Chapter VII: "WHAT are you doing here, you gipsies?"

Lucy Pemberton and I were hurrying to Greystone Station, hoping to get back to King's Court without being seen by Norman and Stephen. They had ridden over early, not wishing to go by train. We girls had chosen the latter mode of conveyance, and had reached Greystone before them, though we started later. From a quiet corner, we had heard all that had passed during the examination, and thought of arriving at home before the young men, but were discovered on the road to the station.

"We had shopping to do, and thought we would come and complete it during your absence," said I, boldly, whilst Lucy did not answer, but blushed quite guiltily.

"Where are your purchases?" demanded Stephen.

"Do ladies usually carry home their parcels?" asked Lucy, recovering her self-possession. "Ours, no doubt, await us at the station."

"Confess, now. You spent five minutes in a shop, buying twopenny worth of Berlin wool, and the rest of the time in the court-house. You could not stay quietly at home, dear, loving hearts," said Norman, his face aglow with pleasure as he bent towards Lucy.

I answered, "If I am as anxious about my brother's well-being as he has always been to bring me good tidings, surely I have no need to be ashamed."

"Right, dearest," whispered Stephen; and Norman asked, "And you, Lucy?"

"Do you think I could bear suspense better than Berty where you were concerned, Norman?" was her answer; but she added, as if fearful of appearing less than quite candid, "We really did some shopping here."

"The results will be found at the station, doubtless."

"Indeed they will, Norman; though we did not finish our buying to-day. So many things are wanted for Christmas, you know."

"You will buy the rest on Thursday, will you not, Lucy?"

"Norman, how did you know?"

My brother's merry laugh disconcerted Lucy a little; but he became grave in a moment, and said:

"My darling, do I know your tender nature so little as not to guess that if it were impossible for you to remain at home to-day, it will be no less so on Thursday? Suppose, now, the worst were to come, and I were actually sentenced to imprisonment, would you wait for me, Lucy?"

Would she wait? Aye, a lifetime if need were; and though she did not say these words, her look was enough for Norman.

At the station I pointed triumphantly to a couple of bales containing pieces of red flannel for rheumatic old folk at Overford, striped shirting for working men, and sundry clothing materials for bestowal on families where the children were out of proportion to the income.

Norman poked holes in the papers to verify my list, and I added triumphantly, "There are blankets besides; but we shall not require your aid in seeing to our purchases, as they do not go to King's Court under our personal charge. They will be delivered at the house."

We were complimented on our marketing, and a hope expressed that our shopping might always be as expeditiously performed and to equally good purpose.

We bent in acknowledgment of the compliment, and then I was going to make some allusion to what had passed during the examination before the justices; but Norman stopped me.

"Berty, dear," he said, "we will say no more about the matter until Thursday. I have told all, and no one credits me with anything worse than a rash act, of which I am now ashamed. Let us be as happy as we can. Whatever comes, I shall have strength to bear it."

He looked at Lucy, pressing more closely the little hand which rested confidingly in his, and receiving a responsive pressure.

Look and clasp said more than words. They meant from him, "You are mine, whether in prosperity or adversity." And hers replied, "Yours in life and till death."