Guy returned to Hollywell on the Friday, there to spend a quiet week with them all, for it was a special delight to Amy that Hollywell and her family were as precious to him for their own sakes as for hers. It was said that it was to be a quiet week--but with all the best efforts of Mrs. Edmonstone and Laura to preserve quiet, there was an amount, of confusion that would have been very disturbing, but for Amy"s propensity never to be ruffled or fluttered.

What was to be done in the honeymoon was the question for consideration.

Guy and Amy would have liked to make a tour among the English cathedrals, pay a visit at Hollywell, and then go home and live in a corner of the house till the rest was ready; for Amy could not see why she should take up so much more room than old Sir Guy, and Guy declared he could not see that happiness was a reason for going pleasure-hunting; but Charles p.r.o.nounced this very stupid, and Mr. Edmonstone thought a journey on the Continent was the only proper thing for them to do. Mrs.

Edmonstone wished Amy to see a little of the world. Amy was known to have always desired to see Switzerland; it occurred to Guy that it would be a capital opportunity of taking Arnaud to see the relations he had been talking for the last twenty years of visiting, and so they acquiesced; for as Guy said, when they talked it over together, it did not seem to him to come under the denomination of pleasure-hunting, since they had not devised it for themselves; they had no house to go to; they should do Arnaud a service, and perhaps they should meet Philip.

"That will not be pleasure-hunting, certainly," said Amy; then, remembering that he could not bear to hear Philip under-rated, she added, "I mean, unless you could convince him, and then it would be more than pleasure."

"It would be my first of unattained wishes," said Guy. "Then we will enjoy the journey."

"No fear on that score,"

"And for fear we should get too much into the stream of enjoyment, as people abroad forget home-duties, let us stick to some fixed time for coming back."

"You said Redclyffe would be ready by Michaelmas."

"I have told the builder it must be. So, Amy, as far as it depends on ourselves, we are determined to be at home by Michaelmas."

All seemed surprised to find the time for the wedding so near at hand.

Charles"s spirits began to flag, Amy was a greater loss to him than to anybody else; she could never again be to him what she had been, and unable as he was to take part in the general bustle and occupation, he had more time for feeling this, much more than his mother and Laura, who were employed all day. He and Guy were exemplary in their civilities to each other in not engrossing Amy, and one who had only known him three years ago, when he was all exaction and selfishness, could have hardly believed him to be the same person who was now only striving to avoid giving pain, by showing how much it cost him to yield up his sister. He could contrive to be merry, but the difficulty was to be cheerful; he could make them all laugh in spite of themselves, but when alone with Amy, or when hearing her devolve on her sisters the services she had been wont to perform for him, it was almost more than he could endure; but then he dreaded setting Amy off into one of her silent crying-fits, for which the only remedy was the planning a grand visit to Redclyffe, and talking overall the facilities of railroads and carriages.

The last day had come, and a long strange one it was; not exactly joyful to any, and very sad to some, though Amy, with her sweet pensive face, seemed to have a serenity of her own that soothed them whenever they looked at her. Charlotte, though inclined to be wild and flighty, was checked and subdued in her presence; Laura could not be entirely wretched about her; Charles lay and looked at her without speaking; her father never met her without kissing her on each side of her face, and calling her his little jewel; her mother--but who could describe Mrs.

Edmonstone on that day, so full of the present pain, contending with the unselfish gladness.

Guy kept out of the way, thinking Amy ought to be left to them. He sat in his own room a good while, afterwards rode to Broadstone, in coming home made a long visit to Mr. Ross; and when he returned, he found Charles in his wheeled chair on the lawn, with Amy sitting on the gra.s.s by his side. He sat down by her and there followed a long silence,--one of those pauses full of meaning.

"When shall we three meet again?" at length said Charles, in a would-be lively tone.

"And where?" said Amy.

"Here," said Charles; "you will come here to tell your adventures, and take up Bustle."

"I hope so," said Guy. "We could not help it. The telling you about it will be a treat to look forward to all the time."

"Yes; your sight-seeing is a public benefit. You have seen many a thing for me."

"That is the pleasure of seeing and hearing, the thing that is not fleeting," said Guy.

"The unselfish part, you mean," said Charles; and mused again, till Guy, starting up, exclaimed--

"There are the people!" as a carriage came in view in the lane. "Shall I wheel you home, Charlie?"

"Yes, do."

Guy leant over the back, and pushed him along; and as he did so murmured in a low tremulous tone, "Wherever or whenever we may be destined to meet, Charlie, or if never again, I must thank you for a great part of my happiness here--for a great deal of kindness and sympathy."

Charles looked straight before him, and answered--"The kindness was all on your part. I had nothing to give in return but ill-temper and exactions. But, Guy, you must not think I have not felt all you have done for me. You have made a new man of me, instead of a wretched stick, laughing at my misery, to persuade myself and others that I did not feel it. I hope you are proud of it."

"As if I had anything to do with it!"

"Hadn"t, you, that"s all! I know what you won"t deny, at any rate--what a capital man-of-all-work you have been to me, when I had no right to ask it, as now we have," he added, smiling, because Amy was looking at him, but not making a very successful matter of the smile. "When you come back, you"ll see me treat you as indeed "a man and a brother.""

This talk r.e.t.a.r.ded them a little, and they did not reach the house till the guests were arriving. The first sight that met the eyes of Aunt Charlotte and Lady Eveleen as they entered, was, in the frame of the open window, Guy"s light agile figure, a.s.sisting Charles up the step, his brilliant hazel eyes and glowing healthy complexion contrasting with Charles"s pale, fair, delicate face, and features sharpened and refined by suffering. Amy, her deep blushes and downcast eyes almost hidden by her glossy curls, stood just behind, carrying her brother"s crutch.

"There they are," cried Miss Edmonstone, springing forward from her brother and his wife, and throwing her arms round Amy in a warm embrace.

"My dear, dear little niece, I congratulate you with all my heart, and that I do."

"I"ll spare your hot cheeks, Amy dearest!" whispered Eveleen, as Amy pa.s.sed to her embrace, while Aunt Charlotte hastily kissed Charles, and proceeded--"I don"t wait for an introduction;" and vehemently shook hands with Guy.

"Ay, did I say a word too much in his praise?" said Mr. Edmonstone.

"Isn"t he all out as fine a fellow as I told you?"

Guy was glad to turn away to shake hands with Lord Kilcoran, and the next moment he drew Amy out of the group eagerly talking round Charles"s sofa, and holding her hand, led her up to a st.u.r.dy, ruddy-brown, elderly man, who had come in at the same time, but after the first reception had no share in the family greetings. "You know him, already," said Guy; and Amy held out her hand, saying--

"Yes, I am sure I do."

Markham was taken by surprise, he gave a most satisfied grunt, and shook hands as heartily as if she had been his favourite niece.

"And the little girl?" said Amy.

"O yes.--I picked her up at St. Mildred"s: one of the servants took charge of her in the hall."

"I"ll fetch her," cried Charlotte, as Amy was turning to the door, and the next moment she led in little Marianne Dixon, clinging to her hand.

Amy kissed her, and held her fast in her arms, and Marianne looked up, consoled in her bewilderment, by the greeting of her dear old friend, Sir Guy.

Mr. Edmonstone patted her head; and when the others had spoken kindly to her, Charlotte, under whose especial charge Guy and Amy had placed her, carried her off to the regions up-stairs.

The rest of the evening was hurry and confusion. Mrs. Edmonstone was very busy, and glad to be so, as she must otherwise have given way; and there was Aunt Charlotte to be talked to, whom they had not seen since Charles"s illness. She was a short, bustling, active person, with a joyous face, inexhaustible good-humour, a considerable touch of Irish, and referring everything to her mother,--her one thought. Everything was to be told to her, and the only drawback to her complete pleasure was the anxiety lest she should be missed at home.

Mrs. Edmonstone was occupied with her, telling her the history of the engagement, and praising Guy; Amy went up as soon as dinner was over, to take leave of old nurse, and to see little Marianne; and Eveleen sat between Laura and Charlotte, asking many eager questions, which were not all convenient to answer.

Why Sir Guy had not been at home at Christmas was a query to which it seemed as if she should never gain a reply; for that Charles had been ill, and Guy at Redclyffe, was no real answer; and finding she should not be told, she wisely held her tongue. Again she made an awkward inquiry--

"Now tell me, is Captain Morville pleased about this or not?"

Laura would have been silent, trusting to Eveleen"s propensity for talking, for bringing her to some speech that it might be easier to answer, but Charlotte exclaimed, "What has he been saying about it?"

"Saying? O nothing. But why does not he come?"

"You have seen him more lately than we have," said Laura.

"That is an evasion," said Eveleen; "as if you did not know more of his mind than I could ever get at, if I saw him every day of my life."

"He is provoking, that is all," answered Charlotte. "I am sure we don"t want him; but Laura and Guy will both of them take his part."

A call came at that moment,--the box of white gloves was come, and Laura must come and count them. She would fain have taken Charlotte with her; but neither Charlotte nor Eveleen appeared disposed to move, and she was obliged to leave them. Eva had already guessed that there was more chance of hearing the facts from Charlotte, and presently she knew a good deal. Charlotte had some prudence, but she thought she might tell her own cousin what half the neighbourhood knew--that Philip had suspected Guy falsely, and had made papa very angry with him, that the engagement had been broken off, and Guy had been banished, while all the time he was behaving most gloriously. Now it was all explained; but in spite of the fullest certainty, Philip would not be convinced, and wanted them to have waited five years.

Eveleen agreed with Charlotte that this was a great deal too bad, admired Guy, and pitied Amy to her heart"s content.

"So, he was banished, regularly banished!" said she. "However of course Amy never gave him up."