Chapter VIII

MAJOR CARUTH was mistaken in supposing that his friend Captain Tyson had no visit to pay before joining him at Fernsclough, and the latter did not arrive until a day later than the one originally fixed when they parted.

"I was obliged to run over to my sister's, and have a look at her and her belongings, though I did not stay longer than I could help. They will see enough of me when I settle down, as our homes will be near together," said the captain, in explanation of his tardy arrival.

Mrs. Caruth was charmed with her son's friend, and, as the days passed, felt how pleasant it would be if Alec could induce him to extend his visit until after the New Year.

"I wish I could stay; many thanks to you for asking me," he replied; "but Kate, my sister, made me promise to go back for the Christmas doings at her house. If only—"

Here Captain Tyson paused, and fell into a species of brown study, the purport of which he did not reveal. This was at breakfast, and an hour later he said to his friend—

"Caruth, I wish you would go with me to my sister's for a single night. I have a special reason for asking this, and I think Mrs. Caruth will spare you to me for so long."

"Do you mean to go to-day?" asked the major.

"Well, yes; it only wants a week to Christmas, and things must be arranged soon, you understand."

Major Caruth did not understand, but was quite willing to take everything for granted and Captain Tyson, having announced that no one ever came at a wrong time whom he invited to Kate's house, and that he would in any case "wire" from the station, so that she might not be taken by surprise, went off with his friend by the 2.30 train.

It was only after they were gone past recall that Mrs. Caruth remembered she was quite ignorant as to her son's destination. Captain Tyson had neither mentioned his sister's surname nor the place of her abode; but she said to herself, "It is only for a night; Alec will be home to-morrow." And made herself contented in the meanwhile.

It was growing dusk as Major Caruth and his friend alighted at the door of a beautiful country house. It stood hospitably open, having been flung wide at the sound of approaching wheels. There was a rosy glow from within, which came from a blazing fire in the wide hall, where space, warmth, and comfort were well combined. A tall, graceful woman stood near the doorway, extending welcoming hands to the newly arrived guests.

"Kate," said Captain Tyson, "this is my good friend and wise mentor, Major Caruth, of whom you have heard before. Caruth, this is my sister Kate, otherwise Mrs. Ross; and here come the children to welcome Uncle Jack."

Turning aside from the elders after this introduction, Captain Tyson seized the smaller girl of the two and lifted her for a kiss, then exchanged her for the other, whom he mounted on his shoulder amid a burst of merry laughter from the pair of little people. There was another female figure visible, but in shadow, and with her head turned from the door, as the gentlemen entered.

"I am sorry my husband will not be in yet," said Mrs. Ross. "He made an appointment before my brother's telegram came, and was obliged to keep it; but he will be here in good time for dinner. I have, however, a friend and guest, whom you, I think, will be glad to see."

Mrs. Ross advanced, the figure turned towards her and her companion, and Major Caruth clasped the extended hand of Joyce Mirlees.

"Joyce!" he exclaimed. "Can it be you? This is indeed an unexpected pleasure. Did Tyson know?"

Joyce's face was radiant, as she looked with frank gladness at her old friend, who still retained her hand in his.

"Yes, it is I, Alec," she said; "and Captain Tyson planned this surprise for you. When he was here lately, he talked of you and of his intended visit to Fernsclough. Then, naturally, it came out that his friend Major Caruth, and the friend of my whole life, were one and the same person. He had a great deal to say about you, and I—you may imagine how glad I was to tell him that for years you had been my dear father's pupil and my own true friend always."

Joyce looked bravely up as she spoke. Her manner was frank and unrestrained, like that of a sister meeting a dear brother after years of absence.

Perhaps Major Caruth would have liked to see more of self-consciousness about the girl, and signs of still deeper feeling.

Outwardly, the strong man and brave soldier showed more emotion than Joyce did, for he kept her hand in his, and his voice trembled as he said—

"I little guessed what was before me when I left home to-day, or how much I should owe to my friend Tyson before the close of it."

"I dragged him off here at a moment's notice, Miss Mirlees," said Captain Tyson, pausing from a frantic race round the hall, in which he was already indulging with his small nieces. "You and my sister must explain to him one special object I had in bringing him here."

Major Caruth heard the explanation in due time, but not at that moment, for Mrs. Ross, on hospitable thoughts intent, was offering tea; and afterwards the gentlemen went to their rooms to dress for dinner.

Major Caruth remembered Mrs. Ross's allusion to Joyce as her "friend and guest."

"The holidays have begun," he thought, "and the governess is gone for awhile. The friend remains. How few women would have drawn such a distinction as Mrs. Ross did by the use of those words!"

Before bedtime, Major Caruth understood his friend's object in bringing him to Springfield Park in such haste. Mrs. Ross explained it on his behalf.

"My brother has told me of your kind wish that he should spend Christmas at Fernsclough. Mrs. Caruth had previously invited Joyce, who was pledged to remain here. Yet I hope and believe we should all be happier if under one roof than we could be if divided. My brother thinks that he and you might persuade Mrs. Caruth to come to us; but if you think it necessary, I will go to Fernsclough and unite my solicitations to yours—that is always supposing you are willing to join our Christmas gathering here."

Major Caruth looked for one instant inquiringly at Joyce. Her answering glance was eloquent enough to satisfy him, and he at once said to Mrs. Ross, "It will give me the greatest possible pleasure, and I do not think you will need to travel to Fernsclough to persuade my mother also to accept your kind invitation."

So Major Caruth returned home on the following day, carrying a pleasant surprise to his mother. He also conveyed a considerable addition to his luggage in the shape of Joyce's Christmas gifts for Welton friends.

One packet she retained.

"This is for Mrs. Caruth; I shall put it on the Christmas-tree for her, instead of sending it now."

"And mine, Joyce. Where is it? I see nothing for me."

"People are not supposed to ask beforehand, or to be told what they may expect when the tree is lighted," she answered, with a laugh and a blush.

"I know what I expect, and I shall certainly ask for it," he said; "but I will not be more selfish than others. I will wait till Christmas Day for my present, Joyce. Good-bye for so long, dear Joyce."

"We shall lose Miss Mirlees," said Mr. Ross, oracularly. "Katie, Katie, who would have dreamed that you would develop a taste for match-making."

This to his wife.

"Nor have I, dear. If a match should come about, such as you suggest, it was virtually made before you and I ever heard the names of Alec Caruth and Joyce Mirlees."

Of course, Mrs. Caruth accepted the invitation to Springfield Park, and equally of course the gathering there was a most delightful one.

If Alec Caruth did not find a present from his former child-friend beneath the spreading boughs of the lighted Christmas-tree, he was not wholly discontented. Whilst others were admiring their gifts, he managed to whisper a demand for one which was more precious in his eyes than all beside.

"You know what I want, dear Joyce," he pleaded. "Not a gift, only a fair exchange. One true heart in return for another. You have mine. You have had it for years, and you—" He looked inquiringly.

"I am afraid I have none to give you in return," she whispered.

A great fear filled his heart for a moment, but once more Alec Caruth looked at Joyce's blushing face and read the true answer to his petition.

"I believe you say this because, dear Joyce, it was mine already. Tell me, darling, am I right?"

But Joyce did not speak. Nevertheless, Alec was content, and a little later, he told his mother that Joyce had given him the best of Christmas presents—her own sweet self.

So the little Rosses lost their former maid and present governess, but kept always their friend in her who soon became Joyce Caruth.

On the Christmas-tree at Springfield that year, Joyce found the ring that Adelaide had offered her on her twenty-first birthday. The girl sent it to be placed there, and Joyce gladly accepted what she felt to be a token of true cousinly love, and told her so.

In after days, when the once penniless niece was a happy wife, Mrs. Walter Evans was heard to declare that Joyce had improved wonderfully. But then, in her eyes, wealth and position were the greatest of all claims to respect. Without these all other excellences were as nothing. No need to tell the names of the many who rejoiced to see the happiness of her who, as Joyce Mirlees, had tried to make others happy, or to say that none of these were forgotten by Joyce Caruth.

Beneath her roof, Captain Tyson met his fate, in the person of Adelaide Evans, and there, too, Mr. Evans is a frequent guest.

"To think that you should choose one who for awhile was 'only a servant,'" said Joyce to her husband, some time after their marriage.

"Dearest," he answered, "that word servant always brings pleasant thoughts to my mind. As a soldier, I was ever proud to call myself the servant of Queen and country; but I rejoice more when I think of Him who took upon Himself the form of a servant, and came on earth, not to be ministered unto, but to minister. Faithful service to an earthly master is right honourable, but to be the faithful, humble servant of God is far better than to be a king amongst men. May it be your lot and mine, dear Joyce, thus to serve!"

And with Christmas bells bringing to mind thoughts of the first Christmas morning, Joyce whispered "Amen."

THE END.