PART TWO
CHAPTER XIII
Certain days become retrospectively memorable, and that howeverapparently uneventful they may have seemed at the time.
To Laura Pavely the 6th of January opened as had done all the other daysduring the last few weeks, that is, quietly, dully, and sadly.
There was one difference, trifling or not as one happened to look at thematter. Godfrey was away in London. He had been absent for over aweek--since the 28th, and though he had been expected back last night,there had come a telephone message, late in the afternoon, to say thathis business would keep him away a day longer.
This morning--it was a Friday morning--Laura, trying hard to shake offher depression, told herself that she and Alice might as well go for aride. It was a beautiful day, and the wind blew soft. They would goacross the downs to a certain lonely spot which Alice loved.
Laura was already in the hall in her riding habit, waiting for thechild, when there came a telephone message through from Pewsbury. It wasfrom the Bank asking what time Mr. Pavely would be there. A gentlemanwith whom he had made an appointment for ten o'clock, had been waitingfor him since that hour. It was now nearly eleven.
Laura turned to the servant: "Did Mr. Pavely give you any message tosend on to the Bank?" she asked.
The man answered, "No, ma'am, not that I understood. Mr. Pavely didn'tcome himself to the telephone."
"What was the message exactly?" Laura was always kind and courteous inher manner to her servants, and they were all attached to her.
"It was as how Mr. Pavely was being detained, and could not be home lastnight, ma'am. The person who gave the message was in a great hurry--hecut me off before I could say anything to him."
"I suppose we ought to have telephoned to the Bank early this morning,"said Laura thoughtfully. But it had never occurred to her that it wouldbe necessary for her to do so. Her husband was a very exact man ofbusiness. She had taken it as certain that he had also communicated withthe Bank.
"Who was it telephoned just now?" she asked.
"I think it was Mr. Privet himself, ma'am. He said he felt sure Mr.Pavely intended to be back this morning, because of the gentleman he hadarranged to see."
"Perhaps I had better speak to Mr. Privet myself," said Laura. "Is thatyou, Mr. Privet?"
"I wish you a very good morning, Mrs. Pavely. I didn't mean to put youto any trouble, but you see the matter is important----" Even throughthe telephone she could hear a mysterious tone in the old voice, thoughhe was speaking in so low a tone that she could scarcely hear. "It'sLord St. Amant. He's been here since ten o'clock, and he says he can'tstop any longer. Mr. Pavely made an appointment with his lordship overa week ago. It's very strange he should have forgotten, isn't it, Mrs.Pavely?"
"Yes, I think it _is_ strange," she said slowly. "Will you tell hislordship that I'm exceedingly sorry that word was not sent him. If I hadknown of the appointment, of course I would have communicated with himeither by telephone or by a note."
"Then I'm to put off all Mr. Pavely's appointments for to-day?"
"Well, yes, Mr. Privet, that seems to me the only thing you can do."
Laura smiled a little as she left the telephone. Mr. Privet's tone, ifnot his words, made it quite clear that he thought Mr. Pavely hadcommitted a serious solecism, almost the worst solecism a country bankercould commit, in not keeping an appointment with the great man of theneighbourhood, who was to be the new Lord Lieutenant of the county.
* * * * *
An hour and a half later, as mother and child were riding slowly home,Laura suddenly told herself that it was a long time since Mrs. Tropenellhad seen Alice on pony-back. Why shouldn't they both go on to Freshley?And if Aunt Letty asked them to stay to lunch, as she very probablywould, so much the better!
On their way to the front door of the house, they turned into thestable-yard to find a groom, and then, suddenly, Laura felt a queer, andto herself an utterly unexpected and new, sensation sweep over her. Itwas a sensation of eager, unreasoning joy.
Oliver Tropenell stood in the middle of the yard, talking to hismother's old groom. He looked ill and tired--dreadfully tired. But allat once, as he saw Laura and her child come riding in, a wonderfulchange swept over his dark face--there came over it a glowing expressionof welcome and delight. He lifted Alice off her pony. Then he cameforward to help Laura....
With a shock of surprise which seemed to make her heart stop beating,Laura felt her whole being responding to the ardent, and at onceimperious and imploring look with which he gazed up into her eyes. Shewas shaken, awed by the passion he threw, perhaps unconsciously, intothat long, beckoning look--stirred to the heart by the feeling ofcontent his mere presence brought her.
But even in those few flashing moments, Laura Pavely quickly, almostfiercely, assured herself that this new, strange sensation of oneness,of surrender on her part, was "friendship," nothing more.
Yet her voice faltered in spite of herself, as she said, "Hadn't webetter ride round? I only came in here to find some one to hold thehorses, in case your mother wanted us to come in."
But with a muttered, "Mother has got Lord St. Amant to luncheon--I knowshe would like you both to stay, too," he lifted her off her horse.
They walked to a door which led into the back part of the house, and soby a corridor to a small room where Mrs. Tropenell generally sat in themorning. As they went along, Alice, alone, chattered happily.
At last Laura, more for the sake of proving to herself that she feltquite at ease than for anything else, asked suddenly, "I suppose youdidn't see Godfrey on your way through London?"
Oliver waited a few moments--so long indeed that she wondered if he hadheard her. But she knew in her heart that he had, for his face haddarkened at the mention of her husband's name. At last he answered, verydeliberately, "Is Godfrey away then?"
"Yes. He went off some days ago. We expected him home yesterday; but hesent a telephone message to say he wasn't coming back till to-night."
They were now before the door of Mrs. Tropenell's sitting-room. Her sonopened it quietly, and for a moment the three stood there, gazing intothe panelled, sunlit little room, which was part of the survival of amuch older building than the eighteenth-century manor-house.
Mrs. Tropenell, sitting upright in a low chair, was looking up into theface of the man who stood before her, and they were both so absorbed inwhat they were saying that neither had heard the door open.
Laura gazed with new eyes, a new curiosity, at Lord St. Amant. She hadseen him often in this house, though sometimes at comparatively longintervals, ever since she was a child, and always he had had a fixedplace, in her mind and imagination, as Mrs. Tropenell's one man-friend.
To-day, seeing the two thus talking eagerly together she felt herinterest oddly quickened. She was asking herself eagerly whether somesuch passage as that which had taken place between herself and OliverTropenell three months ago, and which had caused her so much pain, hadever occurred between those two in the days when Lady St. Amant, afretful, selfish invalid whom every one disliked, was still alive. Ifyes, then Mrs. Tropenell had evidently known how to retain thefriendship, the warm affections of a man who, younger, had beennotoriously inconstant.
In Laura's eyes these two had always been old when she thought of themat all. But to-day she realised, as in a flash, that the man and womanbefore her had also been young, and that not so very long ago.
Even now, Lord St. Amant was a still vigorous and active-looking man. Hewas leaning over the back of a chair, looking eagerly into his oldfriend's face. Was it true, as some of the gossips said, that he hadremained a widower for that same friend's sake?
Laura gazed at him with an almost hungry curiosity. She was absurdlysurprised that he looked to-day exactly as he had always looked in hereyes--a pleasant, agreeable-mannered, amusing man of the world, not atall her notion of the one-time lover of many women.
Lord St. Amant's hair had now gone white, but, apart from t
hat he lookedjust as he had been wont to look, when he came and went about FreshleyManor, when she, as a child, had stayed there with her mother. Someyears later, she had become dimly aware--girls always know suchthings--that Mrs. Tropenell had had a fleeting notion of marrying her toLord St. Amant. But Laura had also known that it was Mrs. Tropenell, notherself, who was the magnet which then drew him so often to FreshleyManor.
They had once, however, had an intimate talk together. It had been onone of the very rare occasions when Mrs. Tropenell was ill, confined tobed, upstairs, and she, Laura Baynton, had been left alone to entertainher Aunt Letty's old friend. And their talk--she remembered it now--hadbeen all of Oliver: of Oliver and his mother.
Lord St. Amant had spoken with much heat of Oliver's having settled onthe other side of the world, leaving Mrs. Tropenell lonely. Then he hadsmiled a curious little smile: "But that makes no difference. To amother 'distance makes the heart grow fonder,' and also 'lendsenchantment to the view.' An only son, Laura, is the most formidable ofrivals."
The girl had been flattered, touched too, by the implied confidence.
She had yet another vivid memory of Lord St. Amant. He had sent her,immediately on hearing of her engagement to Godfrey Pavely, amagnificent wedding present; also he had come, at some inconvenience, toher marriage.
Godfrey had supposed the compliment due to regard for himself and forhis father, but Laura, of course, had known better. Lord St. Amant hadcome to her marriage to please Mrs. Tropenell--because he regarded her,in a sense, as Mrs. Tropenell's adopted daughter.
Something of all this moved in quick procession through Laura Pavely'smind, as she stood in the doorway, looking more beautiful, moreanimated, more feminine, in spite of--or was it because of?--her ridingdress, than Oliver Tropenell had ever seen her.
She moved forward into the room, and Lord St. Amant turned quicklyround.
If Laura looked at Lord St. Amant with a new interest, a new curiosityin her beautiful eyes, he, on his side, now looked at Laura moreattentively than he had done for a long time. He had been abroad for twomonths, and this was the first time he and Mrs. Tropenell had met sincehis return.
They had just had a long talk, and during that talk she had at last toldhim something which had amused, surprised, and yes, interested him verymuch; for Lord St. Amant, in the evening of his days, found himselfmore, not less, tolerant of, and interested in, human nature, and inhuman nature's curious kinks and byways, than at the time when hehimself had provided his friends and contemporaries with food for gossipand scandal. But he had been very comforting in his comments on herstory, and more than once he had made his old friend smile. Mrs.Tropenell had felt very, very glad to see Lord St. Amant. It was naturalthat she should be glad to have once more within easy reach of her theone human being in the world to whom she could talk freely, and who tookan unaffectedly close, deep interest in all her concerns.
* * * * *
Not till they were all sitting at luncheon, was Laura able, in a lowtone, to inquire after her brother. Little Alice knew nothing of heruncle's visit to England. Godfrey and Laura had tacitly agreed to keepthe child in ignorance of it. But now Laura asked, with some eagerness,"And Gillie? What's happened to Gillie? Is he still abroad?"
Olive answered at once, "No, he's gone back to Mexico." And then, as hesaw a look of blank disappointment shadow her face, he added, hastily,"He gave me a lot of messages for you--I was coming over this afternoonto deliver them. You know what Gillie's like--he never writes if he canhelp it!"
"Yes," she said, "I know that," and she sighed. "Did he go from a Frenchport?" she asked.
Oliver hesitated. It was almost as if he had forgotten. But at last heanswered, "Yes, he went from Havre. I saw him off."
And then something rather untoward happened. There came a violentringing at the front door--a loud, imperious pulling at the big,old-fashioned iron bell-pull. To the surprise of his mother, Oliverflushed--a deep, unbecoming brick red. Starting up from table, he pushedhis chair aside, and walked quickly to the door. It was almost as if heexpected some one. "I'll see who it is!" he called out.
They heard him striding across the hall, and flinging open the frontdoor....
Then he came back slowly, and Mrs. Tropenell saw that there was a lookof immeasurable relief on his face. "It's a man who's brought a parcelfrom Pewsbury for one of the servants. He declared he couldn't make anyone hear at the back, and so he came round to the front door--ratherimpudent of him, eh?" and he sat down again.
Coffee was served in the pleasant, low-ceilinged drawing-room, and thenOliver and Laura went out of doors, with Alice trotting by their side.
It was quite like old times. And the child voiced their unspokenfeeling, when, slipping her hand into Oliver's, she exclaimed, "This isjolly! Just like what it used to be when you were here before!"
And he pressed the little hand which lay so confidingly in his. "Yes,"he said, in a low voice, "the same--but nicer, don't you think so,Alice?"
And Alice answered with the downrightness of childhood, "I can't tellyet! I shall know that after you've been here a little while. We can'tgarden as much as we did then, for now the ground is too hard."
"But we can do other things," said Oliver, smiling down at her.
And Alice answered doubtfully, "Yes, I suppose we can."
They did not say very much. Oliver did not talk, as perhaps another manwould have done, of his and Gillie's adventures in France and Italy. Andafter a comparatively short time Laura suggested that she and Alice hadbetter now ride home.
"Will you come over to tea?" she asked.
And Oliver said yes, that he would.
"I daresay Godfrey will be back by then. He often takes the earlyafternoon train down from London."
But to that he made no answer, and Laura, with a rather painfulsensation, saw the light suddenly die out of his face.
He came round to the stable. "I'll walk a little way with you," he said.
But she exclaimed rather hurriedly, "No, don't do that, Oliver! Staywith your mother and Lord St. Amant."
And without any word of protest he obeyed her.
* * * * *
It is strange what a difference the return of a friend may make to life!Laura Pavely felt another woman as she busied herself that afternoon,happily waiting for Oliver Tropenell. Honestly she hoped that Godfreywould come back by the early afternoon train; he, too, would be glad tosee Oliver.
But the time went by, and there came no message through from Londonordering the car to be sent to the station, and Laura told herself thatperhaps Godfrey had gone straight to the Bank.
At last, a little after five, Oliver Tropenell came sauntering in, verymuch as he used to saunter in, during the long happy summer days whenthey had just become friends.
They had tea in Alice's day-nursery, and after tea, they all threeplayed games till it was nearly seven. Then, reluctantly, Oliver got up,and said he must go home. And as he stood there, gazing down into herface, Laura was struck, as she had been that morning in the first momentof their meeting, by his look of fatigue and of strain. She, who was solittle apt to notice such things, unless her little girl was inquestion, glanced up at him anxiously. "You don't look well," she said,with some concern. "You don't look as if you'd had a holiday, Oliver."
"I shall soon get all right," he muttered, "now that I'm here, withmother." And then, in a lower voice, he added the words, "and with you,Laura."
She answered, nervously determined to hark back to what had been theirold, happy condition, "Alice and I have both missed youdreadfully--haven't we, my darling?"
And Alice said gaily, "Oh yes, indeed, we have, mother." Then the childturned, in her pretty, eager way to Oliver, "I hope you'll stay a long,long time at Freshley. If only it snows, father thinks it may soon, youand I can make a snow man!"
And Oliver, after a moment's pause, answered, "Yes, so we can, Alice.I'm going to stay at home some time now, I hope."
And again, on hearing those words, Laura felt that new, unreasoningthrill of joy which she had felt when she had seen Oliver standing inthe middle of his mother's stable-yard. Till that moment, and nowagain, just now, she had not known how much she had missed her friend.
At last, when it was really time for him to go, Laura and Alice bothaccompanied their guest to the hall. Then he turned abruptly to Laura:"How about to-morrow? May I come to-morrow morning?"
And over Laura there came just a little tremour of misgiving. SurelyOliver was going to be--reasonable?
"Yes," she said hesitatingly, "I shall be very glad to see you--thoughof course I'm rather busy in the morning. To-morrow Mademoiselle is notcoming. Perhaps I'd better telephone early and tell you our plans forthe day. Godfrey will be so glad to see you, Oliver. He asked only theother day when Mrs. Tropenell expected you back."
But to that remark Oliver made no answer.
After the heavy front door had shut behind her visitor, and when Alicehad already run out of the hall, Laura opened the front door again.
She called out: "Perhaps you'll meet Godfrey. He may be here any momentnow; if he's been at the Bank, he will walk out from Pewsbury."
But Oliver did not turn round. He was evidently already out of hearing.
Feeling strangely restless, Laura walked out a little way, closing thedoor partly behind her. There was about a quarter of a mile of carriageroad from the house to the gate, but the night was very clear, theground hard and dry. Soon her eyes became accustomed to the darkness;she could see Oliver's tall figure rapidly growing less and less, dimmerand dimmer. Every moment she expected to see another, still morefamiliar, form emerge from out of the darkness. But, after pacing up anddown for perhaps as long as ten minutes, she went back into the house.Godfrey was evidently coming home by the last train.
Moved by an indefinable feeling of peace as well as of contentment,Laura sat up long that night, waiting for her husband. She had made upher mind to tell him, not only that Oliver had come back, but also thather brother was on his way to Mexico. Half ashamedly she asked herselfwhy they should not all three go back to the happy conditions which hadlasted all the summer?
But there came neither Godfrey nor news of him, and Laura spent theevening of a day of which the date was to become memorable, notunhappily in reading.
When it came to half-past eleven, she knew that her husband would not behome that night, but, even so, she sat up till the tall lacquered clockin the hall struck out the chimes of midnight. Then, a littlereluctantly, she went upstairs, telling herself that if in the morningthere was still no news of Godfrey, she and Alice would stroll along toRosedean. Katty might know something of Godfrey's movements, for whenshe had been last at The Chase an illusion had been made to a bit ofbusiness he was to do for her in London, which would necessitate somecorrespondence.