They had already made one trip to Guernsey, crossing by the early
Saturday boat and returning the same evening.
But that was a strictly business affair.
"We're feeling frightfully fossilised at having bought nothing, except
what we absolutely needed, for nearly a month," said Miss Penny. "From
that point of view I should imagine the Garden of Eden may have been
just a trifle slow--"
"Ah, you see, Mother Eve hadn't had the advantages of a superior
education," said Graeme.
"And there are some fripperies we simply _must_ have," said Miss
Penny, "even for a runaway wedding like this. You see, when we decided
to come here we had no idea how much farther we were going, and so we
couldn't possibly provide. Of course if we had known you were here--"
At which Margaret laughed.
"You would have provided accordingly," said Graeme. "Well, you must
put all the blame on to Mr. Pixley. I wonder what he would say if he
knew all about it."
"He would use language unadapted to prayer-meetings and public
platforms," said Miss Penny. "He can, you know, when he tries hard."
"I imagined so. It will be rather amusing to see what he'll do when he
finds out."
"He'll do the very nastiest thing that is open to him, whatever that
is, and poor Mrs. Pixley will have an exceedingly bad time. And he'll
probably have a fit on his own account."
"Oh, we can hardly expect him to be so kind as all that--"
"The only one I'm sorry for is Charles Svendt. He's really not half a
bad sort, in his way, you know," said Miss Penny.
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid, under the circumstances, I can't squeeze
out any sympathy even for Charles Svendt."
Arrived at St. Peter Port, the ladies permitted him to attend them to
the door of the largest drapery establishment they could find, and
then told him he was at liberty to go and enjoy himself for a couple
of hours.
"Two hours? Good Heavens! What can you want in there for two hours?"
"Usual thing!" sparkled Miss Penny. "Tablecloths!"--with which cryptic
utterance he had to be satisfied.
"And where do we meet again--if ever?"
"Hauteville House--Victor Hugo's. It's part of your honeymoon--a bit
on account."
"And whereabouts is it?"
"No idea. If we can find it, you can. Au revoir!"
He went first to get his hair cut, since the practice of the tonsorial
art in Sark is still in the bowl-and-scissors stage.
Then he sought out a lawyer of repute, whose name he had got from the
Vicar, and gave him instructions for the drawing of a brief but
comprehensive deed of settlement of all Margaret's portion on herself
absolutely and entirely. While this important document was being
engrossed, he sought out the Rector of St. Peter Port, in George
Place, and in a short but pleasant interview was accepted as tenant of
the whole of the Red House in Sark for the month of July, with the
option of a longer stay if he chose.
Then back to the lawyer's, where he signed his deed, paid the fees,
and took it away with him.
After that, to fill in the time occupied elsewhere by the purchase of
mythical tablecloths, he rambled up and down the quaint
foreign-flavoured streets till he found a jeweller's shop of size, in
the Arcade, and decided, after careful inspection from the outside,
that it would answer all requirements.
For he had a ring and half a ring to buy for Margaret, and he thought
he would buy one also for Hennie Penny, as a pleasant reminder of
their good days in Sark.
So utterly unconventional had their proceedings been, so thoroughly
had the spirit of the remote little island possessed them, and so
all-sufficient had they been to one another, that the thought of an
engagement ring had troubled his mind as little as the lack of it had
troubled Margaret's. But the absolute necessity of a wedding ring had
reminded him of his lapse, and now he would repair it on a scale
remotely commensurate with his feelings. Remotely, because, if his
pocket had borne any relation to his feelings, he would have bought up
the whole shop and lavished its contents upon her, though he knew that
the simple golden circlet would far outweigh all else in her mind.
He was waiting placidly for them in the shade of the dark trees of
Hauteville, when they came panting up the steep way, flushed with
victory and the joys of purchase after long abstinence.
"Well, has the proprietor of that big shop retired with a competence?"
he asked, as he threw away the end of his cigar.
"Can you lend us our boat-fares home?" gasped Miss Penny.
"So bad as all that? I can't say yet. I've not begun my own purchases.
We'll see when I'm through. If I'm cleaned out too we'll offer to work
our passages."
"You can pawn your watch. Meg and I haven't got one between us. We
left them at home on purpose."
"Thoughtful of you. Now let us into the treasure-house."
They enjoyed the wonders of Hauteville immensely,--objectively, the
wonderful carved work and the tapestries, the china and the
furniture,--the odd little bedroom with the bed on the floor, so that
the Master could roll out to his work at any moment of inspiration,
and the huge balconies, and the glass eyrie on the roof whence he
surveyed his wide horizons, and where, above the world, he
worked;--and subjectively, the whole quaint flavour and austere
literary atmosphere of the place.
"No wonder he produced masterpieces," said Graeme, delighting in it
all. "The view alone is an inspiration."
Then he took them up to Old Government House for lunch and a rest in
the garden, and then away to the Arcade to the jeweller's shop, which
proved adequate to all his demands;--for Margaret, a half-hoop of
diamonds which the jeweller, with an air of sincerity, assured them
were as fine stones as he had ever seen in the course of a long and
prosperous career. Which ring Margaret would thenceforth value before
all her others, though in the simple matter of intrinsic worth her
jewel-case could beat it hollow.--And a plain gold circlet which, when
she got it, would be more precious to her than all the rest put
together.--And for Miss Penny, in spite of her protestations, a
handsome signet ring which, when cornered, she chose in preference to
a more feminine jewel, and which was left to be engraved with her
family crest and motto.
"I have never adopted the habit of rings," she said, as they drifted
towards the ice-shop. "Chiefly, perhaps, because I never had any worth
wearing. But I've always thought I would like to wear a crest signet.
I shall prize this, Mr. Graeme, as the very greatest treasure I
have--"
"Until someone gives you a plain gold one, Hennie, and that will put
all the rest into the shade," said Margaret.
"Ah!" said Miss Penny.