We Two [145]
wholly in love, he speedily forgot himself in real anxiety.
"I hope you haven't taken cold," he said, with great solicitude.
"Oh, no," said Erica; "but I want to be careful for the night-school work will be beginning soon, and I must go home fresh for that."
Something in her words broke the spell of perfect happiness which had hitherto held him. Was it the mention of her every-day life, with its surroundings unknown to him? Or was it some faint perception that in the world of duty to which she referred their paths could not rightly converge? A cold chill crept over him.
"You were quite right," he said with an involuntary shiver. "It is decidedly cold out here; the mist rises from the river, I expect, or else your reference to the working-day world has recalled me from fairy-land. You should not speak of work in such a place as this it is incongruous."
She smiled.
"Ernst ist das leben," she replied quietly. "One can't forget that even at such a time as this, and in such a place."
"How is it that some never forget that for a moment, while others never remember it at all?" he said musingly.
"Some of us have no excuse for ever forgetting," she answered "hardly a chance either."
And though the words were vague, they shadowed out to him much of her life a life never free from sorrow, burdened with constant care and anxiety, and ever confronted by some of the most perplexing world problems. A longing to shield, and protect, and comfort her rose in his heart, yet all the time he instinctively knew that hers was the stronger nature.
It seemed that the seriousness of life was to be borne in upon them specially that evening, for, returning to the drawing room, they found Donovan released from his interview, and relating with some indignation the pitiable story he had just heard. It only reached Leslie Cunningham in fragments, however over crowding, children sleeping six in a bed, two of them with scarlet fever, no fever hospital, no accommodation for them, an inspector, medical officer, the board how drearily dry all the details seemed to him. He could do nothing but watch Erica's eager face with its ever-varying play of expression. He hardly knew whether to be angry with Donovan Farrant for alluding to matters which brought a look of sadness to her eyes, or to thank him for the story which made her face light up with indignation and look, if possible, more beautiful than before.
"Don't offer to put up a fever shanty on the lawn," said Gladys when her husband paused.
"I wish we had an empty cottage where we could put them" said Donovan; "but I am afraid all I can do is to bring pressure to bear upon the authorities. We'll ride over together, Cunningham, and Jack Trevethan, our manager, shall show you the tavern while I rout out this medical officer."
They had had tea; there was no longer any excuse for delaying. Leslie, with an outward smile and an inward sigh, turned to take leave of Erica. She was bending over a basket in which was curled up the invalid fox terrier. For a moment she left off stroking the white and tan head, and held out her hand.
"Goodbye," she said frankly.
That was all. And yet it made Leslie's heart bound. Was he indeed to go to Switzerland tomorrow? He MUST manage to get out of it somehow.
And all the way to Greyshot he listened to schemes for the work to be done next session from the ardent sanitary reformer, though just then the devastation of all England would scarcely have roused him so long as he was assured of the safety of Luke Raeburn's daughter.
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Happiest of Weeks
He went in the strength of dependence To tread where his Master trod, To gather and knit together The Family of God.
With a conscience freed from burdens, And a heart set free from care, To minister to every one Always and everywhere. Author of Chronicles of the Schonberg Cotta Family
After this came a happy, uneventful week at the manor. Erica often thought of the definition of happiness which Charles Osmond had once given her "Perfect harmony
"I hope you haven't taken cold," he said, with great solicitude.
"Oh, no," said Erica; "but I want to be careful for the night-school work will be beginning soon, and I must go home fresh for that."
Something in her words broke the spell of perfect happiness which had hitherto held him. Was it the mention of her every-day life, with its surroundings unknown to him? Or was it some faint perception that in the world of duty to which she referred their paths could not rightly converge? A cold chill crept over him.
"You were quite right," he said with an involuntary shiver. "It is decidedly cold out here; the mist rises from the river, I expect, or else your reference to the working-day world has recalled me from fairy-land. You should not speak of work in such a place as this it is incongruous."
She smiled.
"Ernst ist das leben," she replied quietly. "One can't forget that even at such a time as this, and in such a place."
"How is it that some never forget that for a moment, while others never remember it at all?" he said musingly.
"Some of us have no excuse for ever forgetting," she answered "hardly a chance either."
And though the words were vague, they shadowed out to him much of her life a life never free from sorrow, burdened with constant care and anxiety, and ever confronted by some of the most perplexing world problems. A longing to shield, and protect, and comfort her rose in his heart, yet all the time he instinctively knew that hers was the stronger nature.
It seemed that the seriousness of life was to be borne in upon them specially that evening, for, returning to the drawing room, they found Donovan released from his interview, and relating with some indignation the pitiable story he had just heard. It only reached Leslie Cunningham in fragments, however over crowding, children sleeping six in a bed, two of them with scarlet fever, no fever hospital, no accommodation for them, an inspector, medical officer, the board how drearily dry all the details seemed to him. He could do nothing but watch Erica's eager face with its ever-varying play of expression. He hardly knew whether to be angry with Donovan Farrant for alluding to matters which brought a look of sadness to her eyes, or to thank him for the story which made her face light up with indignation and look, if possible, more beautiful than before.
"Don't offer to put up a fever shanty on the lawn," said Gladys when her husband paused.
"I wish we had an empty cottage where we could put them" said Donovan; "but I am afraid all I can do is to bring pressure to bear upon the authorities. We'll ride over together, Cunningham, and Jack Trevethan, our manager, shall show you the tavern while I rout out this medical officer."
They had had tea; there was no longer any excuse for delaying. Leslie, with an outward smile and an inward sigh, turned to take leave of Erica. She was bending over a basket in which was curled up the invalid fox terrier. For a moment she left off stroking the white and tan head, and held out her hand.
"Goodbye," she said frankly.
That was all. And yet it made Leslie's heart bound. Was he indeed to go to Switzerland tomorrow? He MUST manage to get out of it somehow.
And all the way to Greyshot he listened to schemes for the work to be done next session from the ardent sanitary reformer, though just then the devastation of all England would scarcely have roused him so long as he was assured of the safety of Luke Raeburn's daughter.
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Happiest of Weeks
He went in the strength of dependence To tread where his Master trod, To gather and knit together The Family of God.
With a conscience freed from burdens, And a heart set free from care, To minister to every one Always and everywhere. Author of Chronicles of the Schonberg Cotta Family
After this came a happy, uneventful week at the manor. Erica often thought of the definition of happiness which Charles Osmond had once given her "Perfect harmony