I was conducting him along the corridor to his room when the door was
reopened and Sinfi's head appeared, as bright as ever, and then a
beckoning hand.
'Reia,' said she, when I had returned to the door, 'I want to whisper
a word in your ear'; and she pulled my head towards the door and
whispered, 'Don't tell nobody about that 'ere jewelled trúshul in the
church vaults at Raxton. We shall be going down there at the fair
time, so don't tell nobody.'
'But you surely are not afraid of your father,' I whispered in reply.
'No, no,' said she, bringing her lips so close to my face that I felt
the breath steaming round my ear. 'Not daddy--Videy!--Daddy can't
keep a secret for five minutes. It's her I'm afeared on.'
I had scarcely left the door two yards behind me when I heard the
voices of the sisters in loud altercation. I heard Sinfi exclaim, 'I
sha'n't tell you what I said to him, so now! It was somethin' atween
him an' me.'
'There they are ag'in,' said Panuel, bending his head sagely round
and pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to the door; 'at it
ag'in! Them two chavies o' mine are allus a-quarrellin' now, an' it's
allus about the same thing. 'Tain't the quarrellin' as I mind so
much,--women an' sparrows, they say, must cherrup an' quarrel,--but
they needn't allus keep a-nag-naggin' about the same thing.'
'What's their subject, Panuel?' I asked.
'Subjick? Why _you_, in course. That's what the subjick is. When
women quarrels you may allus be sure there's a chap somewheres
about.'
By this time we had entered his bedroom: he went and sat upon the
bed, and without looking round him began unlacing his 'highlows.' I
had often on previous occasions remarked that Panuel, who, when
sober, was as silent as Videy, and looked like her in the face,
became, the moment that he passed into 'market-merriness,' as frank
and communicative as Sinfi, and (what was more inexplicable) _looked_
as much like Sinfi as he had previously looked like Videy.
'How can I be the subject of their quarrels?' I said, listlessly
enough, for I scarcely at first followed his words.
'How? Ain't you a chap?'
'Undoubtedly, Panuel, I am a chap.'
'When women quarrels there's allus a chap somewheres about, in course
there is. But look ye here, Mr. Aylwin, the fault ain't Sinfi's, not
a bit of it. It's Videy's, wi' her dog-in-the-manger ways. She's a
back-bred un,' he said, giving me a knowing wink as he pulled off his
calf-skin waistcoat and tossed it on to a chair at the further end of
the room with a certainty of aim that would have been marvellous,
even had he been entirely free from market-merriness.
I had before observed that Panuel when market-merry always designated
Videy the 'back-bred un, that took a'ter Shuri's blazin' ole dad!'
When sober his views of heredity changed; the 'back-bred un' was
Sinfi.
After breakfast next morning it was agreed that Panuel and Videy
should walk to the Place to see that everything was going on well,
while Sinfi and I should remain in the bungalow. I observed from the
distance that Videy had loitered behind her father on the Capel Curig
road. I saw a dark shadow of anger pass over Sinfi's face, and I soon
understood what was causing it. The daughter of the well-to-do Panuel
Lovell and my guest was accosting a tourist with, 'Let me tell you
your fortune, my pretty gentleman. Give the poor Gypsy a sixpence for
luck, my gentleman.'
The bungalow delighted Sinfi. 'It's just like a great livin'-waggin,
only more comfortable,' said she.
We spent the entire morning and afternoon there, and much of the next
two days. It certainly seemed to me that her mere presence was an
immense stimulus to memory in vitalising its one image.
'What's the use o' us a-keepin' a-talkin' about Winnie?' Sinfi said
to me one day. 'It on'y makes you fret. You skears me sometimes; for
your eyes are a-gettin' jis' as sad-lookin' as Mr. D'Arcy's eyes, an'
it's all along o' fret-tin'.'
I persuaded her to stay with me while Panuel and Videy went on to
Chester, for she could both soothe and amuse me.