THE DAY IN THE NEW FOREST
THE day for the New Forest dawned very brightly. Gentian was radiantly
happy, and she and Godwin were like two children in their whole-hearted
enjoyment of every hour. There was no lack of conversation during the
run. She and Godwin chattered away together, Thorold occasionally
joining in. Miss Ward for the most part took her pleasure in silence.
It was a perfect day for seeing the Forest. A gentle breeze kept the
air cool. The green glades under the magnificent old oaks and beeches
seemed like an enchanted country to Gentian. They had lunch at a
picturesque old inn, and then she and Godwin wandered off to find the
tree under which William Rufus was killed.
"I wish I was a gipsy," sighed Gentian; "I am sure a nomad wandering
life would suit me. Women ought not to have such a dull time as they
do. Look at you, now! You go over the seas and round the world and see
a little of everything; and I am told I ought to be content to stay in
my small corner for life."
"You'd long to find a corner to stick in if you were a sailor. I'm
looking forward to a snug little home of my own one day."
"With a wife shut up in it all the year round," said Gentian, mischief
in her eyes. "I know what a sailor's wife is. I knew two in Italy. One
had come out there by doctor's orders. She said the loneliness of her
home when her husband was at sea was more than she could stand."
"Oh," said Godwin, "I would have my wife meet me at different ports.
I'd keep her lively. You bet I would. Don't disparage sailors, Miss
Brendon. You'll send me into the blues if you do—"
They were sitting down in the bracken at the foot of an old oak.
Gentian leant her back against the gnarled trunk and looked up dreamily
into the green foliage above.
"A bird must be so happy," she observed. "It has command of the earth
and air, and no one can prevent it soaring away from disagreeables when
it chooses."
"You ought to have no disagreeables in your life," said Godwin. "You
want a husband to shoulder all difficulties, and keep you safe and
happy."
"I don't think men are fond of shouldering women's burdens," said
Gentian reflectively; "when I go about in the village, and see how all
the strain and work falls on the poor wife, who is on her feet from
early morning to late at night, mending and making and cooking for her
lord and master, as well as her children, it makes me feel that the
man's lot in life is the comfortable one."
"Yes, but in our class things are slightly different. Do you think I
would let my wife slave for me? Never—"
Then he put his hand softly over hers.
"I would always joyfully shoulder your burdens for you. Don't you know
that?"
"But I haven't any," said Gentian, laughing as she quietly slipped
her hand away. "Oh, look, isn't that a squirrel above us? The little
darling! He has an acorn, I believe, in his paws."
"I expect he has a nest up there. I'll just see."
The squirrel had disappeared under a big branch. Godwin felt that the
moment had not come for him, so he was willing to change the subject.
In an instant he had thrown off his coat and sprung up on a low-lying
branch. The old tree would have been easy for a child to climb, but he
was quite unprepared to have Gentian following him. She was as agile as
he, and when they failed to trace the squirrel's home, they sat astride
a big branch and laughed at each other.
"I haven't climbed trees for years," she said; "what fun it is. And how
shocked Waddy would be if she were to see me!"
"She's deep in 'The Times.' Thor has ungallantly left her—he's mooning
round on his own—collecting beetles, I expect. He was always great on
natural history."
"Isn't it delicious to be off the ground? It's the nearest approach to
a bird, sitting up here out of sight."
A sudden gale of wind sprang up. Gentian's hat was off her head. In
reaching out to catch it, she overbalanced herself and fell with a
heavy thud upon the grass below. Godwin was down from the tree in a
moment.
"Are you hurt? Darling Gentian, speak!"
"You needn't call me darling," murmured Gentian; "I am not dead yet."
She sat up. No bones were broken, but she had a cut one side of her
forehead, against a projecting bit of root in the ground, and it was
bleeding profusely. Godwin was in an awful state of mind. He took out
his handkerchief, and was in the act of binding it up when Thorold
suddenly appeared.
"I heard a crash," he said; "and thought there must be an accident."
Gentian turned impatiently from Godwin towards him.
"You do it," she said, "I would rather you did."
Godwin looked hurt, but taking a flask out of his pocket, Thorold bade
him fetch some water from a stream near. In a few minutes the bleeding
was staunched, and her head neatly bound up, but Gentian felt dizzy and
faint. She persisted in walking back to the car, and Thorold's arm was
taken, not Godwin's. Miss Ward, who was sitting in it under the shade
of a chestnut tree, made her comfortable at once, and then they decided
to go to the nearest town, and get a doctor to look at it.
"It shan't spoil our day," said Gentian. "I'm feeling all right again."
"What were you doing, dear?"
"Trying to imagine myself a bird, Waddy. Pride must have a fall."
"You might have been killed," said Godwin.
He looked white and shaken. His brother glanced at him curiously, but
made no remark.
At the very entrance to the next village they were fortunate enough to
come to a doctor's house. The brass plate on the gate told its tale.
They were still more fortunate to find the doctor at home, and he very
soon plastered up the cut, and reassured Miss Ward about it.
"It's only a surface wound," he said; "and her head is a little
bruised. She is lucky to have escaped so easily."
"My accident mustn't shorten our day out," said Gentian, when they were
in the car again. "I'm quite well. Do please let us do more of the
Forest."
So they turned once again into the Forest, and drove through it to the
place they had arranged to have tea. But Godwin's spirits had visibly
declined; his eyes never left Gentian's face, and she noticed and
resented the change in him.
"Why do you make such big eyes at me!" she exclaimed at last. "You
needn't be glum and cross, because I made a fool of myself."
They had just left the car when she made this remark. Thorold and Miss
Ward had gone into the hotel to order tea.
"Oh," he cried, "you don't realize what it meant to me—seeing you fall
like that—you might have been killed on the spot! And I'm afraid even
now that you are more hurt than you make out. You must be! I expect
you'll feel it to-morrow."
"Thank you for your cheerful comfort! You sound like an old lady
talking!"
A red flush mounted in Godwin's fair cheeks.
"No man would dare to say that to me," he said quickly.
Gentian gave one of her rippling laughs.
"That's how I like to see you. I wanted to get a rise out of you. It's
very nice of you to be so interested in me, but I'd much rather you
forgot all about me and told me some more of your sea yarns."
"Interested in you!" Godwin exclaimed. "I—I love you, Gentian—I
wouldn't have any hurt happen to your little finger if I could help it.
I feel I could die for you, and yet you wouldn't let me touch you when
you were so hurt! You turned to Thor instead!"
They were standing on a balcony outside the hotel. In the distance
the golden sun slanted across the old forest trees. It was only five
o'clock, but there seemed already that preliminary hush before evening,
when the active birds retire, wearied, to their beds, in the thick
leafy trees, and the butterflies and bees creep to their respective
lairs, giving place to the countless midges and mosquitos which haunt
the evening air.
"I always turn to Cousin Thorold when I'm in trouble," Gentian said in
a quiet dignified tone. The pink colour was coming into her cheeks.
Godwin pressed closer to her, and took possession of her hands.
"I don't want you to turn to any one except me when I am by your side,"
he said in a low passionate tone. "Gentian, tell me you care for me a
little. I can't expect you to love ice as I love you. There's nothing
in me to attract you, I daresay. You're an enchanting, adorable angel.
But I've an honest heart to offer you. And your happiness will be
always my first thought."
"Oh, please stop—"
Gentian's voice was troubled now.
"I like you very much as a friend, but nothing more. No, you could
never be anything more. You're too young. I feel I know as much as
you do. I've lived as long as you have, you know. We're just about
the same age, aren't we? We won't talk any more about it. And if you
only knew the real me, you'd find me a restless, discontented, selfish
creature. And Waddy says I'm hopeless about housekeeping. I burnt a
cake yesterday which she had made. I shouldn't be an enchanting wife.
Anybody who married me would be bitterly, bitterly disappointed in me.
Don't look so miserable."
Poor Godwin tried to smile. The softness of Gentian's voice, the
kindness in her eyes, and the pretty little shake of her head as
she mentioned her disabilities as a wife, only aggravated his
disappointment. She had hurt him in his tenderest part, when she had
alluded to his youth. But he choked back his feelings and tried to
speak manfully. In his effort, he adopted rather a truculent tone.
"As far as my youth goes, that will mend itself. I will wait. I will
come back from my next voyage, and then you may listen to me more
patiently. A man who has seen the world as I have, and who has seen
women and beautiful women, too, of all nationalities, is not to be
easily moved, when once he has made his choice. You won't prevent my
continuing to love you. And sometimes pertinacity conquers! Oh, blow
them! Why can't they keep away!"
This last spluttering ejaculation was made as Thorold and Miss Ward
appeared. And then Gentian added insult to injury by laughing outright.
She checked herself at once and turned to Miss Ward.
"Is tea ready? We've been admiring the view—at least, I have. How many
trees do you think are in the Forest? A million?"
She was the one who talked now. Through tea her tongue never faltered.
Thorold laughed and teased her as was his wont; Godwin was the only one
who sat silent.
The drive home was not quite such a success. Gentian was rather
relieved than otherwise when the Cottage was reached.
She slipped her hand into Godwin's with a little comforting pressure.
"Cheer up," she whispered to him. "I really am not worth what you think
I am, and it is ungrateful of me to have spoiled the delicious day you
have given us. I shall dream of those old Forest glades. Ever so many
thanks."
"I am going to cheer up," said Godwin, setting his lips determinedly.
"You are too young to know your own mind. You are still a child—"
This was a Roland for her Oliver.
Gentian looked at him with laughing tender eyes.
"I'm going to keep you as a friend," she said; and then she turned to
Thorold. "Be very nice to your brother to-night, because we've had a
difference of opinion."
Then she followed Miss Ward into the Cottage, and her smile disappeared.
"Oh, Waddy dear, I feel as if I've been beaten all over, and my head
aches so I'll go straight to bed. I don't want any supper."
Miss Ward was full of anxiety and tenderness at once. She hovered over
her till she was safely in bed. As she stooped over to give her a good
night kiss, Gentian put her arms round her neck and hugged her.
"You're the only real friend I have, Waddy! The others are only friends
for a time. Directly I won't marry them, they cut up rusty."
And though Miss Ward was told no more, she knew that Godwin had
received his congé. She sighed as she stroked the curly head on the
pillow.
"I hope the right man will come one day, dear. Now go to sleep, and
that poor head of yours will be better in the morning."
Meanwhile Thorold and his young brother reached home, Godwin being
unusually silent and subdued.
Later on, when they sat over the smoking-room fire, and smoked their
pipes, Godwin gave his brother his confidence.
"I did think she might listen to me; she almost laughed it off. And
having such a short time here is awfully rotten! But I'm in downright
earnest and she'll find it out. I wish you'd sound her a bit, Thor—she
might listen to you. She dismissed me too lightly. I don't believe she
knows her own mind. I've never seen any one like her. It isn't mere
beauty—it's the light and sparkling fire which seem to be covered over
and hidden most of the time. Oh, she's adorable—bewitching—don't laugh
at me—Don't you think she may relent? I'd give my life for her!"
Thorold did not smile. There was a tender, almost pitying look in his
eyes, as he looked at the earnest boy beside him.
"I have known others, Godwin, who were going to make you desperate by
not listening to you."
"Oh, calf love!" said Godwin hastily. "Don't remind me of those
schoolgirls."
"One was a young widow—"
"You're very unpleasant!"
"Forgive me, my boy—I'm only wondering if Gentian Brendon would hold
your heart for a lifetime. You sailors come and go, and you're apt to
be extra susceptible on shore. She's a girl, I fancy, who will demand
a good deal. You're as restless and emotional as she is. Will you
suit each other? I'm only looking the thing fair and square in the
face. I could wish for a different type of wife for your happiness.
Two impatient, aspiring, eager young souls do not always go happily
together in harness!"
"That's just clap-trap! I don't put her in the scales and weigh every
mood and attribute that she possesses—I'm in love with her. I'll never
marry anyone else! Never!"
A silence fell between them, which Thorold broke.
"She is not unaccustomed to having young fellows in love with her. I
gather from Miss Ward that she has had several proposals already, and I
interviewed one lover who was badly hit. I am only telling you this to
prepare you for the worst. She's a very determined young lady, and will
not easily change her mind."
"She's a child—a baby—she has no mind to change."
But Godwin's heart sank within him. He said no more, and retired early
to bed, though not to sleep.
Thorold, looking across the breakfast table at him the next morning,
felt very sympathetic towards him.
"I'll have a talk with Gentian, my boy—and tell you the result."
"If she won't have anything to do with me, I'll go up to town. I can't
stay on here. The Cliffords want me to stay with them."
Godwin spoke quietly, but he looked quite miserable.
About twelve o'clock, Thorold went off down the road. He heard the
sound of the organ in the little church, and slipped inside to listen.
He was very fond of music, and Gentian was playing so exquisitely that
he sat down just inside the door and lost himself in a dream. When she
had finished, he waited for her in the churchyard. She came down the
path talking to an old man who had been blowing for her. When she saw
Thorold, she smiled and waved her hand to him.
"Have you come to make tender inquiries after my poor head?"
"I hope you are none the worse for the accident?" Thorold said gravely.
"Just a little," replied Gentian. "I'm in a nervy, irritable state of
mind to-day. Waddy annoyed me at breakfast and I was rude to her, so I
came into church to get good again."
"I want to have a little talk with you," said Thorold.
"Waddy has gone into the town to shop. Come along in."
She led the way to the Vicarage. The little room was full of fragrant
roses in china bowls. The low windows were wide open, and the scent of
mignonette and heliotrope came in from the beds outside.
Gentian took up her position with her back to the fireplace. She
motioned to Thorold to take a seat, but he declined.
"Not while you stand."
"Oh, how old-fashioned you are! I never get a chance of looking down
upon you. If I did, it would help me enormously."
She sat down on the couch, and Thorold took a seat opposite her. Then
he cleared his throat and began:
"It's a rather delicate subject, but I have really come to you on
Godwin's behalf. He is very unhappy, and is buoyed up with the hope
that possibly you will reconsider your decision."
Gentian's blue eyes began to sparkle.
"Well now, honestly, Cousin Thorold, do you advise me to marry such a
boy?"
There was a little silence.
"Godwin is a frank, straightforward, good-living lad," said Thorold
slowly and a little heavily. "I don't think he is from a worldly point
of view a good match. But he'll have some money at my death, and—"
A low ripple of laughter came from Gentian's lips.
"Please excuse me," she said checking herself. "Do you think my
marriage with your brother will relieve you of a rather tiresome
neighbour? It might for a time, but if you are really interested
in your brother, I wouldn't advise you to urge it. I am positively
certain I should run away from him before I had been married to him a
twelvemonth. And I'm sure you wouldn't like that. It would worry you a
lot."
"Do not think for a moment that I want to get rid of you."
Thorold's tone was earnest.
"Frankly, I have told Godwin that I consider you both too young for
marriage. Not in years, perhaps, but in temperament. Still, I promised
to speak to you. He is under the impression that you may alter your
mind."
"Now, Cousin Thorold, look me straight in the face and tell me if you
really and truly from the bottom of your heart think that I should make
your brother a good wife? You know I shouldn't. Waddy says I think a
lot of myself. But I know my limitations. It would take much more of
a man than Godwin to have the patience necessary to bear with me. I
think I'm only half-fledged. I'm not sufficiently developed to be a
satisfactory wife for any one. And he hasn't the character to attract
or inspire me. You've done your best, but you're too truthful by nature
to be a good advocate in this case. Tell him you found me a veritable
block of marble, and that nothing in this world would make me ever
think of him in the light of a husband. I'm awfully sorry for you both.
I don't think I'm a marrying sort. I'm sure I shall go on living here
and get old and grey. You won't get rid of me in a hurry."
Then a dawning look came into her eyes. She clasped her hands round her
knees and gazed out of the window.
"If I were to marry, the man must be like a rock for steadiness and
reliability; he must never fail me, never deceive me, never disappoint
me. And his soul must be the strongest part of him just as it is the
weakest part of me. It would be rather a one-sided bargain, wouldn't
it?"
She jumped up from her seat suddenly.
"And now we have done with the subject, haven't we? Do come out and eat
a few strawberries with me. We have such stunning ones just now."
But Thorold shook his head, and went thoughtfully back to his young
brother.
Why was he so devoutly thankful that Gentian did not want to be his
sister-in-law?
Godwin listened to his brother's account of the interview with a moody
face.
"I still believe she doesn't know her own mind, but I'm not one to be
begging for snubs on my knees. I'll go up to town to-morrow and—and
forget her if I can."
"I think that's the best thing you can do," said Thorold gravely.
So Godwin disappeared, and Gentian seemed perfectly indifferent as to
his existence. She never asked for him, or mentioned his visit.
And Miss Ward wisely respected her silence, and kept clear of any
reference to that day in the New Forest.