CHAPTER XX
I PLAY "THREE'S COMPANY"
I met Rhoda Polly by arrangement made openly on a post card, which couldbe discussed in conclave and passed from hand to hand. I should bewalking over to the restaurant of Mere Felix, and as the river Durancewas in flood it might be worth while seeing. The day I mentioned,Saturday, was generally chosen by Hannah and Liz for their privateoutings, and I judged that the project would be unlikely to interestthem in any case, not even if the Durance swept the plain, so long asthe railway to Aramon remained open to them, by which to bring hometheir finery. Hugh was back with his father in the works, and Mrs.Deventer might be counted a fixture at the Chateau Schneider.
Remained, therefore, only Rhoda Polly, but would Rhoda Polly come? Thatwould depend on how Hugh Deventer had kept his promise to me. Still, Ithought that in any case, there being no jealousy in the matter, I couldtrust Rhoda Polly's curiosity in the matter of Jeanne Felix. It must beadmitted that in taking her over to the Restaurant of Sambre-et-Meuse Iwas sailing very near indeed to the wind. For though my conscience (suchas it was) remained clear of any overact of love-making with regard toRhoda Polly, it was by no means the same when I came to review mydealings with Jeanne. Not that I mean for a moment that Jeanne thoughtanything of the matter, or cherished any deep feelings for me. She wasno daughter of the sainted bourgeoisie. She was frankly of the people,and had not been educated out of her sphere. She was just a simple frankgirl, such as one might find by Dee or Nithwater, not ignorant of theworld, nor of the designs of man, and for a French girl wonderfullycapable of looking after herself.
Still, whether Jeanne was capable of recognising in Rhoda Polly a merecomrade of mine after the manner of the English, was a problem whichcould only be solved by experiment.
Rhoda Polly met me at the corner of the garden of the Chateau Schneiderabout half-past ten of that Saturday morning. The works were crashingaway behind, and the new big gun factory especially was noisy withroaring blast furnaces and spitting jets of white steam.
We did not shake hands nor make any demonstration beyond the lifting ofa hat on my part and a slight nod on Rhoda Polly's. We might have beenthe merest acquaintances, yet no sooner were we alongside each other,walking on the same path, than the old understanding, trustful andconfident, took hold of us. The spring on the slopes of the Rhone andthe Durance comes early, and is the fairest time of the year. On thesandy tracts between the rivers we passed a world of fine things. Thewhole peninsula, almost correctly V-shaped, had been so often overflowedby the turbulent Durance that the permanent shrubs, the bushes of broom,thyme, and cistus had ascended the little rocky knolls which could keeptheir heads above water. But where our path wound was a delightfulwilderness of alternate sun and shadow, black umbrageous stone pines,laurel, myrtle, and clove, planted out as in a nursery garden, yet allwild, the seeds brought down by the river, and now (like Shem and hisbrothers scattering from Ararat) true Children of the Flood.
On the way Rhoda Polly ran hither and thither gathering flowers. With usat Aramon the spring is well under way before the autumn flowers aretired of blooming. She gathered purple colt's-foot and orchis, yellowiris and goats' honeysuckle. Troops of butterflies attended us,especially the Red Admiral and the swift poising Humming Bird Moth, someof them so large as to look like the bird itself. Even Bates on hisbeloved Amazon was deceived by it, as I took care to tell Rhoda Polly.
We arrived at the edge of the crossing, and from the bank I shouted forJeanne to take us over. She came down tall and nonchalant, an oar overher shoulder, unlocked the padlock and rowed unconcernedly across. Shestood to help Rhoda Polly in, and then handed me the bow oar as was ourhabit like one long accustomed to such visits. I delayed introductionstill we had reached the farther side. Rhoda Polly gave Jeanne her handwith the swift grip of liking. But I saw a glow in Jeanne's eyes as shetook the oar away from me and marched with them both over her shoulderto the house.
"Mademoiselle Deventer, mother," she cried, "come to visit us. Monsieurhas brought her--so kind of Monsieur!"
And Jeanne vanished round the corner with a kind of swirl of her prettyfigure, the oar-blades swooping perilously after her.
"I say," whispered Rhoda Polly, "that girl has never worn stays. Did yousee her waist and hips when she turned--a full half circle? None of us,pinched-up wretches that we are, could do that! It was beautiful, thepoetry of motion."
I did not say so aloud, but I knew that it was something quite differenton Jeanne's part--in fact, a little fling of temper. And with thethought of opening out the matter of Alida on the way home, I began towish that Rhoda Polly and I had taken another road than that which ledto the riverside hostelry of the Sambre-et-Meuse.
Mere Felix was clamorous with welcomes, smiling heartsomely upon thedaughter of the powerful manager of her husband's works, and quitewilling to accept me as an elderly relative placed in charge of theouting. In which she made mistake, for nothing is more certain that allsuch expeditions were conducted according to the sole will of RhodaPolly.
We arranged for lunch to be served under the _tonnelle_ overlooking theriver, and I stayed in the kitchen along with Mere Felix and themoon-faced maid-of-all-work. It was in my mind that perhaps Rhoda Pollymight strike up one of her friendships with Jeanne, or at least dosomething to explain away the rather strained situation. Nor did I seemto be altogether wrong, for presently I saw the two girls amicablyputting a boat to rights after a night's fishing in the flooded river.They were too distant for me to gather anything from their behaviour toone another. But presently it was evident that Rhoda Polly was talkingin her wild harum-scarum fashion, for Jeanne threw back her headsuddenly with a tinkle of laughter and a flash of brown throat showingpleasantly under a scarlet kerchief. I said in my heart--so vain andfoolish was I--that the battle was to the cunning, and I thought nosmall potatoes of myself at that moment.
I soon found, however, that Jeanne, though she might laugh at RhodaPolly's freely expressed yarns, had no intention of forgiving me. IfRhoda Polly was heart-free, that was certainly not my fault.
So when they came back to the house I tried in vain to inveigle Jeannebehind the barns where the fish-ponds lay safe and solitary, so that Imight explain at my leisure. But it was "Monsieur is too good, but apoor girl has her work to do. _She_ has no time to go off sightseeing ofa forenoon even with so charming a cicerone as Monsieur!"
The little vixen! She tossed her head as she said it, and I declare thather small white teeth snapped together like a rat-trap. When I spoke toher after this, she answered me only with the distant civility of awell-trained servitor: "What can I do for Monsieur? If Monsieur willonly take the trouble to rest himself in the _salle_ while I sendBabette to attend to his wants!" (Babette was the moon-faced, ratherbesmutted scullion of the kitchen and the courtyard.)
"Why, Jeanne," I cried, seeing that Rhoda Polly was at a safe distancelearning the receipt for some sauce or dish from the Mere Felix,"Jeanne, why do you treat me like this? Are we not old comrades? Do youremember the day among the reeds after the boat went down and we had totramp all the way home barefoot? I wrapped your feet in ourhandkerchiefs, Jeanne, because you had lost your shoes and stockings inthe boat."
"I do not know to what Monsieur is good enough to refer. I think thatthe walk in the sun from Chateau Schneider must have made Monsieur alittle light-headed!"
Of course if I had been wiser or older I would have said nothing more,and left Time to do his own perfect work. But I could not be content. Iforgot all about Alida, and it seemed to me at that moment that nothingelse mattered so long as Jeanne Felix remained friends with me. I havealways been like that, and I cannot say that the business has worked outbadly in the long run. No matter what a tangled web I wove, I alwaysmanaged in the end to retain the good will of my dear lost loves, evenwhen the losing was entirely my fault.
The thought that was most prominent in my own mind at that moment washow pleasant it would be to obey the imperious rule of Alida thePrincess on the sunny sl
opes below St. Andre, without prejudice to thecharming boy-and-girl comradeship I enjoyed with Rhoda Polly on thewalks and river promenades of Aramon-les-Ateliers--neither of these tointerfere in the least with the sweetness of Jeanne's breath and thetouch of her surrendered lips in the bosky thickets along the Durance.
The young male of twenty-one has a heart which can beat for considerablymore than one. At least so it was in my time.
It surprised me, and I must admit rather shocked me, when Jeanne of allgirls refused to lend herself to any such combination. I might havedotted the twin rivers with my loves and Rhoda Polly would not havecared, but such conduct from Jeanne Felix I could only look upon ashighly unsatisfactory. I had never expected it of Jeanne. It would teachme to walk very warily in the matter of Alida. Foolish Jeanne, thus tohave killed the pure flower of candour in my bosom!
I made a last appeal to her, which to myself seemed irresistible. Therewas (I averred) a relationship in the world which might be called realbrother-and-sisterhood, a fraternity of the spirit. This existed betweenRhoda Polly and myself. We had always been conscious of it. When weplayed in pinafores in the dust we chose to be together, and left theothers to their noisier sports. Afterwards we studied the same subjectsat college--she at Selborne, I at St. Andre. We compared notesafterwards. We talked, but Jeanne must not think that there was more inthe business than that. I could, would, must, and did assure her thatthe whole matter began and ended in a close spiritual brotherhood----
"Spiritual fiddlestick!" burst out Jeanne, turning fiercely upon me."Have you ever kissed her?"
Now I could lie upon occasion to oblige a lady, but the question wasshot out at me so unexpectedly that my lips moved but I spake not.
Jeanne eyed me one instant, with a length, breadth, and depth ofcontempt which cut to the quick even my self-conceit, at that time ayoung and exceedingly healthy growth. Then without a word she turned onher heel and went into the house. We saw no more of her that day. Andwhen Rhoda Polly asked after her to say good-bye as we were leaving, theMere Felix, after taking counsel with a casual stable-boy, informed usthat Jeanne had rowed away up the river to visit a friend whose fatherkept a _pepiniere_ or nursery of young trees at Cabannes farther up theDurance. Yes, Jeanne was often there. She and Blanche Eymard had been atschool together. It was an old friendship. Besides, there was morecompany and gaiety at Cabannes--what would you, maids are but youngonce, and with a daughter so "sage" as Jeanne--why, Pere Felix and shenever disquieted themselves for a moment. She sometimes stayed a week ora fortnight, for she loved the culture of the young trees and the flowerseeds. The work at the _pepiniere_ was like a play to her with so manyyoung people about her!