"Anan, sir?" he enquired.

"Go on again, Zeb--this chapter on Salient Angles must be clear and concise as possible. Proceed, Zebedee--we'd got as far as the siege of Aeth, I think." Saying which, the Major closed his eyes again and Sergeant Zebedee, nothing loth, went on:

"'--the most open by bastions, the others, and those of at least ninety degrees, by demi----'"

Once again a small missile flew with unerring aim, struck the Major on the chin and rebounded on to the desk.

The Major started, rubbed his eyes and sat up.

"What now, Zeb?" he enquired. The Sergeant, lowering the ma.n.u.script again, stared harder than ever.

"Sir?" he enquired.

"Something--er--touched me I think Zeb!"

"Touched you, sir! Zounds, here's but you and me, your honour!"

"Strange!" mused the Major, rubbing his chin, "very strange, Zeb, I must ha' dreamed it, though I distinctly felt----" He leaned forward suddenly and picked up from the desk before him a half-opened moss rosebud. With this in his fingers he turned towards the open cas.e.m.e.nt behind the Sergeant's chair and beheld a face, all roguish witchery and laughter, and two white hands held out to him.

"Help me in, John--help me in!" she commanded. In an instant the Major was across the room, had clasped those slender hands and my lady, mounting the low sill, stood a moment framed in the heavy moulding of the long window, a very picture of vigorous young womanhood; then leaping lightly down with flashing vision of dainty feet and ankles, she crossed to where the Sergeant stood, very erect and upright, and setting her two hands upon his broad shoulders, smiled up at him radiant-eyed.

"Sergeant Zebedee," said she, "dear Sergeant Zebedee you must be vastly strong to have carried my brother so far. Stoop down!"

Wondering, the Sergeant obeyed and immediately felt the pressure of two warm, soft lips on his smooth-shaven cheek; whereupon he flushed, blinked and stood at attention. "Did you like it, Sergeant?" she enquired.

"My lady, all I can say is--mam I--I did, your ladyship."

"Then stoop again, Sergeant!" With an apologetic glance towards the Major he obeyed and my lady kissed his other cheek. Then she turned and looked at the Major with glistening eyes. "O!" she cried, "I am come overflowing with grat.i.tude to you all for my dear brother's sake.

I owe you his life--but for you he--he would be----" Her deep bosom swelled and she bowed her head. "Charles is very--very dear to me and--you saved him to me. O pray, John, may I see Mrs. Agatha?"

Here, at a sign from the Major, Sergeant Zebedee strode from the room shutting the door carefully behind him: and as it closed they were in each other's arms.

"Jack!" she murmured. "My n.o.ble John!"

"Nay, beloved," he sighed, "dream not 'twas I. Sergeant Zebedee found him and but for Mrs. Agatha----"

"O my scrupulous man, art afraid lest I do think too well of thee? Art frighted lest I give thee more grat.i.tude than thy just due? Indeed but Charles hath told me all and I do know 'twas these arms bore him 'neath thy roof, 'twas thy brave heart sheltered him and was ready to face ignominy with him. But indeed if you have no--no will to--kiss me----"

The Major kissed her until she sued for mercy. Thereafter, throned in his great chair, she surveyed the bare chamber with gentle eyes: "'Tis a great house, John," she nodded, "and this, a barren corner--and yet, meseemeth, 'tis not so--so outrageously desolate as it was."

"My Betty," he answered, "I do but live for the time when it shall be brightened by thy sweet presence, its floors know the light tread of these dear feet, its walls the music of thy voice and---thy love make it 'home' for me at last."

"'Deed John but you do grow poetical--though perchance thy style might not please Sir Benjamin or Sir Jasper or--O John how I have laughed and laughed----"

Here came a gentle rapping on the door and being bidden enter, Mrs.

Agatha appeared demure and smiling, dropped a curtsey to the Major, another to my lady and then she was caught in gentle embrace and kissed.

"Why Mrs. Agatha!" exclaimed my lady, "dear Mrs. Agatha, how pretty you are! 'Tis seldom wit and beauty go together! Thank you, my dear, for a brother's life. For service so great there are no words--nought to repay. But take this and wear it in memory of a sister's grat.i.tude!"

And speaking, my lady took a necklet from her own white throat and clasped it about Mrs. Agatha's neck. "But for you," she sighed, "but for you I should have lost my only brother and--" my lady faltered, then, meeting Mrs. Agatha's gentle glance, threw up proud head, "and one I love--beyond all!"

"My lady--O my lady!" cried Mrs. Agatha, "Heaven send you happiness now and ever--both!" Then stooping, she kissed my lady's hand and was gone.

My lady crossed the room and seated herself in the Major's great elbow-chair while he, sitting on a corner of the desk gazed down at her with eyes of rapture.

"Well, Major John?"

"How--beautiful you are!" he sighed and she actually blushed and bowed her head.

"O--John!" she whispered.

"Surely many have told you so before?"

"Hosts, of course, dear Major!" she nodded.

"Aye, I fear I'm not very original," he sighed, "I'm awkward, I know, tongue-tied and mute when I would speak; but dear, my love doth 'whelm me so--poor, futile words are lost----"

"'Deed, sir," she answered demurely, "I find no fault with your powers of converse more especially when you grow personal. That remark, now, 'beautiful' was the word I think, being a woman such will never tire me--as you say them."

"Yet I do but echo what others have said before me."

"Aye, but you say it as no other man ever did--you speak it so sincerely and reverently as it had been a prayer, John."

"G.o.d knoweth I'm sincere, Betty."

"So do I, John," and taking the rosebud from the desk she began to open its petals with gentle fingers. So the Major sat gazing at her, wishing that she would lift her eyes and she, knowing this, kept them lowered of course.

"John," said she at last.

"Betty?"

"Sometimes you do seem almost--afraid to--touch me."

"I am."

"And wherefore?"

"Because even now there are times when I scarce can credit my wondrous happiness, scarce believe you can really love--such as I----"

"None the less I shall convince you once and for all--one day, Master Humility!"

And now she lifted her head at last and looked at him, and, thrilling to the revelation of that look, he leaned swiftly down to her, but then she put up gentle hand and stayed him.

"John," she murmured, "dear, when you look at me so you are not a bit humble, I know not if I fear you or--love you most. Stay, John, if my hair should come down and anyone see I--O then quick, John--there's aunt calling! Let us join the company ere we are fetched like truants.

She is out on the terrace with Pancras and Mr. Marchdale who is a trifle trying at times being over-youthful and very soberly adoring.

'Chaste hour, soft hour, O hour when first we met!'" she quoted.

"Indeed," she laughed, "'tis a very worshipful, humble youth so very unlike----"

"Mr. Dalroyd!" said the Major thoughtfully.

My lady started, the rosebud fell from relaxed fingers and she glanced up with a look in her eyes that might have been mistaken for sudden fear.