getting on for three, was asleep under a tree, as before. They stopped
to look at it, and Sidney behaved in such a way as to give Jane a good
opinion of her. "She's a darling," she said, as they went on. "I do
hope she'll be awake when we come back. I love to hear them talk at
that age, don't you?"
Jane said she did, and recounted specimens of the Vicarage baby's wit,
over which they both laughed freely. They were good friends by the time
they reached the log cabin.
Jane unlocked the door and waited for admiration, which was given.
"I've kept it very tidy and clean ever since Harry went away," she said,
looking solemnly at Sidney. "I hope he won't have got too old to like
it. He wrote to me, you know, to say he was coming back, and he
mentioned the log cabin. I expect he'll be pleased to see it again."
There was half an appeal in her voice. Sidney looked at her quickly.
"I'm quite sure he will," she said. "He's not so very old, after
all--just as old as I am, in fact, and I'm not a bit too old to
appreciate it."
"Ah, but the war may have made a great difference in him."
"It doesn't make as much as you'd think." She hesitated for a moment,
and said: "I know a man who has been through it all from the beginning.
He enlisted as Harry did, and had a rough time of it at first. He's
been wounded too--rather badly. But he's much the same as he was
before."
Jane looked at her. "You knew Harry when he was little, didn't you?"
she asked. "We only knew him first three years ago. He seemed old then
to me and my brother, but he was only sixteen."
"Let's sit down somewhere and I'll tell you all about it," said Sidney.
"I don't think I want to walk any more, unless you do."
They sat down on the bench under the eaves, and Sidney told her about
that summer when she and Harry had played together as children. Jane
kept her large eyes fixed upon her all the time, and they seemed to be
searching her and adding her up. By and by her solemnity relaxed and
she smiled when Sidney did, and asked her questions here and there.
When the story came to an end it was plain that she had made up her mind
about her, and that her opinion was favourable.
This was made more evident still when she said calmly: "I expect Harry
will fall in love with you, if you're here when he comes home."
Sidney looked at her in surprise, and then laughed. "What an
extraordinary girl you are!" she said. "You think of everything."
Jane laughed too. She was feeling more and more at home with Sidney,
who did not treat her as a child. "Would you like him to?" she asked.
Sidney was unexpectedly silent and serious, and when she did speak, she
did not answer Jane's question. "Would you like to be friends?" she
asked. "Real friends, I mean, so that we could tell each other things."
"Of course I should," said Jane. "But I expect you've got lots of
friends older than me, that you know much better. I've got hardly
anybody, because there aren't many people about here, and we don't go
away very often."
"I always know at once if I'm going to like a person," said Sidney, "and
I knew I should like you when I first saw you. We might see a good deal
of one another when we come down to Poldaven; and I shall want a friend.
I think it's going to be rather difficult."
Jane was enchanted at the offer of friendship. She admired Sidney
tremendously, and to be on equal terms with her gave her a most
gratifying sense of having left her childhood behind her. "Why do you
think it is going to be difficult?" she asked, concealing her
gratification.
"Oh, because, because! Well, because of what you said just now. If you
haven't seen it already you will very soon. It's what I've been brought
down here for. They don't say so, of course, but it's plain enough to
see. Of course I shall like Harry awfully, if he's anything like he
used to be. But you see I'm in love with somebody else. That's the
trouble."
This was a confession worth having as an introduction to the proffered
friendship. Jane didn't know whether to be glad or sorry to hear it.
She had accepted Sidney as a suitable person for Harry to fall in love
with, but perhaps it would be of some advantage if she didn't fall in
love with him. There remained, however, the question of his falling in
love with her.
"Perhaps Harry ought to know that," she said after a pause.
Sidney looked at her and laughed again. "You know Harry better than I
do now," she said. "Do you think he's likely to fall in love with me?"
Jane considered this carefully. "I don't know; I think I should if I
was him," she said.
"It's very sweet of you to say that," said Sidney, becoming serious
again. "Perhaps I will tell him; or perhaps you shall. Then we shall
all be happy and comfortable together. I should like to have Harry as a
friend, and I don't in the least see why one shouldn't have a man as a
friend when you're in love with another man. Do you?"
Jane had not considered the subject, but was pleased to have her opinion
asked. It drew her to Sidney more than anything--this treatment of her
as if her opinion on a grown-up subject was worth having. "Not if it's
quite understood," she said, decisively. "I'm really rather glad that
you are in love with somebody else, because Harry is already my friend,
and if you are going to be, then I shall be very well off--much better
than I should be if you and Harry wanted to be together and to leave me
out of it. I don't mind telling Harry, if you like. It might be rather
awkward for you to do it, as it would look as if you were giving him a
warning. Who shall I say you're in love with?"
Sidney laughed merrily and gave her a sudden embrace. "I can't help it,"
she said, "you're such a darling. Well, he's a Captain in the Grenadier
Guards, and his name is Noel Chancellor."
"That's the regiment that Harry was to have gone into," said Jane. "His
father and grandfather belonged to it."
"Did they?" said Sidney. "Some of Noel's people were in it too. It
sounds all right, but as a matter of fact Noel was a schoolmaster when
the war broke out. He's the son of our vicar at home. When the war is
over he is going to be a schoolmaster again. So you see how it is."
In her general ignorance of the world outside the immediate parish of
Royd, Jane didn't quite see how it was. She asked kindly after Noel
Chancellor and was given a pleasing impression of a handsome athletic
young man, who had played cricket for Marlborough and Oxford and Notts,
and had been happily engaged at a health resort on the East Coast of
Kent, when the war broke out, in teaching thirty or so delightful boys
under the age of fourteen to play cricket as it ought to be played, and
to wrestle with the elements of Greek and Latin in their spare time.
"Considering that all the people who think themselves somebody send
their children to be educated in schools like Noel was in," said Sidney.
"I should have thought a person like me would have been just the touch
that was wanted to make it still more of a success. But of course
mother doesn't see it in that light. It's all very trying."
Jane's affectionate heart went out to this tale of crossed love, the
first that had ever come within her ken outside the pages of her
father's novels, which she read dutifully but without much interest.
She thought it quite natural that Lady Avalon should want Sidney to
marry Harry, as both of them had titles, but did not say this for fear
of being laughed at. She wanted to be a real help and comfort to her
new friend.
"I am sure it will come all right in the end," she said. "Perhaps when
we tell Harry he will be able to do something."
*CHAPTER XXII*
*THE RETURN*
Harry came home a few days after Lady Avalon and Sidney had come to
Royd, and two days before they had been going away. But they were
persuaded, without much difficulty, to stay a little longer. At least,
Lady Avalon accepted Lady Brent's invitation to prolong their visit, and
informed Sidney that she had done so. "You see how it is," said Sidney
to Jane, with whom she was now fast friends, much to the maturing of
Jane's behaviour, but not to the spoiling of her, as her parents
gratefully remarked.
"She's a thoroughly nice unaffected girl," said Grant, "and she'll be a
nice friend for Jane, especially if what we think is going to happen
does happen."
"I'm not sure she's not putting ideas into Jane's head," said Miss
Minster. "I know they have secrets together, and I've a sort of notion
that they're on the eternal subject of love."
"Well," said Grant, "girls will talk about love, I suppose, and if they
talk nicely I don't know that there's much harm done."
"Jane ought to have learnt how to talk nicely about love by this time,"
said Miss Minster, with obvious reference. "I think Lady Sidney is all
right really, or I should perhaps advise you both differently. Whether
she's going to set her cap at Harry or not I don't know, and I don't
suppose Jane would tell me if I asked her. But I'm pretty sure that they
have discussed it."
Mrs. Grant listened to this without remark, but was a little disturbed
at the idea of Jane having secrets which she would not impart to Miss
Minster. Would she impart them to her? It would mark a stage if Jane
were not ready to tell her everything.
She was considering the advisability of approaching Jane on the matter
when Jane approached her. "I've got a secret with Sidney, mother," she
said, in her abrupt but open way. "It's something she's told me about
herself. She says she'd rather I didn't tell you just yet, if you don't
mind, but she doesn't mind my telling you that there is a secret. You
don't mind, do you?"
"What a lot of 'minds'!" said Mrs. Grant. "No, darling, I don't mind at
all, unless it's something that you think you ought to tell me."
"Oh, no, it's nothing of that sort," said Jane. "It's something about
herself which she doesn't want people to know yet. I'm going to tell it
to Harry when he comes home, so that we can all three enjoy ourselves
together."
Mrs. Grant, with the idea in her head that Sidney had confided to Jane
that she retained a tender memory of Harry which might become more
tender still, was a little surprised at this way of putting it; but it
did not take her long to understand the truth when Jane had left her.
She smiled and kept her own counsel, and liked Sidney all the better;
for she must have known that if Jane told her that there was a secret
she would guess what the secret was, little as Jane might suspect it.
Harry sent a wire in the morning to say that he was coming by a train
that would arrive in the late afternoon. Only Mrs. Brent drove to the
station to meet him, but they were all waiting for him in front of the
Castle, the Grants inclusive, and there was scarcely a villager who was
not somewhere on the road, or in the more public parts of the park to
see him drive by.
His smiling excitement at this greeting from old friends--the only
friends he had had up till two years before--made him seem at first
exactly what he had been. But there was none of the little group at the
Castle, except Lady Avalon and Sidney, who had not the impression, after
the first greeting, of his having become much older. His fair boy's
beauty had developed into the sunburnt hardness of a man. He was
extraordinarily handsome in his smart khaki kit, but he looked years
older than his age, which was not much over nineteen; and his speech and
manner had altered. It would be another eighteen months before he would
be legally his own master and the master of his ancient Castle, and all
that went with it; but he seemed to have come into the house as its
master, and to give it a meaning that it had never had while it had been
ruled by a woman.
It was not too late for tea, which provided an opportunity for everybody
of getting used to the new Harry, as they sat on the terrace and made
play with their cups and conversation. There were adjustments to be
made, and the necessity for them to be covered up. Harry talked freely
to everybody. His manner was perfect with his grandmother, to whom he
showed deference, while she, of course, behaved with her usual calm and
let nothing appear of all that she was thinking. Mrs. Brent kept her
eyes on him all the time, and had an air almost of bewilderment. She
did not try to assert herself, but accepted gratefully the notice he
gave her from time to time. Lady Avalon was the only person present who
asked him questions about his experiences, but it soon became evident
that he had nothing to tell that was personal to himself. He answered
the questions, but with a slight change in the frank manner of his
speech when they touched upon his own experiences apart from the
operations in which he had taken part. His mother told Mrs. Grant
afterwards that he had said to her during the drive that he wanted to
forget everything that had happened since he had left home--at least he
didn't want to talk about it. They had yet to learn how far his
experiences had changed him, and to gather whether or no they were such
as to have left a painful mark upon his life; but he would give them no
help in coming to their conclusions. His life in the ranks was to
remain as it had been, a sealed book to them.
With Sidney Harry was friendly, but no more. They talked a little of
their childhood, and laughed over some of their memories, but it was
not, apparently, to be the basis of any special degree of intimacy
between them. Sidney retired a little into her shell after a time, and
watched.
Harry was more like his old self with Jane than with anybody. Beyond a
single remark about her growth he had not shown himself aware of any
change in her. He seemed to want to take up their friendship at exactly
the place where it had stopped. He asked her many questions about
Pobbles, and said he would write to him. His manner towards her was that
of a grown man to a child whom he loves. Even Lady Avalon did not
mistake it for anything else, for she told Lady Brent afterwards that it
was rather extraordinary that he should not see that Jane was already
growing into a very pretty girl, with the implication that the fact
might dawn upon him as time went on.
Jane herself showed a high but modest pride in the value he put upon
her. "Now you see what he's like," she told Sidney. "When we three can
be together and enjoy ourselves--well, we shall enjoy ourselves. I
consider that Harry is about the nicest friend that anybody can have.
He doesn't forget you when he's away."
"He hasn't forgotten _you_," said Sidney. "I'm beginning to wonder
whether I shan't be a little in the way."
Jane showed surprise at this, and Sidney laughed and said: "Darling old
thing you are! You don't know what you're worth; but you will in a year
or two. Anyhow, I'm not jealous of you, and I like Harry for remembering
his old friends and not wanting to drop them for new ones. Of course I
knew him before you did, but not as he is now. He's older than I should
have thought, and I think he looks rather sad. You've got to cheer him
up, and if I'm wanted to help I shall be quite ready."
"Of course you'll be wanted to help," said Jane. "You'll be seeing more
of him, for one thing, as you will be staying in the house. I suppose
you won't mind my being his _chief_ friend though, if you like somebody
else better."
"I should be a horrid sort of creature if I did," said Sidney. "You
won't suffer from me when you're not here."
Harry and Sidney strolled together in the garden after dinner, with the
full concurrence of their elders, except possibly of Mrs. Brent, who had
not yet recovered from her air of slight bewilderment, and was quieter
than she had been for the last few days.
They talked about Jane, and for the first time Harry seemed to regard
Sidney with interest. Hitherto he had been merely friendly with her on
the surface, as with one who was there but didn't matter much. "Oh,
yes, we're real friends," she said, with her free and pleasant smile.
"I suppose you can only see that she's a child, but I've never treated
her like one. I began like that because girls of that age love being
talked to as if they were grown up, but I very soon found out what a lot
there was in her. If she's a child in some ways still, as of course she
is, it makes her all the more fascinating. She's one in a thousand.
She'll make all the difference to me down here, if I can get hold of her
sometimes."
"She's a real person," Harry said. "If you and she have made friends it
will be jolly for all three of us. We can all be friends together."
"That's what Jane wants," said Sidney. "She's devoted to you, and I
believe she's also devoted to me, though not so much so. We can go and
get hold of her to-morrow morning, can't we? She has a holiday on
Saturday."
"Oh yes. I'm very glad you want to. I was half afraid you might think
she was too young for you."
"I suppose you mean that you were half afraid you'd have to dance
attendance on me, when you'd rather have been with Jane; but you see you
need fear nothing of that sort."
They looked at one another. There was just light enough to catch an
expression of face. Then they both laughed, and became friends from
that moment.
"We'd settled that Jane was to tell you," said Sidney, "but I think I
might as well do it myself. I'm engaged to somebody, but the engagement
is not smiled upon. In fact it isn't recognized at all, and can't be
spoken of. But Jane and I thought that if you knew of it it would make
things more comfortable all round for us three."
Harry asked her questions and showed a friendly sympathy towards her
love affair. But the idea of it seemed to make him rather sad too, and
Sidney did not make the mistake of thinking that his sadness was due to
any disappointment created by what she had told him. Indeed her
information had cleared the air, which held more of friendliness and
companionship in it than before, as if he were relieved at having it
quite understood that he would not be expected to make love to her, but
short of that would give her all the friendship that she wanted, and be
glad to take in return all that she had to give to him.
She had a good deal to give him. That baby's friendship which seemed to
have meant nothing to him had kept him alive in her heart. He was not
quite like other men to her. Something of his childhood lingered about
him, though he had advanced so far on the hard road of manhood, and but
for her memories of him would have seemed to her much older than his
years. She felt the desire to encourage in him those gleams of boyish
laughter and irresponsibility which had once or twice shone out through
the half-weary indifference of his attitude. She thought that he must
have been through a harsh disillusioning experience, and was too tired
in spirit to accept all at once the freedom of his release. Her own
lover, who was some years older than Harry, had told her that it needed
a good deal of resolution and self-hardening to go through the ranks,
and that sometimes only the remembrance of her had kept him up to it.
She thought she knew more than other girls were likely to know what it
must have meant to Harry, who did not seem even to want to speak of it.
The maternal instinct which is in all women drew her to sympathy with
him. She and Jane between them would get rid of that sadness and
tiredness that lay over him. If Jane was too young, and she too
occupied with somebody else to give him the consolation that would
quickly heal such wounds as he was suffering from, he would still,
surely, respond to their affection, and forget his troubles. She must
not talk too much about her own happiness. That seemed to depress him,
kind as he was about it. Of course it was love he wanted, though he
might not know it. It was a pity that Jane was not a few years older,
or that she herself was the only unmarried one of all her sisters. She
did not suppose that there was anybody else in these parts, from what
she remembered of them, who would be good enough for Harry. But perhaps
it was just as well. She and he and Jane would enjoy themselves
together, and show the world, if the world happened to take notice and
be interested, that a man and two girls could be the best of friends
with no question of love affecting their intercourse.
Perhaps that evening they might have got further into intimacy, but
Harry had still something to do before he could feel himself free to
take his enjoyment in the youthful companionship that had been so
fortunately provided for him.
"I'm very glad you're to be here for a bit," he said. "There aren't many
young people about and it would have been a bit dull for me, though I
should have tried my best to keep it from my mother and grandmother. I
think I must go in and have a talk with Granny now, if you don't mind.
I haven't seen her alone since I came back."
But apparently Mrs. Brent had decided that there was to be no talk
between those two alone, as long as she could prevent it. Lady Avalon
and Sidney said good night soon after ten o'clock, and when they had
gone Mrs. Brent said: "Come out for a little with me, Harry dear. It's
quite warm, and I don't even want a wrap. If you're tired, as I expect
you are, you can go straight to bed when we've just had a little
stroll."
Lady Brent sat like a sphinx. Harry said: "All right, mother. But I'm
not tired. We'll go out for ten minutes and then I'll have a little
talk with Granny."
Directly they were in the garden, Mrs. Brent said in a querulous tone:
"Why should you want to have a talk with her? She took you away from me
a lot when you were a child, but now it's different. She ought not to
have any more authority over you than I have."
Harry laughed at her. "Authority!" he echoed. "I don't feel like
anybody having much authority over me now, little mother." He spoke
tenderly, but there was a hint of impatience in his tone, which she
detected.
"I'm sure I don't want to direct you in any way," she said. "I only
want to feel that you're mine now that you've grown up, and not hers.
Nobody in the world loves you as much as I do. I suppose you'll marry
some day, and I shan't grumble at that when the time comes. But until
then I want to feel that you and I are all in all to one another."
He answered only her reference to his grandmother. "You're my mother,"
he said. "In one way you've always been more to me than Granny. But I
owe her a good deal, and I mustn't forget it. I haven't done much for
her since I went away. Now that I've got what I wanted, and have come
back again, I want to make up for that--to both of you."
"It was very cruel of you to cut yourself off from us as you did,
Harry," she said. "You needn't have done it. Even she wouldn't have
prevented you doing what you wanted to do, when once you'd done it."
"We needn't talk about that," he said, decisively. "It's all over now.
It's what I want to tell her. You must let me have a little talk with
her when we go in, please, mother."
"You mean you want me to go to bed while you sit and talk to her alone.
Why should you want that? Why shouldn't I be there too?"
"Well, because you're not friendly to her, and I want to be--poor old
Granny! I suppose you've never got on well together. I used to feel
it, though I didn't think about it much. I think you both tried to keep
it from me. I'd much rather you tried to get rid of that feeling,
mother dear. It makes me unhappy, and you can't hide it from me any
longer. After all, Royd is her home. I'm rather sorry you left it. I
liked to think of it with you and her here, just as it used to be."
"Oh, I couldn't stay here when you had gone. It was too much to ask of
anybody. I suppose she'll always be here--at least till you come of age
and are master instead of her. Couldn't we go away together--I don't
mean now, but after you've been here a little, to London or
somewhere--just you and I together? I've had so little of you, Harry,
all to myself. All the dull years here, while she has been everything
and I have been nothing, I've looked forward to it--to having you to
myself for a little, when you were grown up."
She peered into his face, and saw a frown on it; but when he spoke it
had cleared, and he spoke very kindly. "I may have to go to London
before my leave is up," he said. "But I should want to go alone. And I
don't want to be away from Royd more than I can help. You've always
belonged to Royd, mother, ever since I can remember. When I'm with you
I'd rather be here than anywhere. Please don't spoil it for me by
making things difficult with Granny. I think I'll go in to her now. I
mustn't keep her up late."