CHAPTER V.

AFTERWARDS.

"HONOR! Is the child safe? Oh, Honor!"

Gwendoline started up in bed to a sitting posture, suddenly awake to the situation. She had been dimly conscious of her whereabouts for an hour past, conscious of very sick and weary sensations, and of moving figures around her; conscious also of an indefinite sense of fear from time to time, which made her cling to her friend's hand for protection. She had not, in her exhaustion, yet remembered what had occurred, or thought of asking about the child. But as she lay half sleeping, with the pleasant protectiveness of Honora's cool hand clasping hers, clear recollection flashed all at once into her mind.

"Honor! What am I about? I had quite forgotten. Is the boy safe?"

"Keep quiet, Gwennie. You are under doctor's orders," said Honora.

"What doctor? Why, I am not ill."

"Mr. Fosbrook. You have been quite well the last hour, haven't you, Gwen?"

Gwendoline's mind travelled back. "I had forgotten. But I am all right now. How about the boy?"

"Mr. Fosbrook is with him. They are doing all they can," said Honora gently.

"Then he has not come to yet? I did my best, my very best," said Gwendoline sorrowfully. "I could not manage to hold the poor little head higher; and that last wave nearly did for both of us, I think. He was longer in the water than I. Is there no hope for him?"

"They do not give up hope. He may revive even now. If not, you will still know that you did your utmost. The men cannot say enough about your courage."

"Courage! That is nothing. I couldn't have stood by to see him drown. Oh, Honor, if it has been useless after all! I do wish I had tried a little harder."

"It was not possible. Don't take a morbid view of the matter, Gwen. You endangered your own life for his, and you could not have done more. The result must be in God's hands."

"Poor little fellow! I wonder if he has a mother," Gwendoline said. Tears were dropping—a rare event with her; but she had been unnerved.

"Not a mother, I believe—only a sister who takes the place of a mother. I have been too busy with you to learn particulars. I will go now, and see how he is, if you can promise to keep yourself quiet meantime."

She found efforts being still carried on, with unremitting vigour, as yet unsuccessfully. Mr. Fosbrook, a man of about forty, thin, but well-knit, with sallow complexion and observant eyes, was alike directing operations and taking an abundant share in them himself. His assistants were Mr. Widrington and the three sailors. Mrs. Widrington flustered hither and thither, procuring whatever was asked for, and making numberless suggestions which nobody heeded.

No time had been lost, for Mr. Fosbrook had happened to pass at the very moment of the accident, and he was himself the fourth man in the boat which put off to the rescue. But the small figure lay still to all appearance lifeless, and one and another was silently giving up hope. Honora stood unnoticed for a few seconds near the door.

"I'm afeared it's all up with him, poor little chap," one of the men said. "I don't see as it's much use keeping on."

"Nor I," said Mr. Widrington, though he did not venture to stop rubbing. "I could tell from the first it wouldn't be no good. Trust me to know! He's dead, wifie."

Mrs. Widrington put her handkerchief to her eyes. Mr. Fosbrook had stooped low, to place his ear over the child's heart, and he stood up now, with a sharp glance round.

"Keep on. Don't slacken for an instant. Heat more flannels! It is 'not' all up with him."

"Do you mean to say he is alive, doctor?" exclaimed Mrs. Widrington. "I shouldn't have thought it, now. Poor dear little man."

Mr. Fosbrook held again to the parted lips a tiny feather, brought to him by Honora. "See," he said; and there was indeed a faint stir visible.

"Why, so he is! Why, he isn't dead after all!" exclaimed Mrs. Widrington. "Now I am glad. And that brave girl won't have risked drowning for nothing. Do you think we may say he is out of danger, doctor? I should like to send word to his sister, poor thing! And wouldn't you like me to get some beef-tea or something ready? I shouldn't wonder if the butcher's shop was open still, and Mary Jane could run for a pound of beef. He'll want something when he comes to. What do you think, Honor?"

Mrs. Widrington's excited little patter of talk seemed to be unheard by Mr. Fosbrook, but at the last word he turned himself about.

"Miss Halcombe doing well?" he asked, looking at Honora.

"She is quite herself, and very anxious about the child."

"Tell her there are signs of life. I hope we shall bring him round yet."

Honora went swiftly back to bear the message, and to spend another hour of suspense by Gwendoline's side. Gwendoline said little, only lay with eager eyes and tremulous lips, watching for tidings. Once or twice Mrs. Widrington fluttered in, carrying a gentle bustle with her, and assuring them that the little boy was getting on beautifully; a statement somewhat modified by a very audible whisper to Honora, that "she didn't believe he would ever get over it, and she could see the doctor thought so too."

"And he's a clever man, is Mr. Fosbrook," she added aloud for the benefit of both; "and a kind one, though he is rather positive, and says a sharp word sometimes. But I'm sure he'd do anything for anybody, if he thought it right. I wonder he don't marry, for he's getting on in life, and he looks sickly, as if he wanted somebody to take care of him. Only think, Honor, the poor little boy hasn't any mother living, and his father was drowned at sea only last year; wouldn't it have been strange if he had been drowned too?—And he would have been if it wasn't for this brave girl. And there's a sister who takes care of the three children, and she is lame or something, and can't come to him. They say she is half-frantic, poor creature, she cares so much for this boy. He's a pretty little fellow, and I don't wonder. She must be a great deal older than these younger children. I wonder if she's only a half-sister. Now don't you make yourself unhappy, Miss Halcombe. I'll soon come back with more news."

But Mr. Fosbrook himself came next. His first move was to take Gwendoline's hand, and to shake it gently.

"I congratulate you with all my heart on having saved a life," he said. "You have acted nobly."

Gwendoline's lips twitched, and she laughed in a nervous manner. "If I saved one, you helped to save two," she said.

"Ay, but not at the risk of my own. There is a slight difference, Miss Halcombe. You ought to have a Humane Society's medal."

"Oh, no, no, thank you! I should not like any fuss," said Gwendoline. "Nothing of that sort. But I am so glad. Poor little boy."

"Is he quite out of danger?" asked Honora.

"Quite out of immediate danger. I cannot answer for after consequences."

"Honor," Gwendoline said softly, a little later, when they were again alone, "I did not know that the purpose of my coming to Riversmouth was to be this. I expected something quite different."

"I suppose there is always a purpose in each step of our way," said Honora. "But God's purpose for us and our own purpose for ourselves are often not identical."

Gwendoline smiled assent, and seemed indisposed to carry on the conversation. Honora was glad to see her growing sleepy; but suddenly the sleepiness vanished, and she started up.

"Honor!"

"What is the matter?"

"Dinner at Lady Halcot's."

"Past eleven o'clock, Gwen, so I am afraid you can't go now."

"No, but seriously—was no excuse sent?"

"I am sorry to say I forgot all about it till an hour ago, and then it was too late. Besides, we really had no one to spare for a messenger earlier in the evening. We must despatch a note of explanation in the morning."

"I am not going to have any stir made," said Gwendoline resolutely. "My part of the affair was only just doing what I had to do, and what anybody else must have done in my place. I shall tell Lady Halcot that I had an accidental wetting, and that I was very sorry not to go to her."

To this plan she adhered when morning came. Honora would have preferred a little more explicitness, but Gwendoline shrank from any appearance of boasting, and the note was despatched as she wrote it.

"I don't see as the thing matters either way," Mr. Widrington said to his niece. "News travels apace, and her ladyship is sure to hear the story before many hours are over,—take my word for it."

Mr. Widrington was mistaken, so far as hours were concerned. Riversmouth news did not always reach Lady Halcot quickly. She fenced herself round with an enclosure of distant reserve, and few ventured to address her uninvited. Miss Withers heard the tale, of course, but Miss Withers did not repeat it, and for many days Lady Halcot believed that Gwendoline had made use of a trivial excuse to set aside her engagement. Such a belief implied displeasure on the part of Lady Halcot.

So also thought Mr. Selwyn. He returned by an early train, having not even seen the note which Gwendoline sent. He ascribed her non-appearance at dinner to a fit of girlish shyness or pride, and was alike vexed for her and disappointed in her. He had counted Miss Halcombe to be rather superior to some feminine weaknesses.

Gwendoline's return home suffered only a day's postponement. She was somewhat shaken by her adventure, and the doctor counselled longer delay; but Honora could not remain, and Gwendoline would not consent to be left behind. She wrote home lightly of what had occurred, making little of the matter, and Honora, by her request, did not write at all.