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The room was shadowy, but she could see the man leaning forward with an arm upon the table and the girl's intent face. There was something that pleased her in the scene. Then as she moved forward Millicent looked up quickly and Blake rose. "So you have come back," said Mrs. Keith, giving him her hand. "How was it you didn't go straight to Sandymere, where your uncle is eagerly waiting you?"
Though his wife had brought him money, Sandymere had long been the property of the Challoners, and the old house had a picturesque stateliness, while every field and farmstead had been well cared for. In process of time it would all be his son's, and, in that sense, Bertram had more than an individual importance.
Keith left him with Millicent when tea was brought in. That night Blake sat with Challoner in the library at Sandymere. The Colonel was in a big leather chair near a good fire, but he had a heavy rug wrapped about him, and it struck Blake that he looked ill. He turned and regarded Blake affectionately.
"Dick," he said one day, when Blake thought he was too ill to perceive that he was casting a reflection on his son, "I wish my personal means were larger, so that I could give Bertram enough and leave Sandymere to you; then I'd know the place would be in good hands. On the surface, you're a happy-go-lucky fellow; but that's deceptive.
The girl's face shone with a happiness which she could not conceal: she knew that Blake loved her; and she knew, too, that she loved Blake; but she was not ready to admit this to Mrs. Keith. Dinner was finished at Sandymere, Miss Challoner had gone out, and, in accordance with ancient custom, the cloth had been removed from the great mahogany table.
"I thought you had come home for good." There was rueful humour but no bitterness in Blake's smile. "Oh! no; though I'm very fond of it, Sandymere is not my home. It will be Bertram's by and by and he is married. I'm the poor relation and no great credit to the family." Millicent's colour deepened, but she looked at him steadily. "I think that is wrong.
The face of the old house rose above him, dark against the clear night sky; in front the great oaks in the park rolled back in shadowy masses. Blake, who loved Sandymere, had thought of it often in his wanderings, and now he was glad that through his action his cousin would enjoy it without reproach. After all, it was some return to make for the favours he had received.
The room was shadowy, but Mrs. Keith could see the man leaning forward with an arm on the table and the girl listening with intent face. There was something that pleased her in the scene. As Mrs. Keith moved forward, Millicent looked up quickly and Blake rose. "So you have come back!" Mrs. Keith said. "How was it you didn't go straight to Sandymere, where your uncle is eagerly awaiting you?"
One of his friends had even gone farther and hinted that Bertram should never have been a soldier; but Challoner could not agree with that conclusion. His lips set sternly as he went out in search of Greythorpe. A good fire burned on the hearth in the library at Sandymere, although the mild air of an early spring morning floated in through the open window.
Blanche thought it cost her husband an effort to fall in with his cousin's casual mood. Blake, however, seemed quite at ease, and she was growing interested in him. He reminded her of the Challoner portraits in the dark oak gallery at Sandymere, but she thought him lighter, more brilliant, and, in a sense, more human than those stern soldiers.
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