Chapter 4

VANISHED

He's a handsome lad, and one any woman might be proud to call her son,"
said Hester to Bedford, the stately butler, as they lingered at the hall
door one autumn morning to watch their young lady's departure on her
daily ride.

"You are right, Mrs. Hester, he's a fine lad, and yet he seems above his
place, though he does look the very picture of a lady's groom," replied
Bedford approvingly.

So he did, as he stood holding the white pony of his little mistress,
for the boy gave an air to whatever he wore and looked like a gentleman
even in his livery. The dark-blue coat with silver buttons, the silver
band about his hat, his white-topped boots and bright spurs, spotless
gloves, and tightly drawn belt were all in perfect order, all becoming,
and his handsome, dark face caused many a susceptible maid to blush and
simper as they passed him. "Gentleman Paul," as the servants called him,
was rather lofty and reserved among his mates, but they liked him
nonetheless, for Hester had dropped hints of his story and quite a
little romance had sprung up about him. He stood leaning against the
docile creature, sunk in thought, and quite unconscious of the watchers
and whisperers close by. But as Lillian appeared he woke up, attended to
his duties like a well-trained groom, and lingered over his task as if
he liked it. Down the avenue he rode behind her, but as they turned into
a shady lane Lillian beckoned, saying, in the imperious tone habitual to
her, "Ride near me. I wish to talk."

Paul obeyed, and amused her with the chat she liked till they reached a
hazel copse; here he drew rein, and, leaping down, gathered a handful of
ripe nuts for her.

"How nice. Let us rest a minute here, and while I eat a few, please pull
some of those flowers for Mamma. She likes a wild nosegay better than
any I can bring her from the garden."

Lillian ate her nuts till Paul came to her with a hatful of late flowers
and, standing by her, held the impromptu basket while she made up a
bouquet to suit her taste.

"You shall have a posy, too; I like you to wear one in your buttonhole
as the ladies' grooms do in the Park," said the child, settling a
scarlet poppy in the blue coat.

"Thanks, Miss Lillian, I'll wear your colors with all my heart,
especially today, for it is my birthday." And Paul looked up at the
blooming little face with unusual softness in his keen blue eyes.

"Is it? Why, then, you're seventeen; almost a man, aren't you?"

"Yes, thank heaven," muttered the boy, half to himself.

"I wish I was as old. I shan't be in my teens till autumn. I must give
you something, Paul, because