CHAPTER XXVI

NINIAN'S TWIN

"Missee fancy chicken for her lunch?" asked Sunia softly.

Olwen shook her head miserably and mopped her eyes with her

handkerchief. As the ayah saw the traces of grief, she uttered a

pitying little sound and ran forward. Olwen made a brave attempt to

speak and to control her weeping.

"Don't bring me any lunch, please. I have been working you to death, up

and down stairs all day at my beck and call. Never mind, I shall be

gone in a day or two, and then you can have a rest."

The Hindu took the kettle from the fire, poured out a little water,

added violet salts and eau-de-Cologne, and came to her chair.

"Don't you talk no words like those words," said she under her breath.

Her voice was rather like the very low growl of an angry animal. "Madam

say things like that, she not pukka, Madam not. I sorry, for she mother

to my sahib, but she not pukka. My dear lamb, let ole ayah bathe her

eyes and not cry any more."

The girl yielded herself up to the soothing touch, telling herself that

it was very likely for the last time. Ah, could she but have trusted

this woman! ...

Madam had left her with her uncomfortable feeling of doubt more

accentuated than ever. She was unable to guess why the Guyses had

determined that she should not leave the Pele. Perhaps it was merely

for the conventional reason that, if she did leave, there would be

another scandal tacked on to Ninian's shoulders. That might be all.

They might be desperately anxious to detain her until things had blown

over.

Yet for two reasons she felt that she could not stay. Her father's

impending arrival was quite enough, had it stood alone. Added to it now

was the situation between herself and Ninian.

This she could have treated lightly but for her self-distrust. Already,

at the thought that she was to see him in a few hours, her heart was

turning over, her pulses racing. She thought of his grave, preoccupied

face as he sat holding her head against his shoulder and washing blood

from her face with a bit of his shirt, as though she had been his little

sister; and how he had put up his hand to her cheek, covering her eyes,

holding her a minute close pressed.

She felt absolutely convinced that it could not be he who had sent the

insolent message brought by his mother, at the very memory of which her

blood boiled. He was ready to marry her, _he had no wish to shirk his

obligations_!

After that, even without her father's letter, nothing would have induced

her to stay.

Sunia fussed over her more than ever that afternoon, as though in

deliberate defiance of Madam's words. She coaxed her to eat, to rest,

to compose herself; and presently she set to work to dress her patient

and to arrange her hair properly for the first time since her accident.

She had been very angry when first she discovered how big a tress had

been cut away; as she stood to-day, planning how best to conceal the

ravage, she gave vent to several remarks disparaging to Dr. Balmayne's

surgical skill, evidently hoping to make the girl's natural vanity an

ally against a man who had sacrificed her appearance.

However, she invented a new method of wrapping the hair about the little

head--a method which hid the wound and proved very becoming. She

arrayed her in the gown she had worn the day the Kendalls called; and

had her ready a quarter of an hour too soon, that she might rest by the

fire before the exertion of going downstairs.

"Ole ayah take dear Missee down now, 'cos she got to go and bring tea

afterwards," said she at last.

As Olwen rose to obey, her heart sank and her knees trembled. She

dreaded the impending meeting unspeakably; and yet, mixed with the

dread, was the mysterious, flooding joy which would not be fought down.

She sought some motive for Madam's apparently senseless change of front.

Had she, during that night of adventure, forfeited the respect of the

owner of the Pele? Her whole mind rose to contradict the notion ... but

how could she, then, account for his mother's insolence? Something might

have happened, must have happened, since they last met. She knew there

was something between herself and Nin--and as she searched her mind she

was aware of having known as much for days past. Otherwise he must have

sent some message, some token of solicitude for her welfare.

The ayah preceded her carefully down the stairs with a candle to light

her feet. She was weaker than she had foreseen, and came so slowly that

Sunia, outstripping her, had opened the door of the banqueting-hall a

few seconds before she reached it. Through the doorway there came

clearly the sound of a laugh--Nin's laugh, but with something unfamiliar

in the tone; and words followed--"of course, if it were possible to muff

it, you would--just exactly the same kind of ass that you always have

been."

The entrance of Miss Innes cut the speaker short. She stood just within

the door, feeling that the fireside was a long way off, steadying

herself for a moment against the wall.

There were three people present. Madam sat on the settle, her face

transformed with a radiance which made her almost handsome. Close at

her side was Ninian, with an arm flung over her shoulders.... No, it

was not Ninian. Never had Olwen seen anything resembling an endearment

pass between those two. Ninian, with his pipe in his mouth, was leaning

his back against the mantel, and behind his shoulders the two carved

panthers upheld the Guyse coat, while the light flickered on the words

of the motto: "_Guyse ne scait pas se deguyser_."

Upon the girl's appearance the young man who was seated sprang to his

feet. Then she saw that his hair was fair and his eyes very blue. He

was smiling--a smile which was Nin's and yet not Nin's. His teeth were

as regular, but smaller. There was nothing in his manner which at all

resembled the impudence of his twin.

"Is this Miss Innes?" he asked cordially, and moved forward so quickly

as to intercept Nin, had the latter cherished any intention of going to

meet the girl. Olwen gave her hand in mute wonder, found it taken,

drawn under his arm, while he piloted her with care to a seat. "I'm

Wolf," he said winningly, "as my people don't seem to think an

introduction necessary. Have you ever heard tell of me?"

She stood, so taken aback that she could not at first speak. Her eyes

rested in astonishment on his face. It seemed to her like the face of

Nin translated into what it might have been but just was not. From it

her look flitted to the silent brother, who had not moved from his post,

and who stood with the queerest expression on his face. He had taken

his pipe from his mouth, was holding it in his hand and staring at it.

You would have declared that he was afraid to look up, afraid to meet

her questioning eye.

"Yes," she said, when she regained her breath, "of course I have heard

of you. You are Mr. Guyse's twin brother. I--I did not know you had

come."

"I didn't know myself that I was coming until last night," he replied

gaily. "My chief gave me a few hours' leave quite suddenly. This is a

bad place to get at, but, fortunately, we have got rid of all that

beastly snow that fell last week, and my brother was able to drive over

and fetch me."

"And he can stay four or five days!" broke in Madam joyfully. Her very

voice had changed. Gone was the forbidding, sullen woman who had so

lacerated the girl's feelings that day. There was a flush on the faded

cheeks, the eyes had light in them. She wore a handsome gown and a

diamond brooch. Olwen wondered which was the real woman--this smiling

mother or the dull, moping, vacant creature to whom she had grown

accustomed.

"And so old Nin managed to let you down, skating, and gave you a bump on

the head, I hear," went on Wolf lightly. He had thrown himself into the

chair next hers, and was pulling Daff's ears with fine, white,

well-shaped hands, which did not at all resemble those of his farmer

twin. "But it can't have been as had as my brother wants to make

out--or, at least, I see no signs of it. How clever ladies are with

their hair!"

His eyes, his smile, swept over her admiringly; his voice said, "How

charming you are!" by its tone, not by its words.

"Oh, I am nearly well," she answered vaguely, for so many new ideas

stormed at her brain that she could not at first think clearly. "I want

to know how you are, Mr. Guyse," she went on, addressing Ninian

pointedly. "Ayah told me you had a shocking cold."

Still without looking at her, he laughed nervously. "Oh, there's nothing

the matter with me," he replied huskily.

"Oh, but there is," she answered quickly. "You are still very hoarse;

and you look," she went on wistfully, "you look pulled down."

On that he gave her a queer glance, quite momentary, and, turning away,

began to clean out his pipe, stooping for the purpose over the fire.

As Wolf had evidently not been given the true account of the accident--a

circumstance for which she felt deeply grateful to Madam and Ninian--she

could not allude to it, nor thank Ninian for his care of her. The new

arrival had changed everything. Her anger against Madam must be choked

down, she must smile and be polite to this handsome young man, must

behave as though all were well and everyone on good terms.

"I've been quite eager to see you," went on Wolf confidingly. "You

know, we had the greatest bother to get Madam to consent to ask a lady

to come here, and we were so afraid she would bite your head off when

you came! But no. Each letter she has written me has been full of news

of you. She tells me you are settling down to be quite happy here."

"Everyone has been very kind," replied Olwen gravely; "but I fear I

shall have to leave, at least temporarily, in a day or two. The doctor

says I must lead quite an idle life for the present."

"Well, can't you do that here?" laughingly he demanded. "Our ancestral

home seems to me an ideal spot for the purpose. We must suborn the

doctor and get him to say so. However, at least we have you safe for a

few days, as you can't travel without his permission, and the poor chap

is confined to his room with a sharp touch of 'flu,' so we heard in

Caryngston to-day."

Olwen's little "Oh!" of dismay was interrupted by the entrance of Sunia

with the tea. That the doctor should have "flu" in such weather was a

most likely thing to happen; yet to her, after what she had gone through

that day, Wolf Guyse's unsuspicious words seemed like another twist of

the cord that bound her to the Pele.

Keenly the eyes of the ayah swept the room; keenly they dwelt upon the

faces of the four persons present. She placed the little table where it

always stood, and beside it the chair Olwen always used when she sat and

read aloud to the others. "Tea ready, missee-bibi," said she softly.

Olwen rose, not without an effort, went to her chair, sat down and

dispensed tea. Ninian, who had only spoken that once since her

entrance, watched her movements, brought hot water as she needed it, and

handed cups and cakes while Wolf engaged Miss Innes in conversation.

By the time tea was over the girl was almost exhausted. This was her

first venture from her room, and her head still felt weak. She leaned

back in her chair and her replies became languid.

Ninian, who had hitherto been most unusually silent, suddenly woke up

and began to tell Wolf a long story of the picturesque drunkenness of a

certain farmer in the district, and how his horses had brought him

safely home. His brother listened with what seemed like astonishment at

his selection of a subject. When they had done laughing the younger was

approaching Olwen's chair. Ninian stood up swiftly, and, going to the

billiard-table, began to pull off the cover.

"Play you fifty up before dinner," said he.

"Done," was the reply; and in a minute the two were busy lighting the

large lights over the billiard-table, leaving the convalescent free to

rest.

Instinctively Olwen glanced at Madam to see if she wanted anything; but

Madam had no eyes, no attention for anybody but Wilfrid. She made him

move her chair so that she could watch them play, asking eager questions

about what games Wolf had had lately, how hard he was worked, and so on.

Olwen had slipped into the large, low chair which usually was Ninian's

property. She lay there with her eyes closed, trying to fix her

thoughts coherently. She was vaguely terrified, because she did not

understand. There seemed no reason in Madam's behaviour, while that of

Ninian was so wholly unexpected as to be affrighting. It was some weeks

now since they first dropped into the habit of teasing each other,

chipping each other, behaving like brother and sister. And now--what?

Was he ashamed of his mother's conduct? Was he apprehensive lest her

coarseness might have scared the girl? Or did he not wish his brother

to know on what terms they stood? He had the air of being embarrassed.

Well, a man might well be embarrassed if he considered himself bound to

marry a girl because of such an adventure as they had been through....

Was it true that Dr. Balmayne was laid up? It must be. Wolf could not

be also in the plot, whatever it was, against her. He had said that the

doctor had "flu," and had assumed that she could not leave the Pele

until he had sanctioned the removal. She comforted herself with the

thought that there were several days to spare before the _Stupendous_

could reach Liverpool. It would really be better for her not to start

upon her travels yet; she felt far from strong. If only Ninian were not

in this curious mood she would feel quite different.

"Come, Miss Innes," said Wolf's delightful voice, "you must back one of

us. Here's my silly old mother putting her money on me. Won't you back

Nin?"

"Why, yes, certainly," she replied, sitting up so that she could see the

table. "What's the game now?"

Wolf gave the score, and informed her that if Nin won he would have to

give her a pair of gloves. "Is he the kind of chap you would back to

get anything he wants, in the usual way?" he asked mischievously.

Reflecting that Ninian might see a point in her answer which the

questioner could not intend, she replied: "I think he is usually content

with very little."

Wolf's laugh had perhaps an edge of malice. "By Jove! you've hit it,"

said he, chuckling; "and faint heart never won fair lady, eh?"

"Oh," laughed Olwen in sudden malice, longing to sting Nin into speech,

"the fair lady seemed willing enough the day I saw her."

"Hallo! What's this? I am going to hear news," cried Wolf, approaching

her chair, cue in hand.

Ninian spoke from where he stood, leaning over the table in the act of

making his stroke. "If you don't lie back in that chair and keep quiet,

Miss Innes, you shall go back upstairs to bed," he said calmly.

"Mr. Guyse, I must ask you not to talk while you are playing," cried she

when his cannon failed. "Kindly remember that I am backing you."

"Backbiting me, I should say," he replied gloomily, chalking his cue.

"Well, I'm a generous foe. If our talking scandal put you off your

stroke, little brother, we are dumb," was Wolf's amused comment. He

looked from one to the other as though highly entertained.

"Come, that's better," said Olwen, lying back as admonished. "I assure

you, Mr. Wilfrid, I often make him quite brilliant; but if he loses this

game he knows what to expect," in tones of mock anger.

"What am I to expect?" demanded Nin, speaking from the far end of the

table.

"Well, I shall never go skating with you again, for one thing."

"I shouldn't suppose you would do that, in any case," he replied, in

what almost amounted to a return to his old manner.

"You want me to ask why, so I just won't," she flashed back. "I am not

well, and my repartee department is all out of order."

"You always end with a jade's trick," said Ninian, as he once more took

his turn.

"If you've got to the point of searching Shakespeare for your repartee,

I fear you can't win," she told him sadly. It was not long before her

foreboding was justified, and Wolf had to announce that her champion was

defeated.

"It's my fault," said she. "He has had nobody but me to play against

this winter, and of course it has spoilt his play." As she spoke the

dressing-bell rang.

Olwen asked Madam if she might be allowed to dine with them as she was,

without changing. Madam said she looked all right, and Wolf improved

the occasion with a neat phrase, but Ninian said calmly:

"Miss Innes will not come down to dinner. She is already tired, and

will go upstairs now."

"Oh, Mr. Guyse! Is this my punishment for backbiting?" she pleaded,

standing up and looking beseechingly at him. Wolf happened to be the

other side of the room, putting the cues into the rack, so that the

reply was not audible to him.

"No, it's my own punishment for letting him beat me." As he spoke his

eyes, for the first time that evening, met hers. Without a word said

she understood that it cost him something to utter the sentence that

would send her away--that consideration for her health had prompted his

ungracious speech. She held her breath for a minute, her face full of a

tender light. He lowered his own gaze, turned slowly from her, strolled

down the room and opened the door. Sunia was waiting outside with a

shawl. Olwen bade good night to the others, and passed out. Ninian

held open the door, and did not seem to notice her outstretched hand.

The Lonely Stronghold · 第 26 / 37 章