HESTER EARLE'S entertainment promised to prove as successful as the
other had been, for a clear moon hung low above the hillside when Tony
drove Violet Wayne and her mother to Low Wood down the Northrop valley.
The night was pleasantly warm, and the murmur of the river which slid in
and out of the mist wisps in the hollow beneath the white road rose
faintly musical out of the silence. Beyond the long hedgerows the
stubble lay steeped in silvery light save where the long shadows lay
black as ebony in the wake of the gleaming sheaves. A smell of
honeysuckle drifted out from the blackness of a coppice they flitted
through, and Tony turned with a little laugh to the girl beside him,
while the clip-clop of the hoofs rang amidst the trees.
"I wonder if you and I are thinking of the same thing," he said. "It
happened just about this hour a year ago, and it was such another
night."
His voice had a faint thrill in it, and Violet laughed softly as she
glanced at her left hand.
"You were horribly nervous that evening, Tony," she said. "I don't think
I ever mentioned it, but when you put the ring on it scarred my finger.
That might have had a significance with superstitious people."
Tony glanced over his shoulder, and saw that Mrs. Wayne, who sat behind
them, was apparently interested in something her companion was saying.
"I think that was quite natural," he said lightly. "You see, the
situation was disconcertingly novel to me."
"So you told me!" said the girl with a little laugh. "If I remember, you
laid some stress upon the fact. It was also a proof of my credulity that
I believed you."
It was one of Tony's disadvantages that he was now and then unduly
sensitive, for the deception he had been guilty of on the night in
question was by comparison trifling. Still, he remembered with
unpleasant distinctness another incident of a somewhat similar
description, in which it was a little brooch that figured and not an
engagement ring, and the red lips he had stooped to were not those of
Violet Wayne. Tony could recall their tempting curve, and the gleam in
the dark eyes that met his own, as well as the little lodge garden that
was very still and shady that drowsy afternoon. It was perhaps the
memory of it which made him flick the horse viciously with the whip.
Then he felt that his companion's eyes were fixed upon him.
"The brute is afraid of shadows," he said.
Violet turned her eyes on him, and there was a curious little smile in
them. "I wonder if the complaint is infectious. He goes steadily with
me," she said. "Tony, you haven't the hands you had."
Tony flushed visibly, for the moonlight was on his face now they had
left the copse behind, and he remembered what had passed between him and
the girl in a room at Northrop the night Godfrey Palliser died.
"Well," he said a trifle dryly, "if you are right it's due to worry,
which, as everybody knows, never did agree with me. While agricultural
property brings in what it does just now, keeping everything straight at
Northrop isn't quite so easy as some folks seem to fancy."
"Still, the sale of that land to the electrical company and the ground
rent you are getting from the other concern should simplify it," said
the girl.
"You can't quite understand these affairs"; and Tony, who raised the
whip, let it drop again.
Violet once more looked at him steadily, and her voice was low as she
said, "If they were explained to me I think I could, but we will let
that pass. What you said a little while ago reminds me of the weeks that
followed the night you put that ring on. You had more cause for anxiety--
and yet we had no cares then."
"No," said Tony. "I will remember those weeks while I live. Nothing
could take them away from me."
"And now there is a difference! A little shadow that dims the
brightness. Tony, you feel it, too?"
The man, who did not answer, laid both hands on the reins, for, and he
recognized the significance of it, they swung round a bend of the road
into sight of Appleby's inheritance just then. A pile of harsh brickwork
rose in front of them, jarring upon the harmonies of the night; there
was a ringing of hammers, and their eyes were dazzled by the glare of a
great light under which a swarm of bent black figures were toiling. The
horse broke into a gallop, the dog-cart jolted furiously, and for five
anxious minutes Tony, who set his lips, dragged at the reins. Then, as
the startled beast was forced into a trot again, he laughed petulantly.
"You are a little fanciful, Violet," he said. "I have not been quite up
to my usual form lately, and singing at these confounded concerts
worries me. Hester will keep me busy, too, and I shall scarcely get a
moment near you."
Now Violet Wayne was seldom troubled by trifling jealousies, but she was
a little anxious about Tony, and watched him as she said, "Your duties
seemed to consist in entertaining Miss Clavier on the last occasion!"
The color showed in Tony's forehead, but it was the vague apprehension
in his face that astonished his companion, who noticed the sudden
tightening of his fingers on the reins. Still, the only answer she
caught was an indistinct "Confound the woman!"
Violet made no comment, for she had noticed already that the anxieties
Tony had evidently decided on concealing from her were affecting his
temper, and when five minutes later they rattled up the Low Wood avenue
there was no longer any opportunity for questions. Tony had contrived to
arrive just as the entertainment was commencing, and Hester Earle
promptly despatched him to the performers' room.
The long windows were wide open, and the soft night air flowed in with
the faint scent of flowers, and a murmur of voices from the specially
invited audience Miss Earle had bestowed in the tennis green, which was
sunk a few feet on one side below the level of the sweep of lawn. Tennis
was not a game she was fond of, and she had pacified the gardener by
placing the chair legs on boards. Tony could see the shadowy mass of
humanity showing black against a dazzling glare, for the big oxyhydrogen
lights he had provided were then blazing in front of the proscenium,
which had been extemporized on the verge of the higher level. The path
that led to it wound along the edge of a tall shrubbery where colored
lights blinked here and there amidst the dusky leaves.
He was never certain afterwards as to whom he talked with or what he
said, though he surmised that his observations had not been especially
apposite, for some of those about him appeared a trifle astonished, and
two of them laughed. Tony was somewhat apt to lose his head when brought
face to face with a difficulty, and the fact that Lucy Davidson was
sitting a few yards away disconcerted him. A glance at his programme
showed him that she was to figure in two pieces of mimicry instead of
dancing, and she was dressed simply and tastefully, but while the room
was crowded there were only two very young men in her vicinity, and that
fact with something in their laughter seemed to differentiate their
companion from the rest of the company. Tony, however, fancied that they
were favored with scanty encouragement from the girl. She looked at him
once, but Tony turned his head away, and it was not until he was about
to go out that he felt himself compelled to speak to her.
"The others will take a lead from you, and those young asses are only
making the thing more unpleasant for the girl," said a man he was
talking to.
Tony said nothing. He could think of no excuse, but remembering what
Violet had mentioned he shrank from the encounter. The good-natured
committee-man's meaning had been perfectly plain to him, and he knew
that he could save the girl the unpleasantness of being met with chilly
aloofness or undue familiarity. His disposition was also a kindly one,
and the decision that she must be left to fight her own battles caused
him a little flush of confusion. As it happened, she saw it, and a
portentous sparkle showed in her dark eyes. Tony noticed this, and
remembered that weak complaisance had once placed him under the thumb of
keeper Davidson. He did not mean to repeat the blunder, and his fears
made him slightly venomous.
"I think you have met Mr. Anthony Palliser already, Miss Clavier," said
his companion.
Tony knew that every eye in the room was upon him, and that his words
would not be lost, but he felt he could not afford to be gracious, and
while he hesitated the girl rose up and made him a little curtsey with
quiet ironical insolence.
"I have had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Palliser--once or twice," she
said in a voice that was intended to reach the rest.
Tony stood still a moment fingering his watch chain, and looking down at
her with something his masculine companion had never seen there before
in his face. It almost suggested vindictive cruelty, but he murmured a
conventional word or two that was scarcely audible, and passed on with
the slightest of inclinations. There was also a little silence when he
went out, and the color faded a trifle in Miss Clavier's face, leaving
her cheeks alone red, while a gleam that implied a good deal crept into
her eyes.
Tony, however, sang brilliantly when his turn came a few minutes later.
He had at last made a decided stand, and felt a trifle exhilarated by
the novelty of it. Still, he was without stability, and it was much
against his wishes that, wandering about between the songs after
spending some time with Nettie Harding, he met Miss Clavier again. He
had just seated himself upon the sloping bank of turf not far from the
stage when he became aware that a seat above him was occupied, and
glancing round at a sound saw the girl looking down on him. Then he
would have turned away, but she stopped him with a little derisive
laugh.
"Get up, Tony, and come and sit beside me," she said.
Tony rose, but noticing that one or two colored lights which hung from
the branches of a copper beech above them rendered the seat visible
stood still.
"To be frank, I would sooner be excused," he said. "After the little
exhibition in the green-room it's a trifle difficult to understand why
you want me."
"You deserved it! A word or two wouldn't have cost you anything, and I
wanted you to keep those boys away."
"One would have fancied that you were quite capable of fighting your own
battles."
The girl made a curious little gesture. "I think you are taking the
wrong way," she said. "Now I don't want very much from you to-night, but
I don't like being left out in the cold. You see, I am not accustomed to
it, and you could have made this evening a good deal pleasanter to me."
She, however, blundered when she said to-night. Tony's fears had made
him brutal, and it is the terror of the unknown that grows most
oppressive. He did not know what she wanted, and it had unfortunately
never dawned on him that she might, after all, want very little, and
have had no hand in Davidson's scheme of extortion.
"Your meaning is tolerably plain, but I have been under the screw once,"
he said. "Now, I don't wish to rake up anything that would be painful,
but you know just as well as I do that if I posed as an old friend of
yours it would strengthen your hand. You will excuse me putting it
plainly, but that is just what I don't intend to do."
A curious faint smile flickered into his companion's eyes. "It's
unfortunate you haven't a little more sense," she said. "When you should
be obstinate you are soft, and when a pleasant word or two would pay you
well you bully. Has it ever struck you that I mayn't be--what you
evidently think I am--or have any designs on you?"
Tony still went the wrong way, for it seemed to him that a resolute
attitude would at least tend to moderate any claim the girl might
contemplate making. "I don't think I ever worried about the question,"
he said. "You see, it's necessary to be quite frank, and it really
wasn't of any importance to me."
"Well, I don't want to argue," and Miss Clavier laughed. "You told me
you were going to be married, but you didn't tell me who to. Of course,
I could find out, but you should feel a little easier when you hear that
I haven't tried to."
Tony did not believe her, and she recognized it. "I was once driven too
hard, but this time I'll fight," he said. "Anything you might feel
tempted to do to annoy me would most certainly recoil upon yourself."
"That really isn't necessary, Tony. Well, one could make a guess. It is
the very pretty girl with the blue eyes I saw you talking to. An
American, too. They're generally rich, and, of course, you must have
money!"
Tony seized the opportunity of at least starting her on the wrong track.
"Money," he said chillingly, "would be a very small recommendation in
Miss Harding's case."
"Yes," said his companion, "I daresay it would. She saw I was lonely,
and I think meant to be kind, because she came up and spoke to me. Don't
you think it's my duty to give her a hint after that?"
"I am not going to stay to be baited," and Tony slowly straightened
himself. "I shall have pleasure in leaving you to your youthful
admirers. I see them coming."
He swung round upon his heel, and Miss Clavier braced herself for an
effort, as the result of which the two condescending youths retreated
somewhat precipitately with flushed faces. Then she did a thing that
would have astonished Tony, for she leaned back in the garden seat and
with an abrupt movement passed her handkerchief across her eyes. It was
a moment or two later when, looking up at the sound of a footstep, she
saw Nettie Harding gravely regarding her, and to her vexation as well as
astonishment felt the blood tingle in her cheeks.
"Yes," said Nettie quietly. "I heard what you told them. They deserved
it, and you did it very well. Now, I've been talking about nothing for
most of two hours, and this place seems nice and quiet. You don't mind
my sitting here with you a little?"
Nettie Harding's directness was usually assumed, because she found it
convenient in England when she had anything delicate to do, and Miss
Clavier, who read sympathy in her face, was grateful to her. She also
hoped her companion would not notice the moisture on her long dark
lashes.
"I am paid for coming here, you understand?" she said. "I dance and
mimic people on the stage."
"Of course!" said Nettie. "Well, my father once peddled oranges on the
trains; and they make quite a fuss over people who are on the stage in
London, while I don't think many of them could have done that last piece
of yours half as cunningly. Anyway, I haven't laughed as much since I've
been in England. If you did it in New York you'd coin money."
She sat down smiling, and Miss Clavier regarded her out of half-closed
eyes. There was nobody very near them, and only two dim colored lights
above their heads. Somebody was singing, and a sweet tenor voice floated
away into the stillness of the moonlit night. Miss Clavier glanced
swiftly round into the shadows of the copper beech that fell blackly
athwart the seat.
"You like frankness in your country," she said. "Now I am, perhaps,
going to offend you, but I don't mind if I do. I saw you talking a good
deal to Mr. Tony Palliser at Darsley and here to-night."
Nettie contrived to hide her astonishment, but she felt that another
thread was being placed in her hand.
"Well," she said, "American young women are permitted to talk to gilt-
edge Englishmen, and even to marry them now and then. It really isn't
astonishing."
"No," said her companion. "Still, it would be a blunder for an American
girl who hadn't seen many Englishmen to marry Tony Palliser."
Nettie felt a thrill of pleasurable excitement, and her little show of
anger was very well assumed.
"Are you quite sure you ought to talk to me like that?" she said.
"Yes. You will understand what I mean when I tell you that I was Lucy
Davidson. I fancied some of the people here would have recognized me,
but it seems they haven't."
"Oh!" said Nettie sharply, and sat still, wondering what meaning she was
to attach to this since she had never heard of Lucy Davidson, until her
companion leaned forward a trifle.
"I have told nobody else, but it was not Bernard Appleby who came to
meet me at Northrop lodge," she said.
Nettie's gasp of astonishment was perfectly genuine this time, for
though the story Appleby had told her had been very vague in respect to
the part played by Lucy Davidson she had been able to supply the
deficiencies in it, and she was sure of her companion now.
"And you let them think--how could you?" she said with flashing eyes.
Miss Clavier was evidently almost as astonished as her listener, but she
had committed herself.
"It was too late to do any good by speaking when I heard they suspected
him--and I was just a little fond of Tony once," she said. "Of course, he
wasn't worth it--he never was--and that's why I tried to warn you. You
made me feel you wanted to be kind to me."
Nettie laughed a little, almost scornfully. "Now, I don't know if that
was nice of you. If you only meant to punish Mr. Palliser it wasn't."
Miss Clavier's face was faintly flushed all over now, but she regarded
her companion steadily. "I don't quite know why I did it--but it wasn't
altogether to make Tony smart," she said. "It was, at least, a little
because I seemed to feel you were too good for him. Oh, I know I have
done a good deal of harm--and it's a change to do the other thing now and
then. I don't want Tony. Any one can have him and welcome--they'll get a
very poor bargain, and I wouldn't like you to think I meant to pluck
him--though that would have been easy."
"No," said Nettie, "I did not think that of you. What did you mean to do
with him?"
"I don't know. To amuse myself by watching him wriggle, I think. It was
nice to feel I could frighten him horribly. If you had been like the
rest, and he had only shown me a little kindness, I fancy I would have
let him go. But he couldn't do the right thing if it would cost him a
trifle--he hasn't it in him; and he made me believe you meant to marry
him."
"No," said Nettie, with a faint ring in her voice. "The man I'm going to
marry is worth--several hundred Tony Pallisers. Still, I'm glad you told
me, and you'll tell me the rest of the story."
Miss Clavier sat still for at least a minute, and then obeying an
impulse told her tale. Her voice was also a little strained as she said,
"Clavier was bad--bad all through--and he left me before he died in
Melbourne; but though my father never knew it I was married to him all
the time. I found the--'Madame'--a disadvantage."
Then there was silence until a burst of applause greeted the conclusion
of the song; and while the two sat in the shadows Nettie Harding laid
her hand sympathetically on her companion's arm.