CHAPTER XI
THE STING OF A SCORPION
"Oh, dear, I wish it wasn't so muddy." Dot, emerging from old Squinny'scottage, stood a moment on the edge of the large puddle that was oldSquinny's garden and gazed over the ploughed fields beyond towards thesinking sun. It was the last day in January, and the winter dusk wasalready creeping up in a curtain of damp mist that veiled everything ittouched. She knew it would be dark long before she got home, and theprospect of sliding about in the muddy lanes did not attract her.
"You were an idiot not to bring a lantern," she told herself severely,as she skirted the edge of the puddle. "You might have known--but younever think!"
Here she reached the garden-gate and lifted it scientifically off itshinges and then back again when she had passed through. Old Squinny'sgate had not opened in the ordinary way within the memory of man. It wasstoutly bound to the gate-post by several twists of rusty chain.
A stretch of waste land lay beyond the cottage garden; then came theroad and then the fields, brown and undulating in the ruddy western glow.For a second or two Dot considered the homeward path that lay across thefields. She had come by that earlier in the afternoon, and she knewexactly what it had to offer besides the advantage of cutting half a milefrom a three-mile trudge. But her knowledge eventually decided her infavour of the road.
"Besides," as she optimistically remarked to herself, "someone might passand give me a lift."
For Dot was not above being seen in a waggon or a tradesman's cart.She accepted as she was prone to give, promiscuously and withabsolute freedom.
But it was no tradesman's cart that the gods had in store for her thatday. Rather was it a chariot of their own that presently swooped as ifupon wings swiftly and smoothly down upon the Sturdy wayfarer. Dotherself was scarcely aware of its approach before it had passed and cometo a standstill barely half a dozen yards from her.
"Hullo!" cried a boyish voice. "This is luck! Jump in! I'll soon trundleyou home."
It was Bertie leaning out from the wheel on which his hands rested. Inthe open seat behind him, propped by cushions, sat a man whom she knewinstantly though she had never met him before. He looked at her as shecame up to the car with blue eyes as frank and kind as Bertie's, thoughnot so merry. It was not difficult to see that they were brothers.
"My brother Lucas," said Bertie, "the one you wanted to know."
He smiled as he said it for the sheer malicious pleasure of seeing herblush. And Dot's green-brown eyes shot him a glance of quick indignation.
But Lucas Errol stepped calmly into the breach. "This young brother ofmine has a way of turning things topsy-turvy," he said in his easy drawl."We just make allowances for him when we can, and kick him when we can't.It is I who have wanted to know you, Miss Waring--it is Miss Waring, Ithink?--for some time past. Won't you get in beside me and give me thepleasure of making your acquaintance?"
He pulled off his glove and offered her his hand.
Dot instantly took it, but when he would have helped her in she drewback. "I had better not, really. Look at my boots!"
"Jump in!" urged Bertie. "Who cares?"
He sprang suddenly down and seized her impulsively by the waist. Inanother second he would have bundled her in without ceremony, butquietly, with no change of countenance, his brother intervened.
"Bertie, behave yourself! Miss Waring, I beg you will do exactly as youlike, but please believe that the state of your boots doesn't matter acent. I should say the same with absolute honesty if I had to clean thecar myself."
"I am quite sure I shouldn't in your place," said Dot as she climbedinto the car.
Lucas smiled and fished out a spare rug. "Put it round your shoulders andfold it well over. You will find it cold when we begin to move. Are yourfeet quite warm? There is a foot-warmer here. Tuck her in well, Bertie.That's the way."
"You will never get out again," laughed Bertie, as he shut the door uponher. "Now, where are we going? To Baronmead?"
His merry eyes besought her for an instant; then, as she began to shakeher head, "Can't you persuade her, Luke?" he said.
"I think so," Lucas answered. "Drive on slowly while I try. You knowthere is a friend of yours there, Miss Waring?"
"Lady Carfax?" said Dot quickly.
He bent his head. "I think she would like you to visit her. She has sofew friends."
"I would love to, of course," Dot said impetuously. "But--you know, I'venever visited her before, though I have often longed to. People don'tcall at the Manor. Not even Dad goes there. And in any case, I am hardlygrown up enough to pay calls. Wouldn't she--are you sure she wouldn'tthink it very presumptuous of me to go and see her?"
"That is the last thing I should expect from her," Lucas answered, withquiet conviction.
"She is very proud," Dot began.
"She is very miserable," he said.
Dot's eyes softened. "Oh, poor Lady Carfax!" she said. "So you knowthat, too!"
"I have seen her only twice," he said. "Yes, I know it."
Dot's eyes widened. "Only twice! Why, surely it must be three weeksnearly since her accident."
"I believe it is. But it was serious, you know, and she has made a veryslow recovery. The doctor has only just allowed her to be removed toanother room."
"Poor Lady Carfax!" Dot said again. "Yes, I'll come. I know Dadwouldn't mind!"
So Bertie had his desire and turned the motor with a light heart towardsBaronmead. He sang as he drove, sang at the top of his voice; for he wasin a happy mood that evening.
And Dot was happy too, though a little nervous. She had often longed togo to Baronmead, and she was already thoroughly at her ease with themaster thereof, who sat and conversed beside her in that rathermonotonous, tired drawl of his. It was only the thought of Anne that madeher nervous. Warmly as she admired her, she was ever so slightly afraidof the stately lady of the Manor, who made friends with so few and forall her queenly graciousness kept those she had at so discreet adistance. Of course everyone knew why. The reason was plain to all whohad eyes to see. But that fact did not help any to overstep the barrier,nor did it keep the majority from being affronted. Dot was not of thelatter, but she was ever shy in Anne's presence, though it was more thefear of hurting than of being hurt that made her so.
She enjoyed the brisk run to Baronmead with all her healthy soul. As theysped up the long drive they were joined by a galloping horseman, whoshouted to Bertie to put on speed and flogged his animal furiously whenthe car drew ahead. He looked like a demon to Dot in the half-light--ablack imp mounted on a black mare riding to perdition. She was glad toleave him behind.
But as they drew up before the great house that loomed gaunt and eerie inthe gathering darkness the galloping hoofs drew near again, and beforethey were out of the car Nap was beside them.
He flung himself out of the saddle, with a curt, "Here, Bertie! Take thebrute for me. Mind her teeth! She's in a vile temper."
"What a beast you are!" was Bertie's comment, as he went to thepanting animal.
The valet, Hudson, was waiting to help his master out of the car, but Nappushed him imperiously aside. His quick, lithe movements fascinated Dot.She stood and watched him as he dexterously assisted the heavy, misshapenfigure of his brother to alight. He was wonderfully strong for so slighta man. He seemed compacted of muscle and energy, welded together with acertain fiery grace that made him in some fashion remarkable. He wasutterly different from any other man she had ever seen.
"Will you go first, Miss Waring?" It was Lucas Errol's voice. He leanedon his brother's shoulder, waiting for her.
Nap glanced round at her. She saw his ironical smile for an instant."Miss Waring prefers to wait for Bertie, perhaps," he remarked.
The words stung her, she scarcely knew why, and what had been ahalf-reluctant prejudice before turned to sudden hot antagonism in Dot'sheart. She hated Nap Errol from that moment.
But Lucas laid a quiet hand on her arm, and her resentment died.
"I think Miss
Waring was waiting for me," he said. "Will you let me leanon you, Miss Waring? Steps are always a difficulty to me."
"Of course," she said eagerly. "Do lean hard!"
It occurred to her afterwards that the valet's assistance would have beenmore effectual than hers, and at the top of the steps she glanced back athim. He was immediately behind them, laden with some things he had takenfrom the car. His eyes, as he ascended, were fixed upon Nap, and acurious little thrill of sympathy ran through Dot as she realised thatshe was not the only person who hated him.
As they passed into the great entrance-hall Bertie came springing upbehind them. "I say, can't we have tea here before you go up to see LadyCarfax? It's the cosiest place in the whole house."
A huge fire burned on an open hearth, about which a deep lounge andseveral easy-chairs were arrayed.
"That will be O.K.," said Lucas. "Fix me up on the settee, Nap."
"You had better go and rest in your room," said Nap. "Bertie and MissWaring are accustomed to entertaining each other."
Again Dot felt the sting--this time a tangible one--in his words. He wasevidently in a stinging mood.
She drew back quickly. "I would rather go straight up to Lady Carfaxif I may."
"Oh, I say, don't!" thrust in Bertie with a quick frown. "Lucas, you'llstay, won't you, and have tea with us here?"
"That is my intention," said Lucas, "if Miss Waring will give us thepleasure of her company."
And Dot, though she longed to escape, went forward with him into the glowof the firelight.
She hoped earnestly that Nap would depart, but for some reason Nap wasminded to remain. He settled his brother on the cushions and then flunghimself into a chair on the other side of the fire. Dot was aware withoutlooking at him that he had her under observation; she felt the scrutinyshe could not see, and knew it was malevolent.
Bertie evidently knew it too, for he was scowling savagely in a fashionquite unfamiliar to her. He placed a chair for her close to Lucas.
"I guess we must ask you to do the honours, Miss Waring," the lattersaid. "My mother must be with Lady Carfax."
"Here's an opportunity for Miss Waring to display her charms!" gibed Nap."But doubtless Bertie has been initiated in the arts and wiles oftea-making long before this. It's a bewitching performance, eh, Bertie?"
Bertie growled something unintelligible and turned his back.
"Give him plenty of sugar, Miss Waring," recommended Nap. "He'sremarkably guileless. With a little patience and subtlety on your parthe'll soon come and feed out of your hand. After that, a little femininepersuasion is all that is required to entice the pretty bird into thecage. He's quite a fine specimen; such a lot of gold about him, too! Itwould be a pity to let him escape. There are not many of his sort, Iassure you."
The drawling insolence of the words made Dot quiver all over. She knew byBertie's rigidity of pose that he was furious too, but she did not dareto look at him. She tried to attend to some remark that Lucas made toher, but she only answered at random. She could not take in what he said.
Perhaps he saw her perturbation, for after a moment he turned from her toNap and very deliberately engaged him in conversation, while Bertie,very pale but quite collected, sat down by her and began to talk also.
She did her best to second his efforts, but with Nap's eyes openlymocking her from the other side of the hearth, she found it impossible todivert her thoughts.
So they thought that of her, did they? They thought--that! She felt as ifshe had been publicly weighed in the balances and found wanting. She toldherself passionately that she would never, as long as she lived, speak toNap Errol again. Everyone said he was a bounder, and everyone was right.