The Three Brides | Page 3

and as the newcomer sank into the chair he offered--
"My dear, you are sadly knocked up! You were hardly fit to come."
"Thank you, I am quite well," answered the fagged timid voice.
"Hark!" as the crash of a peal of bells came up. "Dear child, you will
like to rest before any fresh introductions. You shall go to your room
and have some tea there."
"Thank you."
"Charlie, call Susan.--She is my boys' old nurse, now mine. Only tell
me you have good accounts from my boy Miles."
"Oh yes;" and the hand tightly clasped the closely-written letter for
which the mother's eyes felt hungry. "He sent you his love, and he will
write to you next time. He was so busy, his first lieutenant was down in
fever."

"Where was he?"
"Off Zanzibar--otherwise the crew was healthy--the 12th of August,"
she answered, squeezing out the sentences as if constrained by the
mother's anxious gaze.
"And he was quite well when you parted with him?"
"Quite."
"Ah! you nursed my boy, and we must nurse you for him."
"Thank you, I am quite well." But she bit her lip, and spoke
constrainedly, as if too shy and reserved to give way to the rush of
emotion; but the coldness pained Mrs. Poynsett, whose expansiveness
was easily checked; and a brief silence was followed by Charlie's return
to report that he could not find nurse, and thought she was out with the
other servants, watching for the arrival; in another moment, the
approaching cheers caused him to rush out; and after many more noises,
showing the excitement of the multitude and the advance of the bridal
pair, during which Mrs. Poynsett lay with deepening colour and clasped
hands, her nostrils dilating with anxiety and suppressed eagerness,
there entered a tall, dark, sunburnt man bringing on his arm a little, trim,
upright, girlish figure; and bending down, he exclaimed, "There,
mother, I've brought her--here's your daughter!"
Two little gloved hands were put into hers, and a kiss exchanged, while
Raymond anxiously inquired for his mother's health; and she broke in
by saying, "And here is Anne--Miles's Anne, just arrived."
"Ah, I did not see you in the dark," said Raymond. "There, Cecil, is a
sister for you--you never had one."
Cecil was readier with greeting hand and cheek than was Anne, but at
the same moment the tea equipage was brought in, and Cecil, quite
naturally, and as a matter of course, began to preside over the low table,
while Raymond took his accustomed chair on the further side of his
mother's sofa, where he could lean over the arm and study her

countenance, while she fondled the hand that he had hung over the back.
He was describing the welcome at the station, and all through the
village--the triumphal arches and shouts.
"But how they did miss you, mother," said Charlie. "Old Gurnet wrung
my hand in tears as he said, 'Yes, sir, 'tis very fine, but it beats the heart
out of it that madam bain't here to see.'"
"Good old Gurnet!" responded Raymond. "They are famously loyal.
The J. C. P. crowned all above all the Cs and Rs, I was happy to see."
"J. was for Julius--not Julia," said the mother.
"No; J. H. C. and R. C. had a separate device of roses all to themselves.
Hark! is that a cheer beginning again? Had we not better go into the
drawing-room, mother? it will be so many for you all together."
"Oh no, I must see you all."
The brothers hurried out with their welcome; and in another minute, a
plump soft cheek was pressed to the mother's, devouring kisses were
hailed on her, and a fuller sweeter tone than had yet been heard
answered the welcome.
"Thank you. So kind! Here's Julius! I'll not be in your way."
"Dearest mother, how is it with you?" as her son embraced her. "Rose
has been longing to be with you."
"And we've all come together! How delicious!" cried Rosamond,
enfolding Anne in her embrace; "I didn't know you were come!--See,
Julius!"
But as Julius turned, a startled look came over Anne's face; and she
turned so white, that Rosamond exclaimed, "My dear--what--she's
faint!" And while Cecil stood looking puzzled, Rosamond had her arm
round the trembling form, and disappeared with her, guided and
assisted by Nurse Susan.

"Isn't she--?" exclaimed Julius, in a voice of triumph that made all
smile.
"Full of sweet kindness," said Mrs. Poynsett; "but I have only seen and
heard her yet, my dear Julius. Susan will take her to her room-- my old
one."
"Oh, thank you, mother," said Julius, "but I hardly like that; it seems
like your giving it up."
"On the contrary, it proves that I do not give it up,