CHAPTER VI
FORBIDDEN FRUIT--A DIGRESSION
Lady Adela stood in the hall, engaged in her favourite pursuit ofguest-dragooning.
"Mr. Mainwaring is not coming," she announced. "Dick, Hilda, Constance,Sylvia, and Mr. Crick will go in the motor. Mr. Carmyle, will you giveme your company in the victoria?"
I smiled wanly and thanked her. Perhaps the punishment fitted thecrime, but it was none the less a heavy one. Still, one should not seekout forbidden fruit, or tamper with First Reserves.
Briefly, the facts of the case were these.
After breakfast on the day of Laxley Races--a blazing Augustmorning--Miss Constance Damer invited me to accompany her to the orchardto pick green apples.
"I have a clean white frock on," she explained, "or I would not troubleyou."
I assured her that it was no trouble.
We duly reached the orchard, where Miss Damer ate three green apples andpresented me with a fourth, which, fearing a fifth, I consumed as slowlyas possible, hoping for the sake of our first parents that Eve'shistoric indiscretion took place in late September and not early August.
Presently we came to a red-brick wall with a south aspect, upon whichthe noonday sun beat warmly. High up upon its face grew plums, fat,ripe, and yellow.
Miss Damer threw away the core of an apple and turned to me.
"I should like a plum," she said, with a seraphic smile.
The wall was fifteen feet high, and the plums grew near the top.
"I will find a ladder," I replied obediently.
"That would be bothering you too much," said the considerate Miss Damer."Can't you put your foot in that root and pull yourself up by thebranches?"
The branches, be it said, were gnarled and fragile, and lay flat againstthe wall.
"I think the ladder would be better," I repeated. "My weight might pullthe whole thing away from the wall, and then we should have a fewobservations from Lady Adela."
"You are right; that would never do," replied my right-minded companiongravely. "But I don't know where they keep the ladder, and in any caseit would probably be locked up. What a pity I have this white skirton!"
She turned away. A low tremulous sigh escaped her.
Next moment, feeling utterly and despicably weak-minded, I found myselfascending the wall, much as a blue-bottle ascends a window-pane. MissDamer stood below with clasped hands.
"Do be careful, Mr. Carmyle," she besought me. "You might hurt yourselfvery seriously if you fell. I will have that big one, please, justabove your head."
I secured the object indicated and threw it down to her. She caught itdeftly.
"There is another one on your left," continued Eve. "Can you reach it?"
I could, and did.
"I will keep this one for you, Mr. Carmyle," said my thoughtfulcompanion as she caught it. "I think I will have one more. There is aperfectly lovely one there, out to your right. You can just get it ifyou stretch. Throw it down."
The plum in question was a monster, and looked ripe to the moment. Istraddled myself athwart the plum tree, much in the attitude of a manwho is about to receive five hundred lashes, and reached far out to theright.
"Another two inches will do it," called out Miss Damer encouragingly.
She was right. I strained two inches further, and my fingers closedupon the fruit. Simultaneously the greater part of the plum treeabandoned its adherence to the wall, and in due course,--aboutfour-fifths of a second, I should say,--I found myself lying on my backin a gooseberry-bush, clasping to my bosom the greater part of avaluable fruit tree, dimly conscious, from glimpses through theinterstices of my leafy bower, of the presence of a towering andmajestic figure upon the gravel walk beside Miss Damer.
It was Lady Adela Mainwaring, my hostess, armed _cap-a-pie_ ingauntlets, green baize apron, and garden hat, for a murderous morningamong the slugs.
I struggled to a sitting position, slightly dazed, and not a littleapprehensive lest I should be mistaken for a slug.
Neither Miss Damer nor my hostess uttered a word, Lady Adela because herhigh breeding and immense self-control restrained her; Miss Damer, Ishrewdly suspect, because she was engaged in bolting the last evidenceof her complicity. But both ladies were regarding me with an expressionof pained reproach.
I shook myself free from my arboreal surroundings, and smiled weakly.
"Have you hurt yourself, Mr. Carmyle?" enquired Lady Adela.
"No, thank you," I replied, wondering if I would have received a lightersentence if I had said yes.
"If you should desire to eat fruit at any time," continued Lady Adela ina gentle voice, much as one might address an imbecile subject to suddenattacks of eccentric mania, "one of the gardeners will always be glad toget it for you. You had better go in now and dress, as we start for theraces in half an hour. Constance, dearest, run and find Puttick, andask him if anything can be done for this tree."
Miss Damer tripped obediently away in search of the head-gardener, andLady Adela led me kindly but firmly past the gooseberry-bushes and othersources of temptation to the house.
I did not see Miss Damer again until I met her with the others in thehall half an hour later.
She projected a sad smile upon me through her motor-veil, and shook herhead.
"I hope you did n't hurt yourself," she said softly.
"I hope the last plumstone did n't choke you!" I replied sternly.
At this moment Lady Adela joined the party, and pronounced sentence asrecorded at the beginning of this chapter. The other five accordinglydescended the steps and began to pack themselves into the motor.
"May I drive, Dicky?" enquired Miss Damer.
No one ever thought of refusing Miss Damer anything. Her request wasevidently the merest matter of form, for she was at the wheel almost assoon as she made it. Even Lady Adela merely smiled indulgently.
"Constance, _dear child_!" she murmured.
Dicky carefully packed his _fiancee_ into the back seat, where hissister had already taken her place.
"You had better sit between us, I think," said Miss Beverley.
"I am going to sit in front," said Dicky, "in case Connie does anythingspecially crack-brained with the car. Crick, old friend, just separatethese two fair ladies, will you?"
Mr. Crick obeyed with alacrity. The Freak, heedless of a tiny cloudupon Miss Beverley's usually serene brow, stepped up beside Miss Damer.That lady released her clutch-pedal, and the car, spurting up gravelwith its back wheels, shot convulsively forward and then began to crawlheavily on its way.
"We'll put something on for you if you aren't in time for the firstrace, Bill," called The Freak to me. "What do you want to back?"
I inflated my lungs, and replied _fortissimo_:--
"Plumstone!"
Miss Damer's small foot came heavily down upon the accelerator, and thecar whizzed down the drive.