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<h3> CHAPTER XIII </h3> <h3> 'When We Two Met!' </h3> Betty was so absorbed in the music that she forgot all about the major. 'When I grow up, do you think I shall be able to play and sing like you do?' she asked, with a little sigh of happiness. 'I dare say you may, dear.' 'But shall I have an organ to play? In London you can't go into any church and play, can you?' 'No; it is only because I know the clergyman here that he gives me permission.' 'And why do you never come to church here on Sunday?' 'Because we have a little church nearer us; but it has not an organ, and so I come over here.' 'Do you know what I do when you're singing? I shut my eyes and pretend I'm in heaven. It's lovely! If you shut yours you could pretend too, and I wish you could go on singing for ever and ever!' Nesta laughed, and kissed the little eager, up-turned face. 'I should get very tired and hungry, I'm afraid. I am not an angel, Betty; but you're right, darling. I, too, get very near to heaven when I'm singing;' and she added musingly,— In heart and mind ascending, My spirit follows Thee.' When, a little later, Nesta came out of the church with Betty, the tall figure of Major St. Clair came forward to meet them. 'Good-afternoon, Miss Fairfax.' His tone was cold and grave; but Nesta started, and turned white to her very lips; then with an effort she recovered her composure, and held out her hand. 'It is a long time since we have met,' she said. There was a pause, but Betty came to the rescue with the delightful unconsciousness of childhood. 'Do you know my Miss Fairfax?' she asked the major. 'You never told me you did. Didn't she sing beautifully? Did you like "Tribulation"? We like it the best of all her songs, don't we, Prince?' She stooped to caress her little dog; then, as he broke away from her, she darted after him. Major St. Clair stood still, and his eyes never moved from Nesta's face. 'Do we meet as strangers?' he asked. 'No,' she said, a little unsteadily, and her lips quivered in spite of herself, as she strove in vain to meet his gaze calmly; 'as old friends, I hope.' 'Never!' he said, a passionate light coming to his eyes; 'it must be everything or nothing to me, as I told you long ago.' She was silent; a little sigh escaped her, so hopeless and yet so patient, that Major St. Clair continued hotly,— 'I would not have come here, had I known you were in this neighbourhood; but having met I cannot go without a word with you. Nesta, you are not happy; I see it in your face! Time has not soothed and comforted you; why will you not let me share your trouble and stand by you when perhaps you need a friend more than ever you did in days of old? Do you realize the blank you are making in my life, as well as in your own? Yes, I know I am taking much for granted; but yours is not a nature to change. I believe in you now as I always did, and it is only your mistaken ideas of duty that have brought this trouble into our lives.' He paused, and then Nesta spoke, looking away from the low churchyard wall by which they were standing to the hills in the distance. 'I am sorry we have met,' she said simply, 'very sorry, for it is pain to us both; but the circumstances in my life have not changed; I cannot act differently; my mother and sister require me, and my mother——' Her voice faltered. 'Your mother is still of the same opinion,' he said. 'I look back with regret to my heated words when last I saw her. Time and another Teacher has shown me since where I was wrong; but, Nesta, let me plead my—may I say our cause with her again? She has no right to spoil our lives, and it is no true kindness to her to allow her to do it. Give me your permission to come and see her.' 'I cannot; it will only stir up her grief and pain afresh. She will not, cannot, look at things in a different light.' 'And are you going to part with me like this?' His tone was low and husky with feeling. He added, a little drearily, 'I wonder, after all, if your affection has cooled; you speak so calmly about it all, that it makes one think——' Nesta heard him so far, and then put out her hand as if to stop him. 'Oh, Godfrey!' That was all; but as the old familiar name slipped from her lips she burst into tears, and turning aside, leant her arms on the old wall and buried her head in them. Major St. Clair stepped up quickly. 'Nesta, Nesta, you must not! I cannot stand it! My darling, we cannot part like this!' What he might have done was never known; perhaps, with his strong arm round her, Nesta would have yielded then and there; but a most inopportune childish voice broke in close by. 'You've made her cry! You've made my Miss Fairfax cry!' And with a little rush Betty flew to comfort her friend. In an instant Nesta was standing erect again. 'It is nothing, darling; we have been talking over old times. Good-bye, Major St. Clair.' She turned down a path at the side of the church, whilst Major St. Clair gazed after her in bewilderment and vexation. 'Oh!' he said, shaking his head at Betty as they retraced their way homewards, 'you're like a little boy I once knew, who would bring me a delicious plate of cherries. "Would you like to have some, major? Look at them; aren't they lovely?" And then, as I stretched out my hand, he would snatch them back with malicious glee, and gobble them up in my sight.' 'He was a very rude little boy,' said Betty, a little offended, 'and I don't think I'm a bit like him, for I haven't brought you anything this afternoon.' Very restless and uneasy was Major St. Clair all that evening; Captain Stuart more than once took him to task for his moodiness and absence of mind, but was quite unsuccessful in eliciting a satisfactory explanation. The next day they went off fishing together, but about four o'clock Major St. Clair left his friend and sauntered back to the house. Finding Betty and Prince playing together outside, he called her to him, and, lying full length on the grass, led her on to talk about Nesta. Betty innocently fell in with his wish; she gave him a graphic description of her day at Holly Grange, and then went back to the day when she first met Mrs. Fairfax in the wood. 'She's like a queen,' said the eager child; 'her face is so stern and proud, but she's very sad! Every grown-up person seems sad about here! I like Mrs. Fairfax very much; she gave me Prince.' Major St. Clair listened, and asked questions, and then suddenly started to his feet. 'Come for a walk with me,' he said; 'wait till I have written a letter, and then we will start.' 'To church again?' inquired Betty. 'No, not to church; to Holly Grange.' 'It's miles and miles,' said Betty dubiously; 'I went in a pony carriage, but if you go by the wood it is shorter.' 'Oh, we shall manage it very well, and if you are tired I will carry you.' Major St. Clair's tone was quite cheerful, and Betty set off with him, delighted at being chosen as his companion. 'Are you going to see Miss Fairfax?' she asked presently. 'No, I don't think I shall go into the house at all; but I want you to take a note to Mrs. Fairfax and bring me back an answer.' Betty coloured up with pleasure. 'I shall like to do that,' she said; 'it's such a nice house inside, and you should see the flowers! I think I could be quite happy if I were Mrs. Fairfax, couldn't you?' She chattered on, and when at last the gates were reached, Major St. Clair entrusted her with the important letter. 'Give it to Mrs. Fairfax yourself, Betty, and tell her I would like to see her very much.' Betty nodded, and clasped the letter tightly in one little hand, Prince followed her closely up the drive. The hall-door stood open, and for a moment the child hesitated; then the old butler crossed the hall, and she called out eagerly,— 'Please, can I come in and see Mrs. Fairfax?' The man looked surprised. 'I don't think she will see you,' he said, smiling; 'Mrs. Fairfax sees no visitors.' 'But I'm not a visitor,' said the little girl; 'I'm only Betty, and I've got a letter to give her.' 'I will go and see.' He disappeared, but returned a minute after. 'Come in, missy—this way.' He led the child into the drawing-room, where Mrs. Fairfax was presiding at the afternoon tea-table. Nesta was not there, and Grace was just leaving the room. A smile lightened Mrs. Fairfax's grave face at the sight of Betty. 'All alone?' she asked, bending down to kiss her. 'I've come to bring you a letter,' said Betty, dimpling over with pleasure and importance. Mrs. Fairfax made her sit down in a little cushioned chair, and took the note in her hand. As she read it, she knitted her brows, and her lips took their sternest curve; then rising she went to the farther end of the room, and stood looking out of the low French window, her back turned to Betty, and her hands clenched convulsively by her side. Nesta was right in surmising what a torrent of painful memories would be aroused by Major St. Clair's advent in their neighbourhood. If the letter had come a few weeks before, there would have been only one answer; but Mrs. Fairfax had been learning lately from the great Master Himself, and her heart was softened and subdued. Still it was a hard struggle, and pride fought for predominance. At length she turned round, and went to her writing-desk; and then Betty crept up softly to her. 'Major St. Clair asked me to ask you to see him,' she said, laying her little hand on Mrs. Fairfax's knee. 'I will write my answer, Betty; I cannot do that,' was the cold reply, as Mrs. Fairfax turned her head away from the child. But Betty was not to be put off. 'I think he would like to see you very much; and you'd like him, for he is Uncle Harry's friend; and he has such sad eyes, and he has been through tribulation like you; at least, he has had a big trouble, he told me; and that's just the same, isn't it?' There was no answer. Betty continued: 'Shall I just go out and bring him in? I've been telling him about you this afternoon, and how you gave me the lilies, and Prince, and he liked to hear it; he asked me a lot of questions, and I think he wants to see you, and if you're like a queen, like I told him!' Then Mrs. Fairfax lifted the child on her knee. 'Oh Betty, Betty!' was all she said, but some glistening drops fell on the child's curly head, as the grey head was bent over it, and Betty wondered why Mrs. Fairfax's voice sounded so strange. 'I think you will have to bring him in here,' Mrs. Fairfax said at last; and Betty trotted out of the room in great delight. She found the major pacing up and down the road with a white, resolute face. He threw away the cigar he was smoking when he saw the child, and asked, with anxiety in his dark eyes,— 'Well, little woman, how have you fared?' 'You're to come in and see her.' 'Thank God!' and not another word did the major say till he was in the drawing-room. It was a constrained and formal greeting between the two; and then Mrs. Fairfax turned to Betty,— 'Will you run into the garden, dear, till we call you? I think Grace is out there.' Betty obeyed. Grace was walking slowly up and down the path, enveloped in shawls, and did not look well-pleased when the childish voice sounded in her ear,— 'May I come and walk with you?' 'Were you sent out here? Nesta, I suppose, as usual is out, so she will not be able to look after you, and I certainly am not in a fit state of health to amuse you and keep you out of mischief.' 'I'm not going to get into mischief, really,' protested Betty in an aggrieved tone; 'I'll walk quietly along with you, and won't even pick a flower. Are you better today?' 'No, I am not better—I don't expect I ever shall be, though I can get no sympathy from any one in this house.' 'What's the matter with you?' asked Betty. 'Now, if you are going to worry me with questions, you can just run away; if you were to be kept awake night after night, and never know what it was to be without headaches, having every nerve in your body quivering from exhaustion, you wouldn't wonder what the matter was.' 'I expect you're like Violet, only she could never leave her bed. Mr. Russell said she would sometimes have no sleep all night, and she was so patient, she used to say, "Read me about there shall be no pain." Mr. Russell said he wouldn't have been half so patient as she was. And now she is singing right in the middle of "these are they which came out of great tribulation." Wouldn't you like to be her?' Grace was silent. Betty's active little tongue turned to other subjects; she told about her visit to the Hall, of her 'dead figure' which was being made out of 'soft putty'; of Prince's misdemeanours when he tried to chase chickens, and then came back to his little mistress with his tail between his legs; of Douglas and Molly's wonderful games, and the twins' talents for getting into trouble; she told her of her walk on the roof, and the story of the young soldiers related by Uncle Harry; and Grace listened, and eventually was amused and interested in spite of herself. It was a long time before Betty was summoned to the house; and then she met the major in the hall. 'Run in, little one, and wish Mrs. Fairfax good-bye.' Mrs. Fairfax stooped to kiss Betty; all the hard lines in her face had disappeared, and her voice was unusually gentle. 'You must come and see me another day, when I have no business to occupy me.' And Betty put her arms round her neck, and gave her a delighted hug. 'You will meet Nesta coming back from the church if you keep to the lane,' Mrs. Fairfax said, speaking to Major St. Clair; 'and we shall expect you to dinner tomorrow.' He raised his hat, and strode round the shrubbery with such energy that it was all Betty could do to keep up with him. 'Don't you think Mrs. Fairfax like a queen?' asked Betty presently. 'Was she like what I told you?' 'I have seen Mrs. Fairfax before,' was the major's short reply; and Betty gave a little disappointed 'Oh!' Not long afterwards they came in sight of Nesta. She was walking along rather slowly, her eyes and her thoughts far away; but when she saw who it was, a quick colour spread over her face. Major St. Clair stepped forward quickly. 'Your mother has sent me to you,' he said; and there was a glad ring in his tone. Nesta looked up at him bewildered. 'My mother! Have you seen her?' 'Yes; thanks to this little person here with me.' Betty was kissed, but for once Nesta seemed oblivious of her presence. The child could not understand it, neither could she understand the explanation that followed in low, earnest tones. She saw Nesta's eyes light up with a sudden joy, and then fill with tears; she saw Major St. Clair bend his head very close to hers, and though she stood silently by she might just as well have been miles away, for all the notice that she received. At last with a little sigh she said,— 'I'm rather tired; I think I'll go home with Prince.' Nesta turned to her at once. 'You poor little mite! Godfrey, will you carry her? I must leave you. No, don't come with me. I shall see you to-morrow, and I would rather see my mother alone. She has been so different lately, but I never dared to hope for this! Good-bye, Betty; you have been our little benefactor.' Betty was hoisted on the broad shoulders of the major, and carried home in silence; he was busy with his own thoughts, and she was tired and sleepy. They found Captain Stuart impatiently waiting for dinner. 'Where have you been?' he asked; 'has Betty bewitched you?' 'She has done me a good turn to-day,' responded the major. Betty dipped her little hand into her uncle's. 'We've been to Holly Grange, Uncle Harry. I think Major St. Clair and my Miss Fairfax must have quarrelled yesterday, for he made her cry; but they kissed each other and made it up to-day, and now we're all friends.' <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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