind me!"

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

CONCLUSION.

The news of Captain Victor's engagement and long attachment to the charming Miss O'Shaughnessy caused the greatest interest and excitement among the guests at the cottage, while his old friends rejoiced to see the happy brightness on his face.

"Welcome home, d.i.c.k!" Mr Wallace cried, shaking him warmly by the hand. "Thankful to see you back again, instead of that other fellow who has been moping about in your clothes!" and Pixie commented on the announcement with her usual outspoken honesty.

"I told ye it would come all right! I suppose it was you Bridgie was fretting about, when I thought it was the bills! She's got dips in her cheeks, only you can't see them now, because she's blushing. I'm glad you are coming into the family, but I don't see how you can ever be married! She can't be spared!"

The Captain laughed at that statement, and vowed that she would have to be spared, and that at an early date; but a shadow fell across Bridgie's face, and as they sat alone in the garden she said anxiously--

"I am afraid I have been selfish, d.i.c.k! I can think of nothing but you, but, after all, Pixie was quite right--I can't possibly be spared for a long time to come. She won't be old enough to take charge of a house for three years at the soonest, and Jack has been so good and unselfish that I couldn't possibly leave him in the lurch. You have waited so long that you won't mind waiting a few years longer, will you?"

"It doesn't seem to me a particularly logical conclusion, sweetheart!"

the Captain said, smiling. "Personally I feel that I ought to be rewarded at once, but I won't make any promises one way or another until I have met your brother and heard his views. Don't worry yourself, you shan't do anything that you feel to be wrong, but I don't despair of finding a solution of the difficulty. When it is an alternative between that and waiting for you for three years, Bridgie, I shall be very, very resourceful!"

"I don't know what you can do. It's no use suggesting a housekeeper-- the boys would not hear of it, and she'd be destroyed in a week with the life they would lead her!" So argued Bridgie, but she was willing to be convinced, and too happy in the present to feel much concern for the future.

The weight of depression which had lain on her heart despite her brave cheeriness of manner was lifted once and for ever now that she was convinced of d.i.c.k's faithful love, and it seemed impossible that she could ever be more content than at this moment. Until now almost all the joys of her life had come from an unselfish pleasure in the good fortune of others, but this wonderful new happiness was her very own, hers and d.i.c.k's, and she could hardly believe that it was true, and not a wonderful dream.

Mrs Wallace's letter had conveyed an invitation to stay for the night, so the lovers had two days to sit and talk together in the lovely summer garden before returning to give an account of themselves in Rutland Road.

Jack was not prepared to see a stranger accompanying his sister, but he welcomed him with Irish heartiness, and guessed how the land lay at the first glance at Bridgie's face. So did Pat; so did Miles; but they concealed their suspicions with admirable tact, and talked persistently through the evening meal with intent to relieve the embarra.s.sment which was so evidently experienced by the hostess.

Poor Bridgie was painfully conscious of the enormity of her conduct as she looked from one to the other of her three big brothers. Jack's manner was nervous and excited. Poor fellow! he was evidently dreading the explanations which were in store. Pat was looking pale; he grew so fast that he needed constant care. Miles kept handing her the mustard with sympathetic effusion; he had a heart of gold and could be led with a word, but it must be the right word, and woe to the housekeeper of the future if she tried to rule by force! She smiled at him with wistful apology, and Miles patted her hand affectionately under the tablecloth.

It was a pity when a sensible girl like Bridgie made an idiot of herself by falling in love, but they all seemed to do it sooner or later, and there was no use making a fuss, Master Miles told himself resignedly.

She seemed to have met this Captain Victor years ago, and to have corresponded with him in India, but she had never mentioned his name at home. How strange to know that Bridgie had had an interest beyond her own brothers and sisters! Miles felt mildly aggrieved, but consoled himself by the reflection that the Captain seemed a decent sort of fellow with plenty to say for himself. He had been on active service twice already, and though he refused details of manslaughter, gave such a graphic account of tiger-shooting expeditions as made Miles's lips water, and aroused rebellious repinings at his own hard lot in living in a miserable suburb where the only sport to be obtained was the tracking of a few superfluous cats!

When dinner was over, the two boys discreetly lingered behind while their elders retired to the drawing-room, and Bridgie grew rosy red with embarra.s.sment as the door closed behind them.

"We wanted to tell you, Jack--" she began nervously. "I would have told you before, only there was nothing to tell. There isn't now! At least, I mean, it won't be for a long, long time, dear. Not until you don't want me any more."

"Better let me try, Bridgie!" cried the Captain, laughing. He put his hand on her shoulder in a proudly possessive fashion, and looked Jack full in the face. "She is dreadfully afraid of what you will say, and ashamed of herself for daring to think of anything but her home duties.

It doesn't seem to strike her that she has a duty to me too, when I have been thinking of her for the last three years. I must explain to you, O'Shaughnessy, that a friend wrote to tell me that your eldest sister was about to be married to a man called Hilliard, and by an unfortunate coincidence Bridgie herself had vaguely referred to coming changes in her last letter, so I believed the report, and we have mutually been eating our hearts, and believing the other to be faithless. There was no engagement, you must understand, but I made up my mind about her the first day we met, and she now acknowledges that she ran away because she was afraid I might interfere with her home claims. You see, I have already spared her to you for three good years, so I think it is my turn now! My friends will tell you that I have been miserably dull and surly, and for their sakes alone I feel I ought to make a stand."

"And Bridgie has been always sweet and cheerful. We have each expected her to be sorry for us in turns, and never once suspected that she needed us to be sorry for her too. Thank you, Bridgie!" said Jack, looking across at her with a loving look which was the sweetest reward which she could possibly have received for the struggles which had been so gallantly concealed.

"It was my greatest comfort to have you all to work and care for when I thought he had--forgotten!" she cried hastily. "And I have loved helping you, Jack! Please speak honestly, dear, let us all speak out honestly. Of course I want to be with d.i.c.k, but I want most of all to do what is right--we all do--and the children must come first. You can't be left alone, Jack, and there is no one else to take my place."

"Unless--" began Jack slowly. Bridgie looked at him in surprise, and saw the red flush come creeping up from beneath his collar, touch his cheeks, and mount up and up to the roots of his curling hair. "Unless I married myself!" he said breathlessly, and at that Bridgie darted forward and caught him by both hands.

"What? What? What? Jack, what do you mean? Is it Sylvia? Of course it is Sylvia! And does she--Jack, what does it mean? Are you engaged too? Have you been keeping it from me because you thought--"

"We wouldn't let you think you were in our way; we loved you too much, old girl, so we were quietly waiting until--"

"I came along!" concluded d.i.c.k Victor tersely.

The three young people stood staring at each other for a moment, and the tears brimmed over in Bridgie's eyes, but presently she began to laugh, and the young men joined in with a sense of the happiest relief. Each one had been thinking of the other, and putting personal hopes in the background, and lo, in the simplest, most delightful of fashions, the knot was cut, and each was left free to be happy after his heart's desire.

"Oh, it's perfectly, perfectly perfect!" Bridgie cried rapturously.

"The boys adore Sylvia, and will be her devoted slaves; she is twice the housekeeper that I am, and she has been so lonely, poor darling, without her parents. Oh, Jack, how nice of you to care for her, and give her a home!"

"That's what she says!" replied Jack naively. "Shall we send for her to join the council? She ought to have her say. I'll run across--"

"No, no! Send Mary. I want to see her first--I want to see exactly how she looks when she knows she is found out," Bridgie insisted; so Mary was promptly despatched on her errand, and back came Sylvia, wondering and excited, and not a little mystified by the presence of the tall stranger.

"Master Jack has good taste!" said the Captain to himself as he looked at the dainty figure and erect little head with its crop of curls.

"Rather an embarra.s.sing position for the poor girl! Hope they break it to her gently!"

But it was not the O'Shaughnessy custom to break news gently, or in a circuitous fashion, and the moment Sylvia entered the doorway, Bridgie flew at her with outstretched arms, crying incoherently, and with sublime disregard of grammar--