Halcyone - Part 17
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Part 17

But after Halcyone had gone in the dusk through the park, the Professor sat in the firelight for a while, and did not ring for lights. He was musing deeply, and his thoughts ran something in this line:

"John must dree his weird. Nothing anyone could say has ever influenced him. If he marries this woman she will eat his soul; having only a sham one of her own, she will devour his. She'll do very well to adorn the London house and feed his friends. He'll find her out in less than a year--it will kill his inspirations. Well, Zeus and all the G.o.ds cannot help a man in his folly. But my business is to see that he does not ensnare the heart of my little girl. If he had waited he could have found her--the one woman with a soul."

Miss Roberta had, unfortunately, a bad attack of rheumatism on Easter Sunday, augmented by a cold, and Halcyone stayed at home to rub her poor knee with hot oil, so she did not see the Wendover party, several of whom came to church. Miss La Sarthe occupied the family pew alone, and was the source of much amus.e.m.e.nt and delight to the smart inhabitants of the outer world.

"Isn't she just too sweet, Cis?" whispered Miss Lutworth into Mrs.

Cricklander's ear. "Can't we get Mr. Derringham to take us over there this afternoon?"

But when the subject was broached later at luncheon by his hostess, John Derringham threw cold water upon the idea. He had stayed behind for a few minutes to renew his acquaintance with the ancient lady, and had given her his arm down the short church path, and placed her with extreme deference in the Shetland pony shay, to the absolute enchantment of Miss Lutworth, who, with Lord Freynault, stood upon the mound of an old forgotten grave, the better to see. It was in the earlier days of motor-cars, and Mrs. Cricklander's fine open Charron created the greatest excitement as it waited by the lych-gate. The two Shetlands c.o.c.ked their ears and showed various signs of nervous interest, and William had all he could do to hold the minute creatures. But Miss La Sarthe behaved with unimpaired dignity, never once glancing in the direction of the great green monster. She got in, a.s.sisted by the respectful churchwarden, and allowed John Derringham to wrap the rug round her knees, and then carefully adjusted the ring of her turquoise-studded whip handle.

"Good day, G.o.ddard," she said with benign condescension to the churchwarden. "And see that Betsy Hodges' child with the whooping-cough gets some of Hester's syrup and is not brought to church again next Sunday." And she nodded a gracious dismissal. Then, turning to John Derringham, she gave him two fingers, while she said with some show of haughty friendliness: "My sister and I will be very pleased to see you if you are staying in this neighborhood, Mr. Derringham, and care to take tea with us one day."

"I shall be more than delighted," he replied, as he bowed with homage and stood aside, because William's face betrayed his anxiety over the fidgety ponies.

Miss La Sarthe turned her head with its pork-pie hat and floating veil, and said with superb tranquillity, "You may drive on now, William." And they rolled off between a lane of respectful, curtseying rustics.

Mrs. Cricklander and Lady Maulevrier had already entered the motor and were surveying the scene with amused interest, while Miss Lutworth and Lord Freynault, chaperoned by Arabella Clinker, were preparing to walk.

It was not more than a mile across the park, and it was a glorious day.

John Derringham joined them.

"I think I will come with you, too," he said. "You take my place, Sir Tedbury. It is only fair you should drive one way."

And so it was arranged, not altogether to the satisfaction of the hostess, who would have preferred to have walked also. However, there was nothing to be done, and so they were whizzed off, while with the tail of her eye Cecilia Cricklander perceived that Lord Freynault had been displaced from Cora's side and was now stalking behind the other pair, beside Arabella Clinker.

"What an extraordinary sight that was," she said to Sir Tedbury Delvine as they went along. "I thought no villagers curtsied any more now in England. That very funny-looking old lady might have been a royalty!"

"It is because she has never had a doubt but that she is--or something higher--complete owner of all these souls," he returned, "that they have not yet begun to doubt it either. They and their forebears have bobbed to the La Sarthe for hundreds of years, and they will go on doing it if this holder of the name lives to be ninety-nine. They would never do so to any new-comer, though, I expect."

"But I am told they have not a penny left, and have sold every acre of the land except the park. Is it not wonderful, Kitty?" Mrs. Cricklander went on, turning to Lady Maulevrier. "I am dying to know them. I hope they will call."

But Sir Tedbury had already chanced to have talked the matter over with John Derringham, because he himself was most anxious to see La Sarthe Chase, which was of deep historical interest, and had incidentally been made aware by that gentleman of the old ladies' views, so he hastily turned the conversation, rather awkwardly, to other things. And a wonder grew in Mrs. Cricklander's mind.

That anyone should not be enchanted to receive her beautiful and sought-after self could not enter her brain, but there was evidently some bar between the acquaintance of herself and her nearest neighbors, and Arabella should be set to find out of what it consisted.

CHAPTER XV

"Do let us go around by the boundary," Miss Lutworth said when they got through the Wendover gates. "I long to see even the park of that exquisite old lady; it must look quite different to anybody else's, and I feel I want an adventure!"

So they struck in towards the haw-haw--the four walking almost abreast.

When they came to beyond the copse, after it touched the Professor's garden, they paused and took in the view. It was unspeakably beautiful from there, rolling away towards the splendid old house, which could only just be distinguished through the giant trees, not yet in leaf. And suddenly, hardly twenty yards from them across the gulf, coming from the gap in Mr. Carlyon's hedge, they saw a tall and very slender mouse-colored figure, as Halcyone emerged on her homeward way--she had run down to see Cheiron when her duties with Miss Roberta were over, and was now going back to lunch.

"Good morning!" called John Derringham, and the four advanced to the very edge of their side, and Halcyone turned and also bordered hers, while she bowed serenely.

"Isn't it a day of the G.o.ds!" he continued. "And may I from across this Stygian lake (there was a little water collected in the haw-haw here from the recent rains) introduce Miss Lutworth to you--and Miss Clinker and Lord Freynault? Miss Halcyone La Sarthe."

Everyone bowed, and Halcyone smiled her sweet, grave smile.

"We would love to jump over--or you come to us," Cora Lutworth said with her frank, friendly charm. "Isn't there any way?"

"I am afraid not," responded Halcyone. "You are across in another world--we live in the shades, this side."

"Remember something about a fellow named Orpheus getting over to fetch his girl"--"gail" Lord Freynault p.r.o.nounced it--"since old John will use Eton cribs in describing the horrid chasm. Can't we sop old Cerberus and somehow manage to swim, if there is no ferryman about?"

"You would certainly be drowned," said Halcyone. "In this place the lake is quite ten inches deep!"

Cora Lutworth was taking in every bit of her with her clever, kindly eyes.

"What a sweet, distinguished violet-under-the-mossy-bank pet of a girl!"

she was saying to herself. "No wonder Mr. Derringham goes to see his Professor! How mad Cis would be! I shan't tell her." And aloud she said:

"You cannot imagine how I am longing to get a nearer peep of your beautiful old house. Do we get a chance further on?"

"No," said Halcyone. "I am so sorry. You branch further off once you have pa.s.sed the closed gate. It was very stupid--the La Sarthe quarreled with the Wendovers a hundred years ago, and it was all closed up then, and these wicked spikes put."

"It is too tantalizing. But won't you walk with us to where we have to part?" Miss Lutworth said, while John Derringham had a sudden longing to turn back and carefully remove certain bits of iron and brick he wot of, and ask this nymph of the woods to take him on to their tree, and tell him more stories about Jason and Medea in that exquisitely refined voice of hers, as she had done once before, long ago. But even though he might not have this joy, he got rather a fine pleasure out of the fact of sharing the secret of the crossing with her, and he had the satisfaction of meeting her soft eyes in one lightning comprehending glance.

They chatted on about the view and the beauties of the neighborhood, and they all laughed often at some sally of Cora's--no one could resist her joyous, bubbling good-fellowship. She had all the sparkle of her clever nation, and the truest, kindest heart. Halcyone had never spoken to another young girl in her life, and felt like a yearling horse--a desire to whinny to a fellow colt and race up and down with him beside the dividing fence of their paddocks. A new light of youth and sweetness came into her pale face.

"I do wish I might ask you to come round by the road," she said, "and see it near, but, as Mr. Derringham knows, my aunts are very old, and one is almost an invalid now, so we never have any visitors at all."

"Of course, we quite understand," said Cora, quickly, touched at once by this simple speech. "But we should so love you to come over to us."

"Alas!" said Halcyone, "it is indeed the Styx."

And here they arrived at the boarded-up gate, where further view was impossible, and from which onwards the lands ceased to join.

"Good-by!" they called to one another, even Arabella Clinker joining in the chorus, while Cora Lutworth ran back to say:

"Some day we'll meet--outside the Styx. Let us get Mr. Derringham to manage it!"

And Halcyone cried a glad "Oh, yes!"

"What a darling! What a perfect darling!" Miss Lutworth said enthusiastically, taking Arabella's arm as they struck rapidly inward and up a knoll. "Did you ever see anything look so like a lady in that impossible old dress? Tell us about her, Mr. Derringham. Does she live with those prehistoric ladies all alone in that haunted house? Could anything be so mysterious and romantic? Please tell us all you know."

"Yes, she does, I believe," John Derringham said. "My old master tells me she never sees or speaks to anyone from one year's end to another. I have only met her very rarely myself."

"Does it not seem too awful?" returned Cora, aghast, thinking of her own merry, enjoyable life, with every whim gratified. "To be so young and attractive and actually buried alive! Don't you think she is a dream, Arabella?"

"I was greatly impressed with her distinction and charm," Miss Clinker said. "I wish we could do something for her to make things brighter."

"Let us ask Cis--" and then Miss Lutworth paused, returning to her first thought--she knew her hostess well. No, it could not bring any pleasure into the life of this slender, lithe English lady with the wonderful Greek name, to be made acquainted with Cecilia Cricklander, who would tear her to pieces without compunction the moment she understood in what direction John Derringham's eyes would probably be cast. He saw Cora's hesitation and understood, and was grateful.