"You describe a--"
"Flirt. Anne would not deny it if you charged her."
Her words in the boat were recalled by a reluctant memory; with them
came the charm of her voice, her smile, more powerful than words. He
started up, and stood leaning against the railing of the balcony.
"It comes to this. You and I read differently. I think you unjust to
your friend, you hold me a fool. Of the two, I prefer the _role_ of
fool. But whichever turns out right, I don't see that we can do
anything except wait, for it is certainly Miss Dalrymple who must tell
Hugh to go or stay. Unless you have that authority?"
"I!" She shook her head. "Anne's chaperons are dummies, they don't
interfere. Besides, I couldn't be bothered. I don't even know why I
have talked to you, except that A one and Mr Forbes will not be amusing
companions this morning."
Wareham was cheered by the touch of feminine spite in this speech, the
more so as he had seen Hugh cross the garden forlornly. He inquired
what might be Mrs Martyn's plans for the future.
"I suppose my husband will return to-day, and then I shall insist upon
going as far as Vadheim to-morrow night. Do you mean to come with us to
the Geiranger? You had better, for I can't be responsible for your
friend."
"Thanks. But I shall get back this week." Decision had stepped in so
promptly that there was no time for regret to interpose, although she
hung helplessly on his skirts. Mrs Martyn raised her eyebrows.
"You go with the Ravenhills? They mean to secure berths in the
_Ceylon_, which is expected here to-day."
"I dare say that will suit me."
When he left her he would not seek Hugh, but went to the little office
from whence letters are dispensed, with a feeble dream of lighting upon
his own. Failing in this he betook himself to the road, and presently
came upon Mrs Ravenhill sketching, and Millie enticing half-a-dozen
small children away from her mother by means of barley-sugar. The girls
hushed themselves with awe and delight, the boy, all one broad laugh,
flourished sticky fingers, and threatened to descend upon the paper, in
spite of reproachful cries of "_Daarlig Olaf_!" At sight of Wareham he
fled.
"And I breathe," said Mrs Ravenhill.
"But he was much the nicest," declared Millie. "All the grown-up people
are so grave, that it is a comfort to see one having a good time while
he is young. He was not really so very naughty, though his sisters were
dreadfully scandalised. Think of their all living in those lovely
cottages!"
And indeed the group of houses which Mrs Ravenhill was drawing made a
perfectly harmonious note of colour. The sky delicate broken grey, the
hill behind, grey also, running down in fine outline; against this a
group of houses, red-roofed one or two, timber-pitched another, gabled,
white-plastered, jutting out, running back, and set in waving emerald
rye. Where the rye ended, long flowery grass began, and grew down to
the foot of the bank where the children were playing. A woman with a
white handkerchief on her head, and carrying two pails with a yoke, came
down the little path which the thick grass hid from view; the
swift-driven clouds cast swift soft shadows, the air was sweet with
hay-making.
Wareham was in the state of mind when this soothed, because it seemed
apart from the world of men and women, as represented by Mrs Martyn.
He had gone to her feeling that the dearest part of him was sacredly
wrapped up and invisible, and with shaking shoulders she had plucked it
forth, and given him to understand that she knew all about it. The man
must be more than usually magnanimous who does not chafe at insight from
which he suffers. Here were women who made no pretence at insight.
With them he felt healthfully at ease. And so scaly-strong is the
coating behind which we flatter ourselves we are entrenched, that
nothing could have more amazed him than to know that Millie, simple
soul, read through him as easily as, and more truly than Mrs Martyn.
He said suddenly at last--
"How do you return to England, Mrs Ravenhill?"
"Not as we came." She shuddered. "The _Ceylon_ tourist steamer will be
here to-day. I am told that she is an old P. and O., and very
comfortable, and that we can get berths in her."
"But you don't go on board to-day?" Brace himself he must, but hardly
to the extent of leaving so abruptly.
"No. We shall meet her at Bergen on Friday."
He asked to be allowed to take their berths, and let fall something to
the effect that if there was another to spare, he might secure it for
himself.
"You will have had a short holiday." Mrs Ravenhill added a little
vermilion to her roofs, and sighed hopelessly over the flowery grass.
Millie tried to check her heart's throb.
"You come to Fjaerland to-day?" she hazarded.
They were all to go, it appeared, and Wareham agreed eagerly. What did
it matter so long as he refrained from a word? Of course he would go.
He sunned himself in the anticipation.