CHAPTER XIII

JOCK'S ARRIVAL

IT was early dawn when he arrived. Orris met him at the front door, and for the first time, her fortitude nearly forsook her.

"She is sinking fast," she said, as she held out her hand to him, "but she still murmurs your name. She has had no sleep for twenty-four hours, but she is barely conscious."

She led the way swiftly upstairs, and Jock followed her in perfect silence. The darkened room, the tiny wasted form in the bed, the agonized look in Orris's eyes as she signed to him to come near, sent a thrill through Jock's heart. But very softly, he seated himself by the bed, and took the little hand in his.

"Little Elf!" he said, in his cheerful good-natured tone.

Instantly the heavy lashes quivered and the eyelids opened. A long look of recognition followed.

"Master—" the little voice could get no farther, and trailed away into silence.

"Yes, I'm here; and we're going to have great fun when you get better."

Pippa drew his hand up to her, and laid her cheek on it with a quivering smile, the first smile that Orris had seen for many a long day. Her lips moved.

"Stay."

"Yes, I'm going to stay all right."

The heavy eyelids shut again. Orris came forward, and with a teaspoon got some meat jelly into her mouth. She swallowed it, pillowed her cheek afresh on Jock's hand with infinite satisfaction, and dropped off into a sound and healing sleep. Jock sat still, and for two hours never moved.

"It's touch and go with her," Orris had whispered.

He nodded, but the tender pity and love in his face, as he looked at Pippa, brought the tears with a rush to Orris's eyes.

She sat on the opposite side of the bed, and they waited together for the awakening. At one time, Orris thought she might even now be slipping away from them, so faint was her breathing, but Jock reassured her.

"She is breathing regularly. I believe she'll pull round."

His quiet cheery voice brought hope and balm to Orris's soul. She was nearly at the end of her strength, and Jock was shocked to see how thin and worn she had become.

When at last Pippa opened her eyes, Maria Dabbs came forward.

"Go and have something to eat, ma'am. You've been up all night. I'll call you if there's any change. She'll take some food from me, I know."

"You've comed at last," said Pippa in a faint whisper, as poor Jock's hand was released.

He stood up and smiled upon her.

"Yes; and I'm not going to be sent away from you, either," he said in his pleasant way. "There's no Snuffy in this house, is there? Now I'm going to take Aunt Ollie away and make her eat some breakfast. And then we'll come back to you. What you have to do is to sleep and eat all day long until you get strong enough to play hide-and-seek with me."

Pippa smiled. She was being fed by Maria; and then again her eyelids closed, and she slept.

When a little later Jock and Orris met downstairs for breakfast, they were strangely composed and quiet. Pippa was the one subject of their conversation. Orris was asked how long she had been ill, and she gave as much detail as she could.

"I believe," she said, "you have brought her the sleep she needed. She was really fretting to see you. She has never forgotten you, and has talked about you perpetually."

"I could not come till you sent for me," said Jock gravely.

Orris said nothing; then asked him if he had been travelling all night.

"More or less. I started at midnight. There was no train before."

"The doctor will be here directly. We will wait to hear how he finds her, and then you will have some rest, will you not?"

Jock gave a quiet laugh.

"A sleepless night is nothing to me," he said. "I should think you are far more in need of rest than I. Is there an inn of any sort in your village where I could get a bed to-night?"

Orris considered.

"I believe that Mrs. Perkins could put you up," she said. "Perkins is our old coachman here. He lives in the cottage at the bottom of the drive. Would you like to walk down and see?"

"Thanks, but I'll wait till we know how the wee Elf is." Then, after a pause, he asked: "And how long have you been here? I thought you were living in the village."

"Who told you that?"

He looked up at her with a little of the old mischief in his eyes.

"Well, I came down to see one day. Do you wonder how I found out your retreat? In the simplest way possible.

"I knew your banker in Veddon Weal. I went straight to him before you had had time to pledge him to secrecy. He told me you were going to Devonshire, he believed; you had been over, and mentioned Cudweed Cove to him. So two months ago, I ached for the sight of you, and my patience was well-nigh exhausted. I came as a tourist, slept in Drangerford for the night, and got to Cudweed one fine morning—borrowed a motor cycle. I dodged you about the whole morning, saw you and the Elf on the sands, and was satisfied that you were well and happy. I gossiped with the fisher-folk a bit, was told where you were lodging, and went home in the afternoon."

"Oh!" said Orris, with a little sigh. "I don't think there is another man in the whole world so foolish as you."

"Is this a private hotel?" Jock asked. "I came across just now two elderly ladies who bowed to me and disappeared, and a young woman directed me to this room in a very charming way, just as if she were hostess."

"That was Miss Raynor, Pippa's governess."

In a few brief words, Orris explained her present position, and touched on Miss Lyle's extreme kindness to her.

And almost in the same words as Dugald had used, Jock made comment on her explanation.

"You certainly do fall on your feet, but you always would, wherever you go."

They were interrupted here by the doctor's arrival. Orris went out to him immediately, and Jock paced up and down the room with knitted brow and brooding eyes.

She was a long time away. The doctor came downstairs at last. Jock heard their murmuring voices in the hall, and then he opened the door, as the doctor's car moved swiftly off down the drive.

Orris had disappeared, but in a few moments, he found her. She had turned aside into her morning-room, and, throwing herself in a chair by her writing-table, had bowed her head in her hands and was weeping bitterly.

[Illustration: For a moment he looked at the bowed figure, and longed to kneel down by her side. _Jock's Inheritance]_]

For one moment Jock's lips paled. Had the child already passed away from them? He made a quick step forward, and Orris looked up.

"Oh," she sobbed, "it's the joy—the relief! He says she has turned the corner—she is going to be spared to us."

"Thank God!" murmured Jock with real feeling. For a moment he looked at the bowed figure, and longed to kneel down by her side and comfort her in his own way, but there was some nice instinct within him that forbade him, at this juncture, to intrude himself and his desires upon her notice. So he smothered his feelings, and spoke in a peculiarly quiet grave tone. "I think I'll go and see your coachman's wife, and then, later on, perhaps the Elf would like to see me again. I won't excite her; I know how quiet she'll have to be kept."

Orris held out her hand to him.

"Forgive me for giving way like this. It has been such a strain. Yes, do go and fix up something with Mrs. Perkins. I must go up to Pippa again."

She rose and left the room, and Jock strode out of the house and down the drive on his errand.

For the next few days, Jock haunted Cudweed Chase. But so quiet and self-controlled was he, that Orris began to wonder whether his liking for her had died a natural death. He, as well as she, seemed entirely absorbed in the small invalid.

And as Pippa came back to them again, and day by day grew brighter and stronger, she insisted upon monopolizing Jock's society. She grew fretful if he was out of the sick-room for long at a time, and at length Orris began to protest.

"We are spoiling her," she said to him one afternoon, when he had announced his intention of going out fishing, and the laments of Pippa had made him give up the idea. "She is well enough now to be reasonable; you are making her selfish, and that will not make for her happiness."

"I shall not be here much longer," he replied, "so she can have as much of me as she wants."

The next day, after lunch, Orris asked Jock if he would like a ride with her.

"I am leaving Miss Raynor with Pippa for the afternoon. It will be our only opportunity if you leave us to-morrow."

Jock gave her such a look that Orris almost repented of her proposal, but she had felt sorry for him passing all his days indoors, and wanted to show him a little of their beautiful country. It was the first time Jock had seen Orris on horseback; he could not but help admire the ease and grace with which she sat her horse.

His spirits rose as they cantered down the drive and met the tang of the salt sea breeze full in their faces.

"This is a treat which I did not expect," he said to her. "I have been very good, have I not? We have both kept each other at arms' length, and the little Elf has taken all our time and thoughts. But now, as you say, this is our only opportunity for a quiet talk, you may be sure I will make full use of it."

Orris was silent for a moment, then she said pleasantly:

"Do. Tell me all about Veddon Weal. How are the Prestons? And the Misses Dashwood? And is Mr. Dane getting on with the villagers? Tell me all your local gossip. I shall love to hear it."

He fell in with her mood, and gave her details of every one and everything in his neighbourhood. Then he asked lightly:

"And when are you coming back to us?"

"Oh, I am settling in here very comfortably," said Orris. "I am really interested in Miss Lyle's philanthropy. I wish you could have met her. She is my ideal of what a rich woman should be. Just a steward—nothing more or less."

"It seems a most strange coincidence," said Jock slowly, "that you and I should be led into the same groove, though under utterly different conditions. I won't say it's extraordinary, because it has all been arranged, I believe, for a purpose. Dane and I have been putting our heads together, and the result is that I am not going to rebuild the west wing. I shall have the ground cleared, but in the big meadow below the kitchen gardens, I am building a roomy house in cottage style. Dane came from an East-End parish, and is great friends with his Vicar there. Relays of tired and delicate East-Enders are to be sent down for rest and change, and Miss Dashwood is going to be secretary and treasurer, and work it in conjunction with a matron who will be in charge. It's just a sop to Dane—and a pleasant job for Miss Dashwood, who thirsts for a little more occupation." Jock added this last sentence a little awkwardly, for Orris's glowing radiant face turned towards him embarrassed him.

"Oh, Jock," she said, "how delightful! It's the first bit of light and comfort that has come to me since that awful fire. You are bringing good out of evil."

"Let us dismount," he said suddenly, "and look at the view."

They were on high ground; a sloping bit of rough moor led to the edge of the cliffs; beyond was the blue ocean. A fleet of fishing boats were putting out to sea, and the sun was already slowly disappearing below the horizon, but it was sending its rosy rays across the water, and Orris drew a long breath of pleasure and appreciation as she watched it.

She was ready to fall in with Jock's suggestion. He tethered the horses to some iron railings, and then found a pile of granite slabs upon which they sat, facing the sea.

"You haven't answered my question yet," he said, laying his right hand over one of hers as he spoke. "When are you coming back to us?"

Orris could not answer.

"You'll never get away from me," Jock went on. "I'm positive that we are two souls who are meant to cleave together eternally, and you must know it too by this time. I have been getting the house ready for you as fast as I can; and I have a surprise for Pippa in it. I have waited patiently for your time, and now it has come. You are not going to send me home an unhappy man, are you?"

Orris looked up at him serenely, though her heart was throbbing painfully.

"But what is it that you want?" she asked. "I cannot come back to the Farm—my work is over at Pinestones."

"Your work at Pinestones is not begun. You know what I want, and the work there is to do there. You have to take rather an uncouth rough sort of a fellow, and mould him into a model husband. Oh, Orris, don't let us beat about the bush any longer. Put your dear hand in mine, and tell me that you'll come to me."

Orris did not move. She was gazing out over the sea. She was going to capitulate—she had no doubt about her feelings by this time—but she hesitated. Jock saw the hesitation. He took her hands in his, and made her look at him.

"Now then, my heart's dearest," he said, "be straight and true—you can be no other. Tell me that you'll be mine."

"I will."

The words were soberly uttered: they had as solemn a ring about them as if uttered in the marriage service.

And then Jock's arms were about her and their lips met.

It was some minutes after that, releasing herself from his embrace, she said a little playfully: "And you have never asked if I love you?"

"I don't need to," he said. "I'm not much to love, but my love for you is big enough for us both."

"Oh, Jock, dear Jock!"

Happy tears rose to Orris's eyes.

"Do you know what you are to me?" she said. "A tower of strength, a modern knight of chivalry, one whom I know I could test to the uttermost and who would never fail me. I think, of all combinations, the equal mixture of strength and gentleness is what I admire most, and these are what you possess."

"Spare my blushes," said Jock, and he had reddened slightly under his tanned skin, but the joyous light in his eyes deepened into a steady glow at her words.

They sat on there, oblivious of time, until the last golden rays of the sun had died away, and then in the dusky twilight they rode home together.

"You must let me tell the Elf the good news," said Jock, as they entered the house.

"Yes," assented Orris; "it will please her."

So Jock went upstairs, and found Pippa sitting up amongst her pillows with a small white face and big eyes.

She smiled her sunny smile when she saw him. "I've been wissing you were here," she assured him.

Then, as he stooped and gave her a kiss, she seized his hand.

"Master Jock, Miss Raynor says you're going away. You aren't, are you? I reely won't get well if you do—I know I won't! And I do want you to see me ride my pony."

"I promise you I shall do that one day."

Miss Raynor slipped out of the room.

Jock drew a long breath.

"Ah!" he said. "Now we're alone, I can tell you a secret. It's a stupendous one. I hope your eyes won't fall out of your head. I'm hurrying back to get Pinestones made clean and smart for you and Aunt Ollie. This is a very nice house, but it's not nearly so nice as mine. The dolls' house is fresh with paint and papering, and waiting for you to come to it. The powder-room holds a surprise for you. And I think there will be a little brown pony with a very long tail champing his hay in the stables, and waiting for a little Elf to ride him."

Pippa clapped her thin little hands.

"Are we going to live with you?" she asked.

"I hope you are. I've asked Aunt Ollie, and she has said 'yes.' We shall have to go to church first, so make haste and get well, for we shall want you there."

"Oh, Master Jock!" Pippa's eyes were dancing with joy. "And there'll be no Snuffy to be cross and turn us out; and I'll be able to go into the powder-room whenever I like. And you'll swing and see-saw me, and we'll both do lots of fun togever!"

"Lots," said Jock cheerfully. "But it's all a secret at present, remember. Only Aunt Ollie and you and I can talk about it in whispers."

Pippa nodded. This was after her own heart.

When Orris opened the door, two radiant faces were turned towards her.

"Aunt Ollie, Master Jock is going to belong to us. He's told me so," Pippa cried exultantly.

"I think it will be the other way about," said Orris, smiling.

And Jock, putting his hand on her shoulder, said:

"We're going to be one happy family; and if Pippa were only well enough, she and I would have a mad gambol together at the very thought of it. But we'll wait to have our rejoicings later, won't we, little Elf?"

"When my legs have left off shaking," said Pippa.

And then Orris sat down by the bed and drew her into her arms.

"We must thank God, darling, that He has made you better."

"Yes," responded Pippa, her eyes fixed on Jock's happy face; "and I'll thank God for making Master Jock come to us, for I was tired of waiting for him."