appeared in Beddgelert a phenomenon which rejoiced some hearts,
but perturbed also the spirits not only of the Oxford "philanderers,"
but those of Elsley Vavasour, and, what is more, of Valencia herself.
She was sitting one evening at the window with Lucia, looking out into
the village and the pleasure-grounds before the hotel. They were both
laughing and chatting over the groups of tourists in their pretty Irish
way, just as they had done when they were girls; for Lucia's heart was
expanding under the quiet beauty of the place, the freedom from
household care, and what was more, from money anxieties; for Valencia
had slipped into her hand a cheque for fifty pounds from Scoutbush, and
assured her that he would be quite angry if she spoke of paying the rent
of the rooms; Elsley was mooning down the river by himself; Claude was
entertaining his Cambridge acquaintances, as he did every night, with
his endless fun and sentiment. Gradually the tourists slipt in one by
one, as the last rays of the sun faded off the peaks of Aran, and the
mist settled down upon the dark valley beneath, and darkness fell upon
that rock-girdled paradise; when up to the door below there drove a car,
at sight whereof out rushed, not waiters only and landlady, but Mr.
Bowie himself, who helped out a very short figure in a pea-jacket and a
shining boating hat, and then a very tall one in a wild shooting-coat
and a military cap.
"My brother, and mon Saint Pere! Lucia! too delightful! This is why they
did not write." And Valencia sprang up, and was going to run down stairs
to them, when she paused at Lucia's call.
"Who have they with them'? Val,--come and look! who can it be?"
Campbell and Bowie were helping out carefully a tall man, covered up in
many wrappers. It was too dark to see the face; but a fancy crossed
Valencia's mind which made her look grave, in spite of her pleasure.
He was evidently weak, as from recent illness; for his two supporters
led him up the steps, and Scoutbush seemed full of directions and
inquiries, and fussed about with the landlady, till she was tired of
curtseying to "my lord."
A minute afterwards Bowie threw open the door grandly. "My lord, my
ladies!" and in trotted Scoutbush, and began kissing them fiercely, and
then dancing about.
"Oh my dears! Here at last--out of that horrid city of the plague! Such
sights as I have seen--" and then he paused. "Do you know, Val and
Lucia, I'm glad I've seen it: I don'
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