The Missioner - Part 6
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Part 6

"You will go to the woman at Onetree farm, I forget her name, and say that I desire to take her rooms myself from to-morrow, or as soon as possible. I will pay her for them, but I do not wish that young man to be taken in by any of my tenants. You will perhaps make that known."

"I will do so," he declared. "I hope he will have the good sense to leave the neighbourhood."

"I trust so," Wilhelmina replied.

She turned away to speak once more to the man on her other side, and did not address Stephen Hurd again. He watched her covertly, with tingling pulses, as she devoted herself to her neighbour--the Lord-Lieutenant of the county. He considered himself a judge of the s.e.x, but he had had few opportunities even of admiring such women as the mistress of Thorpe. He watched the curve of her white neck with its delicate, satin-like skin, the play of her features, the poise of her somewhat small, oval head. He admired the slightly wearied air with which she performed her duties and accepted the compliments of her neighbour. "A woman of mysteries" some one had once called her, and he realized that it was the mouth and the dark, tired eyes which puzzled those who attempted to cla.s.sify her. What a triumph--to bring her down to the world of ordinary women, to drive the weariness away, to feel the soft touch, perhaps, of those wonderful arms! He was a young man of many conquests, and with a sufficiently good idea of himself. The thought was like wine in his blood. If only it were possible!

He relapsed into a day-dream, from which he was aroused only by the soft flutter of gowns and laces as the women rose to go. There was a momentary disarrangement of seats. Gilbert Deyes, who was on the other side of the table, rose, and carrying his gla.s.s in his hand, came deliberately round to the vacant seat by the young man's side. In his evening clothes, the length and gauntness of his face and figure seemed more noticeable than ever. His skin was dry, almost like parchment, and his eyes by contrast appeared unnaturally bright. His new neighbour noticed, too, that the gla.s.s which he carried so carefully contained nothing but water.

"I will come and talk to you for a few minutes, if I may," Deyes said.

"I leave the Church and agriculture to hobn.o.b. Somehow I don't fancy that as a buffer I should be a success."

Young Hurd smiled amiably. He was more than a little flattered.

"The Archdeacon," he remarked, "is not an inspiring neighbour."

Deyes lit one of his own cigarettes and pa.s.sed his case.

"I have found the Archdeacon very dull," he admitted--"a privilege of his order, I suppose. By the bye, you are having a dose of religion from a new source hereabouts, are you not?"

"You mean this young missioner?" Hurd inquired doubtfully.

Deyes nodded.

"I was with our hostess when he came up to ask for the loan of a barn to hold services in. A very queer sort of person, I should think?"

"I haven't spoken to him," Hurd answered, "but I should think he's more or less mad. I can understand mission and Salvation Army work and all that sort of thing in the cities, but I'm hanged if I can understand any one coming to Thorpe with such notions."

"Our hostess is annoyed about it, I imagine," Deyes remarked.

"She seems to have taken a dislike to the fellow," Hurd admitted. "She was speaking to me about him just now. He is to be turned out of his lodgings here."

Gilbert Deyes smiled. The news interested him.

"Our hostess is practical in her dislikes," he remarked.

"Why not?" his neighbour answered. "The place belongs to her."

Deyes watched for a moment the smoke from his cigarette, curling upwards.

"The young man," he said thoughtfully, "impressed me as being a person of some determination. I wonder whether he will consent to accept defeat so easily."

The agent's son scarcely saw what else there was for him to do.

"There isn't anywhere round here," he remarked, "where they would take him in against Miss Thorpe-Hatton's wishes. Besides, he has nowhere to preach. His coming here at all was a huge mistake. If he's a sensible person he'll admit it."

Deyes nodded as he rose to his feet and lounged towards the door with the other men.

"Play bridge?" he asked his companion, as they crossed the hall.

"A little," the young man answered, "for moderate stakes."

They entered the drawing-room, and Deyes made his way to a secluded corner, where Lady Peggy sat scribbling alone in a note-book.

"My dear Lady Peggy," he inquired, "whence this exceptional industry?"

She closed the book and looked up at him with twinkling eyes.

"Well, I didn't mean to tell a soul until it was finished," she declared, "but you've just caught me. I've had such a brilliant idea.

I'm going to write a Society Encyclopaedia!"

Deyes looked at her solemnly.

"A Society Encyclopaedia!" he repeated uncertainly. "'Pon my word, I'm not quite sure that I understand."

She motioned him to sit down by her side.

"I'll explain," she said. "You know we're all expected to know something about everything nowadays, and it's such a bore reading up things. I'm going to compile a little volume of definitions. I shall sell it at a guinea a copy, pay all my debts, and become quite respectable again."

Deyes shook his head. His att.i.tude was scarcely sympathetic.

"My dear Lady Peggy, what nonsense!" he declared. "Respectable, indeed!

I call it positively pandering to the middle cla.s.ses!"

Lady Peggy looked doubtful.

"It is a horrid word, isn't it?" she admitted, "but it would be lovely to make some money. Of course, I haven't absolutely decided how to spend it yet. It does seem rather a waste, doesn't it, to pay one's debts, but think of the luxury of feeling one could do it if one wanted to!"

"There's something in that," Deyes admitted. "But an encyclopaedia! My dear Lady Peggy, you don't know what you're talking about. I've got one somewhere, I know. It came in a van, and it took two of the men to unload it."

Lady Peggy laughed softly.

"Oh! I don't mean that sort, of course," she declared. "I mean just a little gilt-edged text book, bound in morocco, you know, with just those things in it we're likely to run up against. Radium, for instance. Now every one's talking about radium. Do you know what radium is?"

Deyes swung his eyegla.s.s carefully by its black riband.

"Well," he admitted, "I've a sort of idea, but I'm not very good at definitions."

"Of course not," Lady Peggy declared triumphantly. "When it comes to the point, you see what a good idea mine is. You turn to my textbook," she added, turning the pages over rapidly, "and there you are. Radium! 'A hard, rare substance, invented by Mr. Gillette to give tone to his bachelor parties.' What do you think of that?"

"Wonderful!" Deyes declared solemnly. "Where do you get your information from?"

"Oh! I poke about in dictionaries and things, and ask every one questions," Lady Peggy declared airily. "Would you like to hear some more?"

"Our hostess is beckoning to me," Deyes answered, rising. "I expect she wants some bridge."

"I'm on," Lady Peggy declared cheerfully. "Whom shall we get for a fourth?"

"Wilhelmina has found him already," Deyes declared. "It's the new young man, I think."