CHAPTER XIV
A MAN'S CONFIDENCE
"Aren't you going to kiss Aunt Avery under the mistletoe?" asked Gracie.
"No," said Piers. "Aunt Avery may kiss me if she likes." He looked atAvery with his sudden, boyish laugh. "But I know she doesn't like, sothat's an end of the matter."
"How do you know?" persisted Gracie. "She's very fond of kissing. Andanyone may kiss under the mistletoe."
"That quite does away with the charm of it in my opinion," declaredPiers. "I don't appreciate things when you can get 'em cheap."
He moved over to Jeanie's sofa and sat down on the edge. Her soft eyessmiled a welcome, the little thin hand slipped into his.
"I've been wishing for you all day long," she said.
He leaned towards her. "Have you, my fairy queen? Well, I'm here atlast."
Avery, from the head of the schoolroom table, looked across at them witha feeling of fulness at her heart. She never liked Piers so well as whenshe saw him in company with her little favourite. His gentleness andchivalry made of him a very perfect knight.
"Yes," said Jeanie, giving his hand a little squeeze. "We're going tohave our Christmas Tree to-night, and Dr. Tudor is coming. You don't likehim, I know. But he's really quite a nice man."
She spoke the last words pleadingly, in response to a slight frownbetween Piers' brows.
"Oh, is he?" said Piers, without enthusiasm.
"He's been very kind," said Jeanie in a tone of apology.
"He'd better be anything else--to you!" said Piers, with a smile that wassomewhat grim.
Jeanie's fingers caressed his again propitiatingly. "Do let's all be niceto each other just for to-night!" she said.
Piers' smile became tender again. "As your gracious majesty decrees!" hesaid. "Where is the ceremony to be held?"
"Up in the nursery. We've had the little ones in here all day, whileMother and Nurse have been getting it ready. I haven't seen it yet."
"Can't we creep up when no one's looking and have a private view?"suggested Piers.
Jeanie beamed at the idea. "I would like to, for I've been in the secretfrom the very beginning. But you must finish your tea first. We'll gowhen the crackers begin."
As the pulling of crackers was the signal for every child at the table tomake as much noise as possible, it was not difficult to effect theirretreat without exciting general attention. Avery alone noted theirdeparture and smiled at Jeanie's flushed face as the child noddedfarewell to her over Piers' shoulder.
"You do carry me so beautifully," Jeanie confided to him as he mountedthe stairs to the top of the house. "I love the feel of your arms. Theyare so strong and kind. You're sure I'm not too heavy?"
"I could carry a dozen of you," said Piers.
They found the nursery brilliantly lighted and lavishly adorned withfestoons of coloured paper.
"Aunt Avery and I did most of that," said Jeanie proudly.
Piers bore her round the room, admiring every detail, finally depositingher in a big arm-chair close to the tall screen that hid the ChristmasTree. Jeanie's leg was mending rapidly, and gave her little trouble now.She lay back contentedly, with shining eyes upon her cavalier.
"It was very nice of you to be so kind to Gracie last night," she said."She told me all about it to-day. Of course she ought not to have doneit. I hope--I hope Sir Beverley wasn't angry about it."
Piers laughed a little. "Oh no! He got over it. Was Gracie scared?"
"Not really. She said she thought he wasn't quite pleased with you. I dohope he didn't think it was your fault."
"My shoulders are fairly broad," said Piers.
"Yes, but it wouldn't be right," maintained Jeanie. "I think I ought towrite to him and explain."
"No, no!" said Piers. "You leave the old chap alone. Heunderstands--quite as much as he wants to understand."
There was a note of bitterness in his voice which Jeanie was quick todiscern. She reached up a sympathetic hand to his. "Dear Sir Galahad!"she said softly.
Piers looked down at her for a few moments in silence. And then, verysuddenly, moved by the utter devotion that looked back at him from hereyes, he went down on his knees beside her and held her to his heart.
"It's a beast of a world, Jeanie," he said.
"Is it?" whispered Jeanie, with his hand pressed tight against her cheek.
There was silence between them for a little space; then she lifted herface to his, to murmur in a motherly tone, "I expect you're tired."
"Tired!" said Piers with gloomy vehemence. "Yes, I am tired--sick todeath of everything. I'm like a dog on a chain. I can see what I want,but it's always just out of my reach."
Jeanie's hand came up and softly stroked his face. "I wish I could getit for you," she said.
"Bless you, sweetheart!" said Piers. "You don't so much as know what itis, do you?"
"Yes, I do," said Jeanie. She leaned her head back against his shoulder,looking up into his face with all her child's soul shining in her eyes."It's--Aunt Avery; isn't it?"
"How did you know?" said Piers.
"I don't know," said Jeanie. "It just--came to me--that day in theschoolroom when you talked about the ticket of leave. You were unhappythat day, weren't you?"
"Yes," said Piers. He added after a moment, "You see, I'm not goodenough for her."
"Not good enough!" Jeanie's face became incredulous and a littledistressed. "I'm sure--she--doesn't think that," she said.
"She doesn't know me properly," said Piers. "Nor do you. If you did,you'd be shocked,--you'd be horrified."
He spoke recklessly, almost defiantly; but Jeanie only stretched up athin arm and wound it about his neck. "Never!" she told him softly."No, never!"
He held her to him; but he would not be silenced. "I assure you, I'm nosaint," he said. "I feel more like a devil sometimes. I've done badthings, Jeanie, I can't tell you how bad. It would only hurt you."
The words ran out impulsively. His breathing came quick and short; hishold was tense. In that moment the child's pure spirit recognized thatthe image had crumbled in her shrine, but the brave heart of her didnot flinch. Very tenderly she veiled the ruin. The element of worshiphad vanished in that single instant of revelation; but her loveremained, and it shone out to him like a beacon as he knelt there inabasement by her side.
"But you're sorry," she whispered. "You would undo the bad things ifyou could."
"God knows I would!" he said.
"Perhaps He will undo them for you," she murmured softly. "Have youasked Him?"
"There are some things that can't be undone," groaned Piers. "It would betoo big a job even for Him."
"Nothing is that," said Jeanie with conviction. "If we are sorry and ifwe pray, some day He will undo all the bad we've ever done."
"I haven't prayed for six years," said Piers. "Things went wrong with me.I felt as if I were under a curse. And I gave it up."
"Oh, Piers!" she said, holding him closer. "How miserable you musthave been!"
"I've been in hell!" he said with bitter vehemence. "And the gates tightshut! Not that I was ever very great in the spiritual lines," he addedmore calmly. "But I used to think God took a friendly interest in myaffairs till--till I went down into hell and the gates shut on me; andthen--" he spoke grimly--"I knew He didn't care a rap."
"But, dear, He does care!" said Jeanie very earnestly.
"He doesn't!" said Piers moodily. "He can't!"
"Piers, He does!" She raised her head and looked him straight in theeyes. "Everyone feels like that sometimes," she said. "But Aunt Averysays it's only because we are too little to understand. Won't you beginand pray again? It does make a difference even though we can't see it."
"I can't," said Piers. And then with swift compunction he kissed herface of disappointment. "Never mind, my queen! Don't you bother yourlittle head about me! I shall rub along all right even if I don't comeout on top."
"But I want you to be happy," said Jeanie. "I wish I could help you,Piers,--dear Piers."
"You do help me," said Piers.
There came the sound of voices on the stairs, and he got up.
Jeanie looked up at him wistfully. "I shall try," she said. "I shalltry--hard."
He patted her head and turned away.
Mr. Lorimer and Miss Whalley entered the room. The former raised hisbrows momentarily at the sight of Piers, but he greeted him with muchgeniality.
"I am quite delighted to welcome you to the children's Christmas party,"he declared, with Piers' hand held impressively in his. "And how is yourgrandfather, my dear lad?"
Piers contracted instinctively. "He is quite well, thanks," he said. "Ihaven't come to stay. I only looked in for a moment."
He glanced towards Miss Whalley whom he had never met before. The Vicarsmilingly introduced him. "This is the Squire's grandson and heir, MissWhalley. Doubtless you know him by sight as well as by repute--thekeenest sportsman in the county, eh, my young friend?" His eyesdisappeared with the words as if pulled inwards by a string.
"I don't know," said Piers, becoming extremely blunt and British. "I'mcertainly keen, but so are dozens of others." He bowed to Miss Whalleywith stiff courtesy. "Pleased to meet you," he said formally.
Miss Whalley acknowledged the compliment with a severe air ofincredulity. She had never approved of Piers since a certain Sundaymorning ten years before when she had caught him shooting at thechoir-boys with a catapult, during the litany, over the top of thesquire's large square pew.
She had reported the crime to the Vicar, and the Vicar had lodged aformal complaint with Sir Beverley, who had soundly caned the delinquentin his presence, and given him half a sovereign as soon as the clericalback had been turned for taking the punishment like a man.
But in Miss Whalley's eyes Piers had from that moment ceased to beregarded as one of the elect, and his curt reception of the good Vicar'spatronage did not further elevate him in her esteem. She made as brief aresponse to the introduction as politeness demanded, and crossed the roomto Jeanie.
"I must be off," said Piers. "I've stayed longer than I intendedalready."
"Pray do not hurry!" urged Mr. Lorimer. "The festivities are but justbeginning."
But Piers was insistent, and even Jeanie's wistful eyes could not detainhim. He waved her a careless farewell, and extricated himself as quicklyas possible from surroundings that had become uncongenial.
Descending the stairs somewhat precipitately, he nearly ran into Averyascending with a troop of children, and stopped to say good-bye.
"You're not going!" cried Gracie, with keen disappointment.
"Yes, I am. I can't stop. It's later than I thought. See you to-morrow!"said Piers.
He held Avery's hand again in his, and for one fleeting second his eyeslooked into hers. Then lightly he pressed her fingers and passed onwithout further words.
On the first landing he encountered Mrs. Lorimer. She smiled upon himkindly. "Oh, Piers, is it you?" she said. "Have you been having tea inthe schoolroom?"
He admitted that he had.
"And must you really go?" she said. "I'm sorry for that. Come again,won't you?"
Her tone was full of gentle friendliness, and Piers was touched. "It'sawfully good of you to ask me," he said.
"I like to see you here," she answered simply. "And I am so grateful toyou for your kindness to my little Jeanie."
"Oh, please don't!" said Piers. "I assure you it's quite the other wayround. I shall certainly come again since you are good enough to ask me."
He smiled with boyish gallantry into the wistful, faded face, carried herfingers lightly to his lips, and passed on.
"Such a nice boy!" Mrs. Lorimer murmured to herself as she went up tothe nursery.
"Poor little soul!" was Piers' inward comment as he ran down to the hall.
Here he paused, finding himself face to face with Lennox Tudor who wastaking off his coat preparatory to ascending.
The doctor nodded to him without cordiality. Neither of them everpretended to take any pleasure in the other's society.
"Are you just going?" he asked. "Your grandfather is wanting you."
"Who says so?" said Piers aggressively.
"I say so." Curtly Tudor made answer, meeting Piers' quick frown with oneequally decided.
Piers stood still in front of him. "Have you just come from the Abbey?"he demanded.
"I have." Tudor's tone was non-committal. He stood facing Piers,waiting to pass.
"What are you always going there for?" burst forth Piers, with heat. "Hedoesn't want you--never follows your advice, and does excellently wellwithout it."
"Really!" said Tudor. He uttered a short, sarcastic laugh, albeit histhick brows met closely above his glasses. "Well, you ought toknow--being such a devoted and attentive grandson."
Piers' hands clenched at the words. He looked suddenly dangerous. "Whatin thunder do you mean?" he demanded.
Tudor was nothing loth to enlighten him. He was plainly angry himself."I mean," he said, "if you must have it, that the time you spendphilandering here would be better employed in looking after the old man,who has spent a good deal over you and gets precious little interest outof the investment."
"Confound you!" exclaimed Piers violently. "Who the devil are you to talkto me like this? Do you think I'm going to put up with it, what? If so,you're damned well mistaken. You leave me alone--and my grandfather too;do you hear? If you don't--" He broke off, breathing short and hard.
But Tudor remained unimpressed. He looked at Piers as one mightlook at an animal raging behind bars. "Well?" he said. "Prayfinish! If I don't--"
Piers' face was very pale. His eyes blazed out of it, red andthreatening. "If you don't--I'll murder you!" he said.
And at that he stopped short and suddenly wheeled round as he caught theswish of a dress on the stairs. He looked up into Avery's face as shecame swiftly down, and the blood rose in a deep, dark wave to hisforehead. He made no attempt to cover or excuse his passionate outburst,which it was perfectly obvious she must have heard. He merely made wayfor her, his hands still hard clenched, his eyes immovably upon her.
Avery passed him with scarcely a glance, but her voice as she addressedLennox Tudor sounded a trifle austere. "I heard you speaking," she said,"and ran down to fetch you upstairs. Will you come up at once, please?The ceremony is just beginning."
Tudor held out a steady hand, "Very kind of you, Mrs. Denys," he said."Will you lead the way?" And then for a moment he turned from her toPiers. "If you have anything further to say to me, Evesham, I shall bequite ready to give you a hearing on a more suitable occasion."
"I have nothing further to say," said Piers, still with his eyesupon Avery.
She would not look at him. With deliberate intention, she ignored hislook. "Come, doctor!" she said.
They mounted the stairs together, Piers still standing motionless, stillmutely watching. There was no temper nor anger in his face. Simply hestood and waited. And, as if that silent gaze drew her, even against herwill, suddenly at the top she turned. Her own sweet smile flashed intoher face. She threw a friendly glance down to him.
"Good-night, Mr. Evesham!" she called softly. "A happy Christmas to you!"
And as if that were what he had been waiting for, Piers bowed very low inanswer and at once turned away.
His face as he went out into the night wore a very curious expression. Itwas not grim, nor ashamed, nor triumphant, and yet there was in it asuggestion of all three moods.
He reached his car, standing as he had left it in the deserted lane, andstooped to start the engine. Then, as it throbbed in answer, hestraightened himself, and very suddenly he laughed. But it was not ahappy laugh; and in a moment more he shot away into the dark as thoughpursued by fiends. If he had gained his end, if he had in any fashionachieved his desire, it was plain that it did not give him any greatsatisfaction. He went like a fury through the night.