YOU WANT TO GO!
"White hands cling to the tightened rein,
Slipping the spur from the booted heel,
Tenderest voices cry 'Turn again!'
Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel.
High hopes faint on a warm hearth-stone;
He travels the fastest who travels alone."
--KIPLING.
For the first six weeks of the new year life flowed serenely enough in
the bungalow on the mound.
Relieved of the greater part of her burden, and re-established in her
husband's heart, Evelyn Desmond blossomed like a flower under the
quickening influences of spring. Light natures develop best in
sunshine: and so long as life asked no hard things of her, Evelyn
could be admirably sweet-tempered and self-forgetful--even to the
extent of curbing her weakness for superfluous hats and gloves and
shoes. A genuine sacrifice, this last, if not on a very high plane.
But the limits of such natures are set, and their feats of virtue or
vice must be judged accordingly.
To Honor, whose very real sympathy was infallibly tinged with humour,
the bearing of this regenerate Evelyn suggested a spoilt child who,
having been scolded and forgiven, is disposed to be heroically,
ostentatiously good till next time; and her goodness at least was
whole-hearted while it lasted. She made a genuine effort to handle the
reins of the household: waxed zealous over Theo's socks and shirts;
and sang to his accompaniment in the evenings. Her zest for the
tennis-courts waned. She joined Frank and Honor in their frequent
rides to the polo-ground, and Kresney found himself unceremoniously
discarded like a programme after a dance.
Wounded vanity did not improve his temper, and the ever-present Linda
suffered accordingly. For Kresney, though little given to the weakness
of generosity, never failed to share his grievances liberally with
those about him.
"What is this that has come to little Mrs Desmond?" he demanded one
evening on a querulous note of injury. "Whenever I ask her to play
tennis now she always manages to be engaged. I suppose, because they
have won that confounded Punjab Cup, she thinks she must give herself
airs like the rest of them. But I tell you what, Linda, we have got to
make her understand that she is not going to get money out of us, and
then chuck us in the dirt like a pair of old gloves,--you see? You
must tell her you are in a hole now, because of that three hundred
rupees; that you have been forced to get cash from me to go on with,
and to let me know about your little business with her; and you are
afraid I may refer the matter to her husband. It would bring his
cursed pride down with a run if he knew that his wife had practically
borrowed money from me, and he could say nothing against _us_ for
helping her. It is she who would suffer; and I am not keen to push her
into a hot corner if she can be made to behave decently enough to suit
me. So just let her know that I will make no trouble about it so long
as she is friendly, like she used to be. Then you can ask her to tea;
and I bet you five rupees she accepts on the spot!"
* * * * *
Meantime Evelyn Desmond went on her way, in ignorance of the forces
that were converging to break up her newly-gotten peace of mind. For
the time being her world was filled and bounded by her husband's
personality. The renewal of his tenderness and his trust in her
eclipsed all the minor troubles of life: and with the unthinking
optimism of her type she decided that these would all come right
somehow, some time, sooner or later.
What Desmond himself thought did not transpire. Evelyn's happiness
gave him real satisfaction; and if he were already beginning to be
aware that his feeling for her left the innermost depths of his nature
unstirred, he never acknowledged the fact. A certain refinement of
loyalty forbade him to discuss his wife, even with himself. Her
ineffectualness and the clinging quality of her love made an
irresistible appeal to the vein of chivalry which ran, like a thread
of gold, through the man's nature; and if he could not forget, he
could at least try not to remember, that her standard of uprightness
differed widely and radically from his own.
When Kresney's tactics resulted in a partial revival of her
friendliness towards him, Desmond accepted the fact with the best
grace he could muster. Since his promise to the man made definite
objection impossible, he decided that the matter must be left to the
disintegration of time; and if Kresney could have known how the
necessity chafed Desmond's pride and fastidiousness of spirit, the
knowledge would have added relish to his enjoyment of Evelyn's
society.
Thus the passing of uneventful days brought them to the middle of
February--to the end of the short, sharp Northern winter, and the
first far-off whisper of the wrath to come; brought also to Honor
Meredith a sudden perception that her year with the Desmonds was very
nearly at an end. John's latest letter announced that he hoped to get
back to the life and work he loved by the middle of April; and the
girl read that letter with such strangely mixed feelings that she was
at once puzzled and angered by her own seeming inconsistency. John had
always stood unquestionably first in her life. It would be altogether
good to have him with her again--to be able to devote herself to him
entirely as she had dreamed of doing for so many years. And yet....
There was no completing the broken sentence, which, for some
unaccountable reason, ended in a sigh.
Honor was sitting at the time in her favourite corner of the
drawing-room, on a low settee constructed out of an empty case,
cunningly hid, and massed with cushions of dull red and gold. As her
lips parted in that unjustifiable sigh she looked round at the
familiar pictures and hangings; at Desmond's well-worn chair, and the
table beside it with his pipe-rack, a photo of his father, and half a
dozen favourite books; at the graceful outline of Evelyn's figure
where she stood by the wide mantelshelf arranging roses in a silver
bowl, her head tilted to one side, a shaft of sunlight from one of the
slits of windows, fifteen feet up the wall, turning her soft fair hair
to gold.
From Evelyn's figure, Honor's glance travelled to the photograph of
Desmond on the piano, and lingered there with a softened
thoughtfulness of gaze. What deep roots she had struck down into the
lives of these two since her first sight of that picture! A year ago
the man had been a mere name to her; and now----
The clatter of hoofs, followed by Desmond's voice in the verandah,
snapped the thread of her thought, and roused Evelyn from the
contemplation of her roses.
"Theo _is_ back early!" she exclaimed: and on the words he entered the
room, elation in every line of him, an unusual light in his eyes.
"What _has_ happened to make you look like that?" she asked. "Somebody
left you a fortune?"
Desmond laughed, with a peculiar ring of enjoyment.
"No fear! Fortunes don't grow hereabouts! But we've had stirring news
this morning. A big party of Afridis has crossed the Border and fired
a village, murdering and looting cattle and women on a very daring
scale. The whole garrison is under orders for a punitive expedition.
We shall be off in ten days, if not sooner."
Evelyn's colour ebbed while he was speaking, and she made a quick
movement towards him. But Desmond taking her shoulders between his
hands, held her at arm's length, and confronted her with steadfastly
smiling eyes.
"No, no, Ladybird--you're going to be plucky and stand up to this like
a soldier's wife, for my sake. The Frontier's been abnormally quiet
these many months. It will do us all good to have a taste of real work
for a change."
"Do you mean ... will there be much ... fighting?"
"Well--the Afridis don't take a blow sitting down. We have to burn
their crops, you see; blow up their towers; enforce heavy fines, and
generally knock it into their heads that they can't defy the Indian
Government with impunity. Yes; it means fighting--severe or otherwise,
according to their pleasure."
"Pleasure!--It sounds simply horrible; and you--I believe you're
_glad_ to go!"
"Well, my dear, what else would you have? Not because I'm murderously
inclined," he added smiling. "Every soldier worth his salt is glad of
a chance to do the work he's paid for. But that's one of the things I
shall never teach you to understand!"
Evelyn turned hurriedly back to her roses. Her throat felt
uncomfortably dry, and two tears had escaped in spite of herself.
"How long will you be gone?" she asked, addressing her question to the
flowers.
"A month or six weeks. Not longer."
"But won't any one be left to guard the station? In this horrible
place we women don't seem to count a bit. You all rush off after a lot
of stupid Afridis."
"Not quite all. An infantry regiment will come up from Pindi: and we
leave Paul's squadron behind. Just like his luck to be out of it, poor
old man. But six weeks will be gone in no time. This sort of thing is
part and parcel of our life up here. You're not going to fret about
it, Ladybird--are you?"
He turned her face gently towards him. To his astonishment eager
entreaty shone through her tears, and she caught his hand between her
own.
"No, Theo, I needn't fret, because--if somebody has to stay--it can
just as easily be you. You're married and Major Wyndham isn't."
Desmond stepped back a pace, incredulous anger in his eyes. "Evelyn!
Are you crazy? It's not the habit of British officers to sneak behind
their wives when they're wanted at the front. It comes hard on you:
but it's the price a woman pays for marrying a soldier and there's no
shirking it----"
For answer she clung to his hand, pressing it close against her heart.
Instinctively she understood the power of her weakness, and exercised
it to the full. Perhaps, also, an undefined fear of Kresney gave her
courage to persist; and the least mention of the man's name at that
instant might have averted many things.
"Only this time, please," she murmured, bringing the beseeching
softness of her eyes and lips very close to his set face. "You'll be
sorry afterwards if you leave me alone--just now."
"Why just now? Besides, you won't be alone. You will have Honor."
"Yes. But I want you. It has all been so lovely since Christmas.
Theo--darling,--I _can't_ let you go, and--and perhaps be killed by
those horrid Afridis. Every one knows how brave you are. They would
never think you shirked the fighting. And Major Wyndham would do
anything you asked him. Will you--_will_ you?"
Desmond's mouth hardened to a dogged line, and he drew a little away
from her; because her entreaty and the disturbing nearness of her face
made resistance harder than he dared allow her to guess.
"My dear little woman, you haven't the smallest notion what you are
asking of me. I never bargained for throwing up active service on your
account; and I'll not give the fellows a chance to insult you by
flinging marriage in my teeth."
"That means--you insist on going?"
"My dear--I can do nothing else."
She threw his hand from her with a choking sob.
"Very well, then, go--go! I know, now, that you don't really--care, in
your heart--whatever you may say."
And turning again to the mantelpiece, she laid her head upon her arms.
For a few moments Desmond stood regarding her, a great pain and
tenderness in his eyes.
"It is rather cruel of you to put it that way, Ladybird," he said
gently. "Can't you see that this isn't a question--of caring, but
simply of doing my duty? Won't you try and help me, instead of making
things harder for us both?"
He passed his hand caressingly over her hair, and a little shiver of
misery went through her at this touch.
"It's all very well to talk grandly about duty," she answered in a
smothered voice. "And it's no use pretending to love me--when you
won't do anything I ask. But--you _want_ to go."
Desmond sighed, and instinctively glanced across at Honor for a
confirmation of his resolve not to let tenderness undermine his sense
of right. But that which he saw banished all thought of his own
heartache.
She sat leaning a little forward, her hands clasped tightly over
Meredith's letter, her face white and strained, her eyes luminous as
he had never yet seen them.
For the shock of his unexpected news had awakened her roughly,
abruptly to a very terrible truth. Since his entrance into the room
she had seen her phantom palace of friendship fall about her like a
house of cards; had seen, rising from its ruins, that which her brain
and will refused to recognise, but which every pulse in her body
confirmed beyond possibility of doubt.
Desmond's eyes looking anxiously into hers, roused her to a
realisation of her urgent need to be alone with her incredible
discovery. Her lips lost their firmness; the hot colour surged into
her cheeks; and smoothing out John's letter with uncertain fingers,
she rose to her feet.
But in rising she swayed unsteadily; and in an instant Desmond was
beside her. He had never before seen this girl's composure shaken, and
it startled him.
"Honor, what has upset you so?" he asked in a low tone. "Not bad news
of John?" For he had recognised the writing.
She shook her head, fearing the sound of her own voice, and his
unfailing keenness of perception.
"You must be ill, then. I was afraid you were going to faint just now.
Come into the dining-room and have a glass of wine."
She acquiesced in silence. It would be simplest to let him attribute
her passing weakness to physical causes. And she went forward blindly,
resolutely, with a proud lift of her chin, never looking at him once.
He walked beside her, bewildered and distressed, refraining from
speech till she should be more nearly mistress of herself, and lightly
holding her arm, because she was so evidently in need of support. She
tightened her lips and mastered an imperious impulse to free herself
from his touch. His unspoken solicitude unnerved her; and a sigh of
pure relief escaped her when he set her down upon a chair, and went
over to the sideboard for some wine.
She sipped it slowly, supporting her head, and at the same time
shielding her eyes from his troubled scrutiny. He sat beside her, on
the table's edge, and waited till the wineglass was half empty before
he spoke.
"Did you feel at all ill this morning? I'll go for Mackay at once to
make sure there's nothing wrong."
"No--no." There was a touch of impatience in her tone. "Please don't
bother. It is nothing. It will pass."
"I didn't mean to vex you," he answered humbly. "But you are not the
sort of woman who goes white to the lips for nothing. Either you are
ill, or you are badly upset. You promised John to let me take his
place while he was away, and if you are in any trouble or
difficulty,--don't shut me out. You have done immensely much for both
of us. Give me the chance to do a little for you. Remember, Honor,"
his voice took a deeper note of feeling, "you are more to me than the
Major's sister or Ladybird's friend. You are mine, too. Won't you tell
me what's wrong?"
At that she pulled herself together and faced him with a brave
semblance of a smile.
"I am very proud to be your friend, Theo. But there are times when the
truest friendship is just to stand on one side and ask no questions.
That is what I want you to do now. Please believe that if you could
help me, even a little, I would not shut you out."
"I believe you--and I'll not say another word. You will go and lie
down, perhaps, till tiffin time?"
"No. I think I will go to Ladybird. She badly needs comforting. You
broke your news to us rather abruptly, you know. We are not hardened
yet, like Frank, to the boot-and-saddle life here."
"I'm sorry. It was thoughtless of me. We are all so used to it. One's
apt to forget----"
He rose and took a few steps away from her; then, returning, stood
squarely before her. She had risen also, partly to prove her own
strength, and partly to put an end to the strain of being alone with
him.
"Honor," he asked, "was I hard with Ladybird? And am I an unpardonable
brute if I insist on holding out against her?"
"Indeed, no! You mustn't dream of doing anything else."
She looked full at him now, forgetful of herself in concern for him.
"I was half afraid--once, that you were going to give way."
"Poor Ladybird! She little guessed how near I came to it. And maybe
that's as well, after all."
"Yes, Theo. It would be fatal to begin that way. I quite see how hard
it is for her. But she must learn to understand. When it comes to
active service, we women must be put altogether on one side. If we
can't help, we are at least bound not to hinder."
Desmond watched her while she spoke with undisguised admiration.
"Would you say that with the same assurance, I wonder, if it were
John? Or if it happened to be--your own husband?"
A rush of colour flooded her face, but she had strength enough not to
turn it aside.
"Of course I would."
"Then I sincerely hope you will marry one of us, Honor. Wives of that
quality are too rare to be wasted on civilians!"
This time she bent her head.
"I should never dream of marrying any one--but a soldier," she
answered very low. "Now I must go back to my poor Evelyn and help her
to see things more from your point of view."
"How endlessly good to us you are," he said with sudden fervour. "I
know I can count on you to keep her up to the mark, and not let her
make herself too miserable while we are away."
"Yes--yes. I am only so thankful to be here with her--this first
time."
He stood aside to let her pass; and she went out quickly, holding her
head higher than usual.
He followed at a little distance, still perplexed and thoughtful, but
refraining from the least attempt to account for her very unusual
behaviour. What she did not choose to tell him he would not seek to
know.
On the threshold of the drawing-room he paused.
His wife still stood where he had left her, disconsolately fingering
her roses, her delicate face marred with weeping. Honor went to her
straightway; and putting both arms round her kissed her with a
passionate tenderness, intensified by a no less passionate
self-reproach.
At the unnerving touch of sympathy Evelyn's grief broke out afresh.
"Oh, Honor--Honor, comfort me!" she sobbed, unaware of her husband's
presence in the doorway. "You're the only one who really cares. And he
is so--so pleased about it. That makes it worse than all!"
A spasm of pain crossed Desmond's face, and he turned sharply away.
"Poor little soul!" he reflected as he went; "shall I ever be able to
make her understand?"