THE BARRIER
A leaden weariness hung upon Bobby in the morning, a weariness so
great that for the first time in many years she would have overslept;
but Matilda, calling to her to make up the fire again, roused her.
She got up and dressed and went downstairs. She took up a cup of tea
to Matilda, since she was awake, before starting upon the usual round
of duties; and then, hearing a step in the yard, she went down to
unlock the door.
She expected to find Cox upon the threshold, though it was somewhat
early still. But it was not Cox who greeted her out of the raw dark
of the winter morning.
"Good morning, Miss Roberta!" said Silas. "I want the keys, please,
and the hot stuff for the hens. Is it ready?"
She gave ground before him, her hand oddly pressed to her heart. He
came in, took the keys from the nail himself, and then passed on to
the kitchen-fire in search of the food.
Bobby followed and joined him there. "You really shouldn't," she
began.
He interrupted her sternly. "Miss Roberta, I am the best judge of
that. Anyhow, we won't stop to discuss it now. You've got something
better to do, and so have I."
He lifted the hot meal off the fire with the words, took up the
wooden spoon from the table, and turned to go.
"Won't you have some tea?" she suggested as he reached the door.
He threw her an abrupt smile over his shoulder. "No, thanks. Mary's
seen to that. Have another cup yourself! I'll be back presently
with the eggs."
He was gone. The door clanged behind him, and Bobby was left
standing before the fire.
"What ever shall I do?" she said. "There's no stopping him."
Which was true. Silas's steam-roller tactics completely outmatched
her subtler methods. To stand in his way was to be flattened out.
It seemed safer to step on one side and leave his progress unopposed.
She took his advice and drank some more tea, which considerably
revived her. When he came in some time later with the eggs, she had
mastered her weariness and was deep in the morning's work.
He set down the basket and looked at her. "Is that how you're going
on all day?" he said.
She was cleaning the grate in the parlour. She glanced up at the
bulky figure filling the doorway without rising from her knees.
"I never mind anything when once the fires are lighted," she said.
"They just make all the difference."
"Then I'll come round and light your fires for you too," said Silas.
She laughed, though he remained serious. "Indeed you won't do
anything more for me! You are already doing much too much. I ought
not to let you do it, only----"
"You can't help it," said Silas, turning on his heel.
It was quite true, but she felt she should not have let it pass
unchallenged He was gone, however, while she was still searching for
a suitable reply.
She returned to her work with more vigour. Somehow the encounter had
done her good, even though she had had the worst of it. She
determined that as soon as Matilda was about again, she would
re-assert her independence.
She went up to call Rosemary at her usual hour, and found her already
up and dressing. The girl's greeting of her was just as loving as
usual, but it seemed to Bobby that the reserve of the past few days
was made almost more palpable in consequence. Or was it her own
state of mind that made her suspicious? She tried to think so as she
gazed at the fresh young face which had so tortured her in her dream.
Not until they were seated at breakfast together did she broach the
subject of her night adventure, and then it was with a curious sense
of reluctance that was almost dread.
"Rosemary darling," she said, "I saw your light burning in the middle
of the night. Did you leave it alight by mistake?"
Rosemary's eyes came straight to hers with unfaltering directness.
"No, I didn't, Aunt Bobby," she said. "I lighted it on purpose."
"Why, darling?" Bobby was aware of a faint note of distress in her
voice, though she tried to keep it normal.
"I didn't feel sleepy," said Rosemary. "It's not much fun lying in
the dark when one is wide awake."
"You shouldn't have been wide awake, dear," said
Bobby. "What was the matter? You weren't startled, were you?"
Rosemary's eyes remained unflinchingly direct, but they seemed to
grow a little darker. "No, I wasn't frightened at anything," she
said. "Why?"
With a conscious effort Bobby made reply. "Because when I tried to
come in to you, I found your door locked."
"Oh!" said Rosemary in a tone of enlightenment. "I thought I heard
something just as I was settling down, but the wind was making such a
noise one couldn't be sure."
"But, darling, the door!" said Bobby almost in a voice of pleading.
"Why was it locked?"
A gleam of revolt shone suddenly in Rosemary's eyes. "Because I
locked it, I suppose," she said with brevity.
Bobby gathered her forces. "I would rather you didn't lock it,
dear," she said quietly. "It is unnecessary and it might be
dangerous. Please don't lock it again!"
Rosemary's eyes took fire. She sat for a moment quite motionless,
then with a hard breath she spoke. "Am I to be denied even privacy,
Aunt Bobby? Do you call that quite fair?"
It was not the words but the tone that told Bobby that a struggle was
before her. She sought to avert it, albeit with a sinking heart.
"You will do as I say, please, Rosemary, or----"
"Or what?" demanded Rosemary.
"Or I shall have to take away the key," said Bobby.
Rosemary stiffened as she sat. Her face went slowly white, but her
eyes remained fiercely alight, flaming.
It was a swift sense of expediency that moved Bobby to continue ere
she could give utterance to the seething rebellion within her. "You
see, darling, it really is a very unreasonable thing to do. Who do
you want to lock out? Surely not me! And I am the only person who
ever enters your room besides yourself."
Again there was pleading in her voice, but she felt even as she spoke
that she spoke in vain. The gathering storm of revolt could scarcely
be quelled by any but stern measures at this stage. She summoned all
her strength for a battle. And then to her amazement she found it
was not needed.
Rosemary spoke, almost under her breath. "You know best, Aunt
Bobby," she said, and with the words she dropped her lids over those
burning eyes and resumed her breakfast.
It was the strangest submission that she had ever accorded to Bobby's
authority, and for the moment the latter was almost breathless with
surprise. She watched her covertly as she resumed her own meal, but
she detected no faintest sign of emotion in Rosemary's bearing and
behaviour. She acted precisely as though there had been no
discussion of any sort between them, and to Bobby who so well knew
her tempestuous moods there appeared to be something ominous in her
calm acceptance of defeat. Though she realized that the struggle was
definitely over, she could not feel any genuine relief. Somehow it
seemed to her that a battle, however arduous, would have been more
satisfactory in the end.
When the meal was over, she put her arm round Rosemary and kissed
her. Instantly she was aware of a curious sense of withdrawal wholly
indefinite in the girl. Rosemary accepted her embrace, even returned
it, but there was no spontaneity in her action. Bobby felt chilled
to the heart, though there was nothing whatever in her conduct to
which to take exception.
Perhaps she was getting over-critical, she told herself as she went
about her work. Perhaps she expected too much. But the fact
remained, and could not be ignored, that Rosemary had somehow made
her feel that a barrier even stronger than the oak door upstairs had
been raised against her, and no effort of hers would avail to break
it down.
The day was grey and very cold. There was a hint of snow in the air,
and no glint of sunshine penetrated the clouds. The coming of Dr.
Bellamy was the only bright spot in the general monotony. Bobby
welcomed him because he cheered Matilda, who was never irritable or
difficult in his presence. He was essentially a cheery individual of
perennial youth and vigour in spite of the fact that he had been
twice widowed. Bobby never had much time for him, but Matilda was
wont to declare that he was the only person worth knowing in the
wilderness in which they lived.
He spent some time cracking jokes with her upstairs while Bobby was
preparing the lunch, and when he descended he told her that her
sister would soon be able to come down again.
"You'll have to take care of her," he said. "Don't let her do too
much! You energetic people who keep going all day don't always
realize that it isn't everyone who can."
Bobby smiled upon him--such a smile as she would have bestowed upon
an over-intelligent child. "Oh, I'm not quite so energetic as that,"
she said.
Dr. Bellamy peered shortsightedly about him. "And where is
Rosemary?" he said.
"I think she is in the stable," said Bobby. "She is busy outside,
anyway."
He rubbed his hands together. "Splendid, Miss Roberta! You have a
wonderful gift for making people work. And how goes the farm?
Flourishing as usual?"
"Much as usual," smiled Bobby.
He went to the window that looked across the yard. "Hullo! Hullo!
A visitor! Young Hudson, isn't it? Aha! Miss Rosemary has found a
helper!"
Bobby glanced out. The stable-door was open, and just within it she
saw a grey figure which she also recognized as that of Percy Hudson,
though his back was towards her. Rosemary was out of sight, but a
shout of merry laughter testified to her presence inside, and Bobby
turned away with a sharp pang. She had not heard her laugh like that
for weeks.
Dr. Bellamy continued his facetious remarks. "You'll have to look
after that young lady. She's getting to the saucy stage. And she's
got looks enough to trail all the unmarried men in the county at her
heels. Which reminds me. The new Lord Ravencombe is expected down,
I hear, and he is one of them. He has only just arrived in England.
No, he won't be staying at the Abbey. The place is still shut up,
and it'll want some rebuilding before it's habitable. But rumour has
it that he is going to take it in hand. It'll brighten things up
considerably locally if he does."
"It's five miles away," observed Bobby. "I hardly think it would
make much difference to Stapleton."
"Don't you be too sure!" laughed Dr. Bellamy. "The property includes
the greater part of Bode. You had better secure his custom for eggs,
my dear lady. Yours are the only hens I know that do their duty in
the winter."
She laughed with him. It was his chief recommendation in her eyes
that he never expected anything else. She sometimes thought that he
prided himself on being able to raise a laugh wherever he went,
though he did not always know how he did it. One thing was certain.
In a social sense he never required more than half her attention.
"Well, well," he said, "I must be going. You keep an eye on that
young fledgling of yours or you'll have her spreading her wings
before you know where you are!"
Bobby bade him a smiling farewell, and wondered as she did so if he
had ever made an original remark in his life.
After letting him out at the front door, she turned to the back to
summon Rosemary to lunch, and met her just coming in.
"Was that Percy Hudson I saw just now?" she asked. "Won't he come
in?"
Rosemary entered. Her face was all aglow with the exertion of
sweeping the stable, and even Bobby was for an instant startled by
the sheer beauty of her. She had an arresting look. Yet her voice
sounded wholly indifferent as she made reply.
"Yes, it was Percy. He's gone again. He was passing this way and
looked in."
Careless words spoken with the utmost carelessness while she surveyed
herself in one of Bobby's shining dish-covers! Why did Bobby's
anxious heart sink a little lower as she heard them?
"What a guy I look!" was Rosemary's conclusion. "I'd better go and
get decent. I'll be down by the time you've taken up Aunt Matilda's
tray."
She departed, and Bobby stifled a sigh. Was it merely youth, or was
it artifice, that had raised that barrier against her?