"I don't know what you can do. It's no use suggesting a housekeeper--
the boys would not hear of it, and she'd be destroyed in a week with the
life they would lead her!" So argued Bridgie, but she was willing to be
convinced, and too happy in the present to feel much concern for the
future.
The weight of depression which had lain on her heart despite her brave
cheeriness of manner was lifted once and for ever now that she was
convinced of Dick's faithful love, and it seemed impossible that she
could ever be more content than at this moment. Until now almost all
the joys of her life had come from an unselfish pleasure in the good
fortune of others, but this wonderful new happiness was her very own,
hers and Dick's, and she could hardly believe that it was true, and not
a wonderful dream.
Mrs Wallace's letter had conveyed an invitation to stay for the night,
so the lovers had two days to sit and talk together in the lovely summer
garden before returning to give an account of themselves in Rutland
Road.
Jack was not prepared to see a stranger accompanying his sister, but he
welcomed him with Irish heartiness, and guessed how the land lay at the
first glance at Bridgie's face. So did Pat; so did Miles; but they
concealed their suspicions with admirable tact, and talked persistently
through the evening meal with intent to relieve the embarrassment which
was so evidently experienced by the hostess.
Poor Bridgie was painfully conscious of the enormity of her conduct as
she looked from one to the other of her three big brothers. Jack's
manner was nervous and excited. Poor fellow! he was evidently dreading
the explanations which were in store. Pat was looking pale; he grew so
fast that he needed constant care. Miles kept handing her the mustard
with sympathetic effusion; he had a heart of gold and could be led with
a word, but it must be the right word, and woe to the housekeeper of the
future if she tried to rule by force! She smiled at him with wistful
apology, and Miles patted her hand affectionately under the tablecloth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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