At the end of an hour, Judith returned to the room. Throckmorton was standing alone on the hearth-rug, in a meditative att.i.tude. In his eyes, as they sought Judith's, was a kind of pa.s.sionate, troubled joy; he doubted much, but he did not doubt his love for Jacqueline. He went forward and took Judith's hand, who lifted her eyes, strangely bright, to his face. She was smiling, too, and a faint blush glowed in her cheeks. There were no visible signs of tears.

"I am a happy man," said Throckmorton to her. "Jacqueline has promised to marry me."

His words were few, but Judith understood how much was conveyed in his sparing speech.

"I am happy, too," she returned, pressing his hand. "You deserve to be happy, and you will make--Jacqueline happy."

As she said this, she smiled tremulously. Throckmorton was too much absorbed to notice it.

"I will, so help me Heaven!" he answered.

In all his life before, Throckmorton did not remember ever to have felt the desire of communion about his inner thoughts and feelings. Was it because he himself had changed, or that Judith had that delicate and penetrating sympathy that drew him on to speak of what he had never spoken before? Anyway, he sat down by her, and talked to her a long time--talked of all the doubts and pitfalls that had beset him; his plans that Jacqueline might be happy; his confidence that Judith would be his strongest ally with Mrs. Temple, who was by no means a person to be counted on. She might object to Throckmorton's profession, to his being in what she continued to call the Yankee army, to his twenty-odd years' seniority, to his not being a member of the church; as like as not this was the very rock on which Throckmorton's ship would split.

Judith, with the same heavenly smile, listened to him; she even made a little wholesome fun of him; and when he rose to go, Throckmorton felt, even at that time--and n.o.body could say that he was a laggard in love--that he had gained something else besides Jacqueline, in the sweet friendship of a woman like Judith. He took her little hand, and was about to raise it to his lips with tender respect, when Judith, who had stood as still as a statue, suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand away and gave Throckmorton a look so strange that he fancied her attacked by a sudden prudery that was far from becoming to her or complimentary to him. She slipped past him out of the door, and he heard her light and rapid footfall as she sped up the stairs. As there was n.o.body left to entertain the newly accepted lover, he put on a battered blue cap, for which he had a sneaking affection, and sometimes wore under cover of night, and let himself out of the front door and went home across the snow-covered fields, in an ecstasy.

Meanwhile, Jacqueline, as soon as she had heard the bang of the hall-door after Throckmorton's quick, soldierly step, stole out of her own room into Judith's. In answer to her tap, Judith said, "Come in."

Judith was seated before the old-fashioned dressing-table, her long, rich hair combed out, and was making a pretense of brushing it, but occasionally she would stop and gaze with strange eyes at her own image in the gla.s.s. She rose when Jacqueline entered, and took the girl in her arms as Jacqueline expected.

"Judith," Jacqueline said, "I am to be married to Major Throckmorton. I wonder what Freke will say!"

Judith held her off at arm's length, and looked down at her with eyes full of anger and disdain.

"Don't mention Throckmorton and Freke in the same breath, Jacqueline!

What does Freke's opinion count for--what does Freke himself? It is an insult to Throckmorton to--to--"

"But, Judith," said Jacqueline, "Freke talks better than Major Throckmorton--"

"And plays and sings better. Ah! yes. At the same time, Throckmorton's little finger is worth more than a dozen Frekes."

"But it troubles me about Freke. I know Major Throckmorton can manage mamma--he can do anything with her now; and mamma, of course, will manage papa; but n.o.body can do anything with Freke."

"Jacqueline," said Judith, sitting down and taking Jacqueline in her lap, and changing all at once into the sweetest sisterly persuasion, "no other man on earth must matter to you now but Throckmorton. Let me tell you what a true marriage is. It is to love one man so much that with him is everything--without him is nothing. It is to study what he likes, and to like it too. It is to make his people your people, and his G.o.d your G.o.d. I think one need not know a great deal in order to be worthy of a man--for his love makes one worthy; but one should know a great deal in order that one may be creditable to him in the eyes of the world. Think how Throckmorton's wife should conduct herself; fancy how frightful the contrast, if she should not in some degree be like him! I tell you, Jacqueline, a woman to sustain Throckmorton's name and credit should be no ordinary woman. If you do not love him, if you do not make him proud and happy to say, 'This is my wife,' you deserve the worst fate--"

One of Jacqueline's fits of acuteness was on her. She looked hard at Judith.

"It seems to me, Judith, that you would make a much more fitting wife for him than I."

"Don't say that!" cried Judith, breathlessly. "Never, never say that again!"

Jacqueline, who knew well enough when to stop, suddenly halted. After a little pause, she began again:

"I know it will be dreadfully lonely at Millenbeck. Major Throckmorton loves to read, and I shall be a great interruption to his evenings. I don't know how I shall treat Jack. Don't you think it would be a good idea to get a companion--somebody who knows French?"

"You musn't think of such a thing. Good heavens! a companion, with Throckmorton? You can learn more from him in one week than all the governesses in creation can teach you."

"I didn't say governess," replied Jacqueline, with much dignity. "I said companion."

Then, as Jacqueline leaned her head on Judith's shoulder, Judith talked to her long and tenderly of the duty, the respect, the love she owed Throckmorton. Jacqueline listened attentively enough. When the little lecture was finished, Jacqueline whispered:

"I feel differently about it now. At first, I could only think of Millenbeck and a new piano, and doing just as I liked; but now, I will try--I will really try--not to vex Major Throckmorton."

That was all that could be got out of her.

Judith went with her to her room, and did not leave it until Jacqueline was tucked in her big four-poster, with the ghastly white tester and dimity hangings. Jacqueline kissed her a dozen times before she went away. Judith, too, was loath to leave. As long as she was doing something for Jacqueline, she was doing something for Throckmorton. For was not Jacqueline Throckmorton's now?

CHAPTER X.

Throckmorton, who was modesty and respectfulness itself in the presence of the woman he loved, was far from being nervous or diffident with her family. Next morning, having devoted all his smoking hours, which comprised the meditative part of his life, to Jacqueline, it occurred to him that he would have to tackle Mrs. Temple. That quite exhilarated and amused him. He knew well enough the Temple tradition, by which the master of the house was the nominal ruler, while the mistress was the actual ruler, and he also knew it would not be repeated at Millenbeck.

He was indulgent toward women to the last degree--indulgent of their whims, their foibles, their faults and follies; but it was an indulgence, not a right. Jacqueline would find she had as much liberty as ever her mother had, but it would not be by virtue of a strong will over a weak one, but the free gift of affection. The major was not a person subject to petticoat government. In fact, he did not exactly know what it meant, and the woman did not live who could make him understand it. He rather looked forward to a brush with Mrs. Temple. He knew that Millenbeck and all the worldly advantages of the match would not influence her one iota. The conviction of this, of her entire disinterestedness and integrity, gave him pleasure. He knew that it was he--George Throckmorton--who would be weighed by Mrs. Temple, if not by Jacqueline; this last an afterthought that came to him unpleasantly.

At breakfast, Throckmorton could not but feel a sense of triumph over Jack, who, unconscious of an impending step-mother, sat opposite his father, and talked in the free, frank way to him that Throckmorton had always encouraged. The young rascal would see, thought Throckmorton, with much satisfaction, that it was possible for a man of forty-four, with more gray hairs than black in his head, to hold his own even against a fellow as fascinating as Jack fancied himself to be. As luck would have it, Jack began to talk about the Temples.

"Major, don't you think Mrs. Beverley a very captivating woman? By George! she looks so pretty in that little black bonnet she wears, if it wasn't for interfering with you, sir, I would be tempted to go in and win myself."

The boy's impudence tickled Throckmorton. He could not but laugh in spite of himself at the idea--Jack, whom Judith treated very much as she did Beverley! But Jack evidently thought his father had designs in that quarter, which misapprehension still further amused the major.

"Mrs. Beverley is indeed a charming woman," he answered.

Jack, however, became serious. In his heart he sincerely admired and revered Judith, and his blessing was ready whenever the major informed him that she would be the future mistress of Millenbeck.

"Mrs. Beverley has more sense and sprightliness than any other woman I know. If she could be persuaded to take off those black things she wraps herself up in, and be _herself_--which she isn't--I should think she would be--great fun."

Jack knew Throckmorton well enough to see that the shot had not hit the bull's-eye. Throckmorton was too ready to praise, discuss, and admire Judith. "What does the old fellow want, anyway?" thought Jack to himself, "if Mrs. Beverley doesn't suit him?" So then and there he entered into a disquisition on women in general and Judith Temple in particular, which caused Throckmorton to ask sarcastically:

"May I ask where you acquired your knowledge of the s.e.x?"

"It would be impossible to a.s.sociate with you, major, without learning much about them," answered Jack, "you are such a favorite with the ladies. You are a very handsome man, you know, sir--"

Here Throckmorton smiled.

"For your age, that is--"

The major frowned slightly.

"They all like you--even little Jacqueline."

To save his life, Throckmorton could not prevent a flush from rising to his face, which he hated; for the emotions of forty-four are infinitely ridiculous to twenty-two. But it was just as well to have things settled then. A queer glitter, too, showing understanding, had come into Jack's eyes.

"I may say to you," said Throckmorton, after a little pause, "that you would do well to be guarded in your references to Miss Temple. She has promised to marry me."

They had finished breakfast by that time, and were about to separate for the morning. Jack got up, and Throckmorton noticed his handsome young face paled a little. He had not escaped Jacqueline's spell any more than Throckmorton and Freke; but it was not an overmastering spell, and in his heart he loved his father with a manly affection that he never thought of putting into words, but which was stronger than any other emotion. He walked up to Throckmorton and shook hands with him, laughing, but with a nervousness in his laugh, an abashed look on his face, that told the whole story to Throckmorton's keen eye.

"I congratulate you, sir. She is a--a--beautiful girl--and--and--I hope you will be very happy."