A FAIR ALLY
It was bright afternoon, and Elsie sat beside a tea-table on the lawn
at Appleyard, with Williamson standing beside her. The days were
getting short, but the screen of stiff silver-firs kept off the light
wind, and strong sunshine warmed the air. It was what the Scot calls a
pet day; one borrowed from a finer season, and to be made the most of
when winter was close at hand. Madge Whitney lay in a canvas lounge
nearer the shelter of the trees, talking to Andrew, and several young
men and women stood about the tennis net across the lawn. They seemed
to be engaged in a good-humored dispute and their laughter followed a
remark of Dick's.
Williamson glanced at his companion and saw that her eyes were fixed
upon the boy. They were grave, and her expression was preoccupied, but
he did not see the softness he had expected. Indeed, her interest in
Dick was puzzling, because he did not think it was altogether
accounted for by the hints Staffer had given him, and this was a point
upon which he wished to be enlightened. Williamson knew something
about women, but, for the most part, they were not women of very high
character. With these he was not a favorite, although he was a clever
talker and his manners were good.
"You do play tennis sometimes," Elsie said after a silence.
Williamson smiled. Her meaning was obvious.
"Oh, yes, but one feels lazy now and then; and I imagined you let me
stay because you wanted to talk to me! Was I wrong?"
"No," answered Elsie; and he noted her unmoved calm.
She was young, but he had not expected shy hesitation or forced
boldness from her. He was, however, surprised when she said nothing
for the next minute; for he had usually found that an inexperienced
antagonist shirks the strain of silence. Then he indicated Dick, who
had just returned a difficult ball.
"He plays a good game."
"Dick does a number of things pretty well, although there's none at
which he really excels. I don't know which is the more useful--"
"You like a man to have some salient point of skill or character that
those who know him can rely upon?"
He noticed her glance wander and did not know that she was half
instinctively looking for Andrew, but it rested again on Dick,
brooding but calm. Williamson saw that she felt no keen animosity
against himself. She knew or suspected that they were, in some
respects, opponents, but this did not make her vindictive. She would
take the course she had determined on without hating him. This
indicated strength of character, but it was too detached an attitude
for a young girl fighting for her lover.
"Dick looks better than he did," he remarked to give her an opening.
"Yes," said Elsie, fixing her eyes quietly on his face; "very much
better than he did when he came home from town."
Williamson admired her courage.
"For which you held me to blame!" he said.
"Partly to blame."
"Well, I see you're trying to be fair, though I'm half afraid you
failed. But since you meant to raise this point, I must warn you
against looking at things out of their right perspective. It makes
those in the foreground appear too big."
"You mean one should not exaggerate their relative importance?"
"Exactly. You must, for example, allow for the exhilarating effect a
change of air has on a young man fresh from the country who spends a
few days in town. Remember that Dick leads a very quiet and monotonous
life at Appleyard."
"A sober life is much the best for him."
Williamson wondered whether she spoke with naive girlish prudery; if
not, there was something he ought to know.
"Perhaps it's best for everybody; but we don't all like it, and a
change is bracing," he answered with a smile. "I suppose you are
looking at the thing from the moral standpoint."
"Not exclusively. Dick will soon be master at Appleyard, and that will
bring him duties he ought to be fitting himself for. Then you may not
know that he is not very strong."
"I guessed something of the kind, but a few late nights and a little
excitement can't do much harm."
Elsie looked at him with thoughtful eyes.
"Possibly not, in most cases, but they are bad for Dick."
"If you would be quite frank it would help." Williamson was anxious to
learn why quietness was necessary for the lad. "We might get on better
if we understood each other."
"Have I not been frank? You could hardly have expected me to say as
much as I have, even. But I am not Dick's doctor."
Williamson felt baffled, but he would not show it.
"You feel that I ought to have looked after Dick better. I think
that's hardly just, because I have, of course, no control over him."
"You are an older man, and he is easily led. A hint would have gone a
long way, and he doesn't resent good-humored firmness from those he
likes."
"You suggest that he likes me?"
"One can't tell," said Elsie in a quiet voice.
"Well, you must see how awkwardly I'm placed. I can't defend myself
without attacking Dick, and you wouldn't like that. Suppose I hinted
that he insisted on following his bent although I tried to restrain
him?"
"Did you?"
Williamson hesitated, which was an unusual thing. He had no
sentimental respect for girlish inexperience, but he could not make
the direct statement that would have cleared him. He reflected with a
touch of ironical amusement that Elsie would not be deceived.
"It was really difficult to interfere, but I did try a tactful hint,"
he said with an indulgent air. "Perhaps the way you regard the thing
is natural and deserves some sympathy, but I must say I feel a little
hurt. It looks as if you thought I had some object in encouraging Dick
to be extravagant and rash."
"No; I can't see what you would gain," Elsie replied thoughtfully.
"Well, that's some relief; but what do you want now? A promise that,
at the risk of offending him, I'll be very firm in future?"
Elsie was silent for a moment and then looked at him calmly.
"I don't think I will ask you for this," she said.
She rose, and Williamson turned away, feeling somewhat annoyed with
himself. Elsie had not asked for his promise, because she thought it
would not be kept. He had failed to convince her, and her opposition
must be reckoned with. Then, what she had said about excitement being
bad for Dick had roused his keen curiosity. The girl was inexperienced
and had used no artifice, but he did not think she could have played
her part better. Staffer apparently believed that she and Andrew
Johnstone were not important; but Williamson thought him mistaken.
While he crossed the lawn Madge Whitney watched him with a smile.
"That man," she remarked to Andrew, "has just got a set down, but I
imagine Elsie has been wasting her time."
"It looks as if you knew what they had been talking about," Andrew
replied.
Madge's eyes twinkled.
"Why, of course I do! You must remember that I've been here a week,
noticing things. Elsie doesn't like the man, and the only reason she
could have for talking to him confidentially is that she wanted to
warn him to keep his hands off Dick. But I don't think he will."
"Ah!" Andrew said sharply. "It's curious that you--"
"Shall I finish what you meant to say? It's curious that although I
haven't had much opportunity for seeing what is going on, I should
agree with the conclusion you have come to after mature deliberation.
Well, if you're afraid of complimenting me on my cleverness, you can
account for it by remembering that I'm an American. Of course, this
doesn't make me anything the less of an outsider."
"I didn't mean that you were an outsider."
"Perhaps you didn't. It was your Scottish reserve that made you hate
to talk about your family affairs; but Jim, who counts you as his
partner, has told me something. Then I don't mind telling you that I
like you and admire what you are trying to do. However, we'll keep to
the point. Williamson is leading your cousin into extravagance with
some object."
"I believe that's true," Andrew agreed quietly. "After all, you were
right to some extent, about my reserve; but now if you can help me
I'll be very glad. It isn't an easy job I have undertaken."
"Very well. I'll begin by telling you something. The evening
Williamson arrived, I was coming down to dinner before the rest--I
afterward found my watch was fast. When I got to the gallery at the
top of the stairs I stopped; it's rather dark where you come out of
the passage, you know. Dick was standing by the fire in the hall and
his manner indicated that he was waiting for somebody. As I hesitated,
Williamson came out of the opposite passage and went downstairs, but
his quick glance around showed he wanted to be sure there was nobody
but Dick about. I saw Dick's face, and it was eager. Williamson gave
him two or three bits of paper that looked like bank-notes."
"If Dick had given them to Williamson, I could have understood it
better," Andrew interrupted.
"Yes; the explanation would then have been obvious; but what I saw
suggests something graver. Dick went away, looking relieved; but
Williamson moved toward the stairs and then turned back, and a few
moments afterward Staffer came in. He said, 'So you have seen him!'"
Andrew made an abrupt movement, but said nothing.
"I suppose you see the significance of this?" Madge said.
It was plain to Andrew that Staffer had known, and no doubt approved,
of the transaction between Williamson and Dick.
"Yes; and I feel disturbed about it."
"Well," continued Madge, "I went back quietly and didn't come down for
some time; but I watched the three men at dinner. Williamson spoke to
Dick as if he had not seen him since he came, and Dick said he was
sorry he wasn't able to meet him at the station. In fact, they rather
overdid it; and Staffer seemed to think so, because he stopped them.
Then, perhaps, because he felt relieved, Dick--"
"Drank more than usual?" Andrew suggested grimly when she hesitated.
"I noticed that. Well, since you have seen so much, I'm glad to have
you on my side, particularly if you can tell me what I ought to do.
I'll admit that I don't know."
"I think you should watch and do what seems plainly needful, but
nothing more. Don't try to make clever plans, but take Mackellar into
your confidence."
"You haven't met him," Andrew said in surprise.
"Jim has, and I know what he thinks of him."
Andrew took her advice and soon afterward left Appleyard in the
side-car. Whitney let the high-powered bicycle go when they turned
into the main western road, which runs, straight and level, along the
Solway, and they reached Dumfries in an hour. Mackellar had not left
his office and in five minutes Andrew had made the situation plain.
Mackellar pondered it silently for a time, and then looked up.
"Weel," he said, "it gets interesting and I must set to work. I'll let
ye know when I have anything to report."
Andrew, knowing his man, was satisfied with this. He and Whitney drove
home at full speed, and arrived before their absence had been noticed.
Williamson left the next morning, and Madge Whitney a few days
afterward, and nothing of importance happened during the following
week; but Mackellar had, in the meantime, been carrying out a plan
that was to have some influence upon Williamson's affairs.