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He could only wait for some word from his new ally, Vittoria Fabrizi. It might be that she would find a clue, and he feared to complicate matters by any premature or ill-judged action. Meanwhile, he encountered the results of Bernie Dreux's garrulity. He found himself generally regarded as Myra Nell's accepted suitor, and, of course, could make no denial.
The key of this chamber happened by good fortune to be on that side of the door which was in Nell's room; she turned it on him when the landlady had withdrawn, and crept to bed again with a thankful heart.
The young missionary came out of the open door, and the two young men greeted each other warmly. "How is she?" asked Christy, when the first greetings had been exchanged. "Nell's just beginning to get over the shock. She'll be glad to see you." "Jonathan tells me you got married just before Girty came up with you at Beautiful Spring." "Yes; it is true.
Jane took all the hard top blows to do herself and left the unloosening of the lower nails to Aunt Augusta while Nell ripped off the planks that stuck. I could almost hear Nell's long, polished finger nails go with a rip every time she jerked a particularly tough old plank into subjection, and Aunt Augusta dispensed encouraging axioms about pioneer work as she banged along behind Jane.
He saw Nell's eyes in the stars, in the velvet blue of sky, in the blackness of the engulfing shadows. She was with him, a slender shape, a spirit, keeping step with him, and memory was strong, sweet, beating, beautiful. Far down in the west, faintly golden with light of the sinking moon, he saw a cloud that resembled her face. A cloud on the desert horizon! He gazed and gazed.
From Dromore's face the chaffing look went, like a candle-flame blown out; and a coppery flush spread over it. For some seconds he did not speak, then, jerking his head towards the picture, he muttered gruffly: "Never had the chance of marrying, there; Nell's 'outside." A sort of anger leaped in Lennan; why should Dromore speak that word as if he were ashamed of his own daughter?
"Indeed I did." "Well, then, see," and he pointed to the stain on Nell's dress. "We need a little warm water and soft bandages, or something that will do for the present." "My lands! did that brute do that?" Mrs. Jukes exclaimed. "It's no wonder you rolled him in the dust. Just come inside and I'll get what you want in a jiffy."
Totty took up the wail; and the little four-year-old girl on Nell's lap promptly followed suit. "What shall we do?" Nell asked, imploringly. But at that moment Sarah appeared. She took Tommy up in her strong, motherly arms, soothing him in practised fashion. "There, there, honey! Yo's goin' have yo' mother pretty soon. What yo' wants now's yo' supper, ain't it, honey?
"Why, how did you learn about that?" she enquired. "Who told you?" "No one. I am an amateur Sherlock Holmes, and have drawn my own conclusions from what I have seen and surmised. Jean is jealous of you, and 'that way madness lies. Am I not right?" "You certainly are," and a tremour shook Nell's body as she recalled the incident of the previous evening. "Oh, it was terrible!
Nicholas Nickleby goes walking across England because he is young and hopeful; Little Nell's grandfather does the same thing because he is old and silly. But they all have this in common, that they may actually all have trodden in each other's footprints. They were all wanderers on the face of the same fair English land.
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