The Village by the River | Page 5

due inspection, they proved good
enough for him.
"We're not used to grand folk," she said, a trifle awed by the sight of
the portmanteau. "I cooked for a plain family before I married my John,
and----"
"Then it's certain that you can cook for me; I'm not nearly so much
trouble as a plain family," said her visitor, laughing. "I'll carry up my
things if you'll show me the way, for I shall go no further than this
to-night. I dare say you can give me some tea, and then I'll go out and
order in some food."
"I dare say you eat hearty, sir; or we've some fine new-laid eggs,"
suggested Mrs. Macdonald.
"The very thing. You can't get such a thing in London; the youngest
new-laid egg is about a month old, I fancy. Thank you," (with a glance
round the dimity-curtained room, fragrant with lavender); "I shall be as
happy as a king."

When her lodger was safely established at his evening meal, and Mrs.
Macdonald was satisfied that she could provide nothing more for his
comfort, she went upstairs to tidy his room, shaking her head a little
over the various things that littered the floor and table.
"He's not so tidy as my John, but he's not got his years over his head,"
she said, as she closed the portmanteau and shoved it towards the
dressing-room table.
As she did so the name on the label caught her eye, she could not help
reading it; and then drew in her breath with a sharp exclamation of
surprise. The next instant she hurried softly but quickly down the stairs,
took her astonished helpmeet by the arm, and dragged him into the
orchard, closing the kitchen door behind her.
"John!" she said, "who do you think has come to us? Who is it that has
come quite humble like for shelter under our roof this night?"
In her eagerness to extract an answer she pinched the arm she held a
little.
"It's not a riddle you're asking me?" said John, withdrawing himself a
pace.
"No, no, man! it's the young squire himself, for sure. Paul Lessing is on
his portmanter," she said looking round, for fear she should be
overheard by a neighbour. The news must be digested.
CHAPTER II.
AN UNLOOKED-FOR INHERITANCE.
A week before, Paul Lessing and his only sister Sally had started for a
three week's tour on the continent, with as light-hearted a sense of
enjoyment as any boy or girl home for the summer vacation. They were
orphans, with only each other to care for; and Paul had not feared to
take up some of their slender capital to enable his sister to complete her
college course at Girton. If she had to earn her own living, she should

at least have the best education that money could give; and Sally had
made the best use of her opportunity. Her name was high in the honour
list, and Paul decreed that, before any plans were discussed for her
future, they should dedicate a certain sum to a foreign tour.
"It will be a good investment, Sally. You are looking pale after all your
work. We will make no definite plan; it's distance that swallows up the
money, so we'll start off for Brussels, and move on when we feel
inclined, possibly to the Rhine, and so to Heidelberg." And Sally, in the
joyousness of her mood, felt that all places would be alike delightful in
the company of her brother.
Two days later found the brother and sister seated in the garden of the
café that adjoins the park at Brussels. Even now, at eight o'clock in the
evening, it was exceedingly hot, and the boughs of the trees overhead,
through which here and there a star glimmered, were absolutely
motionless. The band which played was the best string-band in
Brussels, attracting a great throng of listeners; and every table around
them had its complement of guests; and the civil waiters who flitted
hither and thither had almost more than they could do to keep the tables
properly served. Paul was smoking and reading the paper, but Sally
needed no better amusement than to watch the various groups about her,
and to listen to the exquisite playing of the band.
"We want something like this in England, Paul," she said, laying a hand
on his arm--"lots of places like this out-of-doors in the fresh air, under
the stars and trees, where people can go and drink their tea or coffee,
and listen to music that must refine them whilst they listen."
Paul laid by his paper and laughed. "Yes," he said, "and when I get into
Parliament--if ever--I will do my utmost to make some of our wealthy
citizens disgorge a part of