MRS. KEITH ENTERS THE FIELD
A day or two after the dance Mrs. Chudleigh was sitting with Lieutenant
Walters in a recess of the big hall when she heard a car coming up the
drive. It stopped, a voice she thought familiar rose from the
vestibule, and her face hardened as Foster came in with Mrs. Keith and
Millicent Graham. Then Mrs. Foster, who did not notice that there was
anybody else about, moved forward to meet the newcomers and led them
through the hall.
"You looked surprised," Walters remarked when the others had
disappeared. "Didn't you know these people were coming?"
"I think you meant displeased, and you were right," said Mrs.
Chudleigh, who was capable of boldly correcting a mistake. "We made
such a pleasant friendly party here that I felt the presence of anybody
else would be rather a nuisance." She laughed as she went on: "Of
course it was a very selfish view to take, especially as I know Mrs.
Keith, and, now I recollect, Mrs. Foster did say some friends were
coming down, though she didn't tell me who they were."
Walters left her by and by, but she sat still to think. It was most
likely by chance that Mrs. Keith had decided to visit Hazlehurst just
then, but there was a possibility that it was due to design. During
their conversation on the Canadian river boat she had incautiously
mentioned that she was going to Shropshire, and Mrs. Keith was an
intimate friend of the Challoners. Mrs. Chudleigh had no wish to be
subjected to the keen old woman's observation, but after all Mrs. Keith
had no knowledge of her plans and would accordingly find it difficult
to interfere with them. Still, she must be careful and avoid any cause
for suspicion.
Tea was being brought in when Mrs. Keith and Millicent returned to the
hall and for a few moments Mrs. Chudleigh sat watching the girl. The
house was old and the dark panelling formed a good background for
Millicent's delicate beauty, which was of the blonde type. Mrs.
Chudleigh had to admit that she was pretty, and though she tried to
think of her as unformed, there was something in her face that hinted
at strength of character. Foster, who was as a rule indifferent to
women's society, obviously found her interesting, for he was talking to
her with animation, and Mrs. Chudleigh realized that the girl was
capable of exciting the admiration of well-matured men. For all that,
she did not consider her a dangerous rival, because she knew there was
a cold, calculating vein in Sedgwick which would prevent his indulging
unduly in romantic weaknesses. Self-interest bound him to her and she
tried to overlook his occasional sentimental vagaries. Indeed, the
indifference he now and then displayed strengthened his hold on her.
Then she rose to meet Mrs. Keith, who was coming her way.
"We shall have an opportunity of renewing a pleasant acquaintance," she
said. "You are looking well, and Miss Graham is as fresh and pretty as
when I last saw her."
Mrs. Keith glanced at Millicent. "Yes," she said, "I think so, and she
is really a very nice girl." Then her eyes twinkled with dry
amusement. "I'm not sure that you expected to see me."
It was obvious to Mrs. Chudleigh that she had betrayed her feelings on
her companion's arrival. Nothing seemed to escape Mrs. Keith's
attention.
"I did not," she admitted. "Indeed, I'll confess that I was somewhat
startled when you came in. You see, I imagined that you were still in
Canada."
"I didn't stay very long after you. One or two things turned up that
brought me back."
"But you have no family ties, have you?"
"I have some old friends. Now and then I'm vain enough to believe that
one of them needs me."
As they spoke Mrs. Foster joined them.
"Colonel Challoner is eager to see you, Margaret," she interposed. "He
excused himself for not coming this evening because Greythorpe is
staying with him for a day or two, but he made me promise to bring you
over to-morrow." She turned to Mrs. Chudleigh. "You must join us.
Have you met Greythorpe? He's down here now and then."
It seemed to Mrs. Chudleigh that fortune was favouring her. After a
long parliamentary career during which he had been distinguished by his
sound sense and the moderation of his views, Greythorpe had been
entrusted with an office in connexion with the administration of
Colonial affairs. What was more to the purpose, he seemed to be a
friend of Colonel Challoner's, whose assistance Mrs. Chudleigh thought
she had means of securing in the plan she was working out.
"I should be delighted," she declared. "I don't know Mr. Greythorpe
except by reputation and, as it happened, I hadn't an opportunity of
speaking to Colonel Challoner on the evening when he was here, though I
once met him."
Seeing that Mrs. Keith was watching her, she was glad of the chance of
explaining that she had not renewed her acquaintance with the Colonel.
As she had now spent a fortnight with Mrs. Foster, who knew him well,
this should disarm any suspicion that Mrs. Keith might entertain.
"I don't know why we're standing when there's room for all of us in the
recess," said their hostess, who led the way towards it, and they
dropped into casual conversation when tea was brought them.
The evening passed pleasantly, for Mrs. Chudleigh who possessed some
charm of manner, exerted herself to be agreeable to the newcomers.
Nevertheless she was looking forward to the next day's visit with
eagerness and wondering how she could best make use of the opportunity.
At Sandymere, three miles away, Colonel Challoner spent the evening in
his library with his guest. It was a large and simply furnished room,
but there was a tone of austere harmony in all its appointments. The
dark oak table, rows of old books in faded leather bindings, antique
lamps, and straight-backed chairs were in keeping with the severe lines
of the sombre panels and the heavy, square moulding of the ceiling.
Two or three wax candles in an old silver holder stood on a small table
by the wide hearth on which a cheerful wood fire burned, but most of
the room was shadowy.
The sense of empty space and gloom had, however, no effect upon the two
elderly men who sat with a cigar box and decanter in front of them,
engaged in quiet, confidential talk. Challoner was white-haired,
straight, and spare, with aquiline features and piercing eyes;
Greythorpe broad-shouldered and big, with a heavy-jawed, thoughtful
face. They had been fast friends since they had met a number of years
ago when Challoner was giving evidence before a parliamentary
commission.
"So you have not heard from Blake after the day he came here,"
Greythorpe said by and by.
"Never directly," Challoner replied. "On the whole, it is better so,
though I regret it now and then. A weakness on my part, perhaps, but I
was fond of Dick and expected much from him. However, it seems that
Bertram and Margaret Keith met him in Montreal, and she is coming here
to-morrow."
"A very sad affair." Greythorpe mused. "A promising career cut short
and a life ruined by a moment's failure of nerve. The price paid for
it was a heavy one. Still, I found the matter difficult to understand,
because, so far as I could tell, there was nothing in Blake's character
that made such a failure possible. Then it's known that personal
courage was always a characteristic of your family."
"His mother was my sister. You have seen her portrait."
Greythorpe made a sign of assent. He knew the picture of the woman
with the proud, determined face.
"And the other side? Was the strain equally virile?" he asked.
"You shall judge," said Challoner. "You and Margaret Keith are the
only people to whom I have ever spoken freely of these things. I am
sure of your discretion and sympathy."
He crossed the floor and opening a cabinet came back with a photograph,
which he gave to his companion.
"Dick's father. He was famous as a daring rider across an Irish,
stone-wall country, and was killed when taking a dangerous leap."
Greythorpe studied the face, which was of Irish type, with bold eyes in
which a reckless twinkle showed. On the whole, it suggested an ardent
and somewhat irresponsible temperament.
"No sign of weakness there," he said. "Though he might be careless and
headstrong, this man would ride straight and stand fire. I can't hint
at an explanation of his son's disaster, but I imagine that one might
have been found if it had been diligently searched for. My opinion is
that there's something hidden, but whether it will ever come out is
another matter. But your nephew hasn't forfeited my liking. If I can
ever be of any service."
"Thanks; I know," said Challoner. "It looks as if he meant to cut
loose from all of us, and while I'm sorry for this I can't say that
he's wrong or that it's not a proper feeling. And now I think we'll
let the subject drop." He lighted a cigar before he resumed: "You look
rather jaded, and I understand that your responsibilities have been
added to. What have you done about the African appointment you
mentioned when last here? To be candid, I never thought the man lately
invalided home was in his right place."
"He was hardly decided enough," Greythorpe answered thoughtfully. "So
far, we haven't filled the post, though two or three names have been
suggested. We have a man out there now who has shown some enterprise
and ability, and are inclined to leave him informally in charge while
we consider things."
"In view of our friendly relations with the French, one would imagine
that the appointment needs careful thought. It's easy for undesirable
disputes to crop up, when you have turbulent native subjects to keep in
hand along another power's frontier."
"That's true. Our territory adjoins theirs for some distance, but, as
it happens, our respective fields of influence outside the recognized
boundaries have not been very clearly defined. Now there's reason to
believe that part of the unclaimed neutral belt would be valuable to
us, and I needn't point out that the Imperial expansionists have made
their influence felt."
"It's a pity the Government seems able to resist it," Challoner drily
remarked.
Greythorpe smiled, for he and his host took different sides in party
politics, though they often agreed on points that concerned their
country's foreign policy.
"I think they're wise in their moderation, but I've had plain hints
about the desirability of extending our influence in Africa, which is
why we attach some importance to the appointment in question. Its
holder must be a man of tact, able to keep on friendly terms with the
French officials, and yet bold enough to secure us any advantage that
may offer in the unoccupied belt. In fact, though the post is not
highly paid, he must have exceptional talent."
"Men of that kind are hard to pick up."
"Very true. None of the candidates quite satisfies us, but when we
have investigated their qualifications fully I may ask you what you
think. It would be premature just now."
"Always glad to be of service," Challoner replied. "But the men you'll
have to choose among have grown up since my day."
"That is not important. It's largely a question of personal character,
and you're a judge of that when it must be coupled with military skill."
Challoner smiled in a sombre manner. "I used to think so, but I've
come to doubt it. I made a grave mistake about my nephew. However,
there's a matter you were speaking of this morning and a point has
since occurred to me."
Greythorpe said he would be glad to hear it, and they talked over the
subject until they went to bed.
The next afternoon was bright and mild, and soon after Mrs. Foster and
her party arrived Challoner offered to show them his winter shrubbery.
"I have lately planted a number of new specimens which you and Margaret
have not seen," he said. "Your friends may be interested to learn what
effects can be got by a judicious mingling of bushes remarkable for the
beauty of their berries and branch-colouring among the stereotyped
evergreens."
They went out and Mrs. Chudleigh thought the front of the old house
with its mullioned windows, heavy, pillared coping, and angular chimney
stacks, made a picturesque background for the smooth-clipped yew hedges
and broad sweep of lawn. Behind it a wood of tall beeches raised their
naked boughs in pale, intricate tracery against the soft blue sky. The
shrubs proved worth inspection, for some were rich with berries of hues
that varied from crimson to lilac and the massed twigs of others formed
blotches of strong colouring. The grass was dry and lighted by gleams
of sunshine, the air only cold enough to make movement pleasant, and
Mrs. Chudleigh felt content as she paced a sheltered walk with Colonel
Challoner, whom she unobtrusively studied.
He looked rather stern and worn, and his soft grey tweed showed the
leanness of his figure, but his expression and bearing indicated force
of will. In his conversation with women he was marked by an air of
old-fashioned gallantry, and though his wit was now and then ironical
his companion found him attractive. She had cleverly appropriated and
separated him from the rest soon after they entered the garden, but she
was too clever to approach too soon the object she had in view. First
of all, she must ingratiate herself with him, and she saw that he liked
her society, though she made one or two mistakes about the shrubs in
which she professed a keen interest.
"I'm afraid you don't quite grasp my meaning," he said with a smile.
"It's a difference between varieties, not between species. They are
not the same thing."
"I should have remembered," Mrs. Challoner [Transcriber's note:
Chudleigh?] replied. "I must own that I'm not a botanist, but one can
appreciate the beauty of plants without knowing all about them.
Perhaps the same applies to beauty in any form."
"No doubt. Harmonies of outline, and concords of colour make an
unconscious appeal, but in Nature's products knowledge adds to
admiration. The deeper you probe, the more you reveal, until you come
to mysteries beyond our solving." He added with some dryness: "It's
often otherwise with man's work; knowledge means disillusion. You see
how the trick is done."
"Must it always be a trick?"
"Oh! no; not necessarily. There is a sincerity of effort that leads to
lasting and beautiful work, but perhaps it's not common."
"I'm afraid you're a pessimist."
"I wouldn't like to think so, but I have lived a long time and insisted
on using my eyes, even when clearsightedness may not have been a
benefit. There's a penalty attached to the habit of close observation;
one sees things that hurt."
He spoke with dry humour, but his words had their effect on his
companion, who was by no means philosophical. When she studied human
weaknesses it was with the object of turning them to her advantage, but
the shrewd, upright soldier saw them as things to avoid or recognize
with scorn. He, however, plucked a bunch of crimson berries which he
gave her.
"This," he said, "is in my opinion an exceptionally beautiful bush.
Mrs. Keith sent it me from the Tyrol some years ago."
"You are old friends then?"
"Our friendship is of forty years standing, which I should imagine is a
severe test, but in many ways we are alike, and Margaret Keith knows
enough about me to make allowances. We are both well-seasoned and
strong-willed, and sometimes we differ, but I must confess that
whenever the point has been one of importance time has proved her
right."
Mrs. Chudleigh looked up at him, smiling. "That is a handsome
admission, because I shouldn't imagine you easily changed your mind."
"No; as one grows older one's ideas are apt to fall into a groove. It
requires an effort to force them out of it."
She said nothing for a few minutes, though his confession had its
significance, since she must sooner or later persuade him to abandon
one fixed idea.
"After all, none of us find that easy," she remarked.
He glanced across the lawn, where Millicent was talking to Greythorpe.
"That girl has a very attractive face. I don't merely mean that it's
pretty."
"What do you call it then?"
He seemed to ponder. "I think I could best say it looks untainted,
though that is rather vague. There's purity in it, by which I don't
mean the guilelessness of inexperience."
"That could hardly be, considering who Miss Graham's father was, and
that she has earned her living for some years."
There was a hint of surprise in the look Challoner gave her and she saw
that she had made a mistake.
"A few people have natures which can't be spoiled," he said. "To them
knowledge brings pity or shrinking instead of temptation. I think Miss
Graham is to be numbered among these, and she is in good hands with my
old friend."
Two or three minutes afterwards, Mrs. Keith resolutely crossed the lawn
towards them, but her determined expression softened as she approached
Challoner.
"Do you know that I feel neglected?" she said. "Where are those
American azaleas you promised to show me?"
Challoner made her an apologetic bow. "Have I been remiss? I saw you
with Greythorpe, and understood you found him interesting."
"I've nothing against the man, and he never bores one, but he's a
friend of yesterday by comparison; it's only six years since I first
met him."
"Ah!" said Challoner; "the old ties are strongest."
Mrs. Keith insisted on examining the azaleas, though they were dry and
leafless, and Mrs. Chudleigh, seeing no further opportunity of a quiet
talk with Challoner, left them. When she had gone, Mrs. Keith looked
at her companion with a twinkle.
"Well," she said, "what do you think of Mrs. Chudleigh?"
"You'll allow me to say that I find her charming? It's a comprehensive
word."
"And means anything or nothing. But I understand. You're often only
conventional when you think yourself gallant."
"It's possible, but what would you have me say? She's attractive, a
pleasant talker, and I think intelligent."
"Highly intelligent," Mrs. Keith remarked pointedly "Do you think she's
to be trusted?"
"It doesn't enter into the question. I don't see that either of us is
required to trust her."
"I'm inclined to think that's fortunate," Mrs. Keith rejoined.
For the next half hour she kept Challoner at her side and then left him
with Mrs. Foster. It was hard to resist Margaret Keith when she had
made up her mind, and Challoner had no wish to do so. Moreover he was
glad to talk to Mrs. Foster, whom he liked, but he had other guests to
whom he owed some attention and he felt as if he were being gently but
firmly kept away from them. Mrs. Chudleigh and Millicent, however,
seemed to be content with Greythorpe's society, and finding it
difficult to leave Mrs. Foster he acquiesced.
Presently she suggested that he should show her friends his pictures,
but he said that as it was near sunset and the gallery was badly
lighted it would be better if she brought her party back in a day or
two. Having promised to do so she summoned the others, and they were
driven home.