"Where is he?" asked he at last, his face still hidden in his prostrate arms.
"In your study, quite alone. I lighted the taper, and ran up to tell you. Heis quite alone, and will be wondering why--"
"I will go to him," broke in her father; and he lifted himself up and leanton her arm as on that of a guide.
Margaret led him to the study door, but her spirits were so agitated thatshe felt she could not bear to see the meeting. She turned away, and ranup-stairs, and cried most heartily. It was the first time she had dared toallow herself this relief for days. The strain had been terrible, as shenow felt. But Frederick was come! He, the one precious brother, wasthere, safe, amongst them again! She could hardly believe it. Shestopped her crying, and opened her bedroom door. She heard no soundof voices, and almost feared she might have dreamt. She went downstairs,and listened at the study door. She heard the buzz of voices; andthat was enough. She went into the kitchen, and stirred up the fire, andlighted the house, and prepared for the wanderer"s refreshment. Howfortunate it was that her mother slept! She knew that she did, from thecandle-lighter thrust through the keyhole of her bedroom door. Thetraveller could be refreshed and bright, and the first excitement of themeeting with his father all be over, before her mother became aware ofanything unusual.
When all was ready, Margaret opened the study door, and went in like aserving-maiden, with a heavy tray. held in her extended arms. She wasproud of serving Frederick. But he, when he saw her, sprang up in aminute, and relieved her of her burden. It was a type, a sign, of all thecoming relief which his presence would bring. The brother and sisterarranged the table together, saying little, but their hands touching, andtheir eyes speaking the natural language of expression, so intelligible tothose of the same blood. The fire had gone out; and Margaret appliedherself to light it, for the evenings had begun to be chilly; and yet it wasdesirable to make all noises as distant as possible from Mrs. Hale"sroom.
"Dixon says it is a gift to light a fire; not an art to be acquired."
"Poeta nascitur, non fit," murmured Mr. Hale; and Margaret was glad tohear a quotation once more, however languidly given.
"Dear old Dixon! How we shall kiss each other!" said Frederick. "Sheused to kiss me, and then look in my face to be sure I was the rightperson, and then set to again! But, Margaret, what a bungler you are! Inever saw such a little awkward, good-for-nothing pair of hands. Runaway, and wash them, ready to cut bread-and-butter for me, and leavethe fire. I"ll manage it. Lighting fires is one of my naturalaccomplishments."
So Margaret went away; and returned; and passed in and out of theroom, in a glad restlessness that could not be satisfied with sitting still.
The more wants Frederick had, the better she was pleased; and heunderstood all this by instinct. It was a joy snatched in the house ofmourning, and the zest of it was all the more pungent, because theyknew in the depths of their hearts what irremediable sorrow awaitedthem.
In the middle, they heard Dixon"s foot on the stairs. Mr. Hale startedfrom his languid posture in his great armchair, from which he had beenwatching his children in a dreamy way, as if they were acting somedrama of happiness, which it was pretty to look at, but which wasdistinct from reality, and in which he had no part. He stood up, andfaced the door, showing such a strange, sudden anxiety to concealFrederick from the sight of any person entering, even though it were thefaithful Dixon, that a shiver came over Margaret"s heart: it reminded herof the new fear in their lives. She caught at Frederick"s arm, andclutched it tight, while a stern thought compressed her brows, andcaused her to set her teeth. And yet they knew it was only Dixon"smeasured tread. They heard her walk the length of the passage, into thekitchen. Margaret rose up.
I will go to her, and tell her. And I shall hear how mamma is." Mrs. Halewas awake. She rambled at first; but after they had given her some teashe was refreshed, though not disposed to talk. It was better that thenight should pass over before she was told of her son"s arrival. Dr.
Donaldson"s appointed visit would bring nervous excitement enough forthe evening; and he might tell them how to prepare her for seeingFrederick. He was there, in the house; could be summoned at anymoment.
