Greatheart

  CHAPTER XIII

  FRIENDSHIP IN THE DESERT

  On the edge of the rink immediately below the hotel, a slight figure wasstanding, patient as the Sphinx, awaiting them.

  Sir Eustace's keen eyes lighted upon it from afar. "There is my brother,"he said. "We will go and speak to him if you have no objection."

  Dinah received the suggestion with eagerness. She was possessed for themoment by an urgent desire to get back to the commonplace. She had beenwhirled off her feet, and albeit the flight had held rapture, she had adesperate longing to tread solid ground once more.

  Possibly her companion shared something of this feeling. The game washis, but there was no more to be won from her that night. The time hadcome to descend from the heights to the dull and banal levels. He divinedher wish to return to earth, and he had no reason for thwarting it. Witha careless laugh he put on speed and rushed her dizzily through thethrong.

  To Dinah it was as a rapid fall through space. She felt as if she hadbeen suddenly shot from the gates of Olympus. She reached Scott, flushedand breathless and quivering still with the wonder of it.

  He greeted her courteously. "Are you having a good time, Miss Bathurst?"

  She answered him gaspingly. Somehow it was an immense relief to findherself by his side. "Yes; a glorious time. But I am coming off now. Haveyou--have you seen anything of Lady Grace or the Colonel?"

  "I have just had the pleasure of making Lady Grace's acquaintance," hesaid. "Are you really coming off now? Have you had enough?"

  She passed over his last question, for the wonder pierced her if she hadnot had too much. "Yes, really. I am going to change my boots. I leftthem somewhere here. I wonder where they are. Ah, there they are againstthe railing! No, please don't! I can manage quite well. I would rather."

  She sat down on the bank, and bent her hot face over her task.

  The two brothers remained near her. Scott was apparently waiting for her.They exchanged a few low words.

  "I'll do my level best, old chap," she heard Scott say. "But if I don'tsucceed, it can't be helped. Rome wasn't built in a day."

  Eustace made an impatient sound, and muttered something in a whisper.

  "No," Scott said in answer. "Not that! Never with my consent. It wouldn'tdo, man! I tell you it wouldn't do. Can't you take my word for it?"

  "You're as obstinate as a mule, Stumpy," his brother said, in tones ofirritation. "It'll come to it sooner or later. You're only prolonging theagony."

  "I am doing my best," Scott said gravely. "Give me credit for that atleast!"

  Sir Eustace clapped a sudden hand on his shoulder. "No one doubts that,my boy. You're true gold. But it's sheer foolishness to go on in the sameold way that's proved a failure a hundred times. In heaven's name, nowthat we've hauled her out of that infernal groove, don't let idioticsentimentality spoil everything! Don't shy at the consequences! I'll beresponsible for them."

  Dinah glanced up. She saw that for the moment she was forgotten. Thelight was shining upon Scott's face, and she read in it undeniableperplexity, but the eyes were steadfast and wholly calm.

  He even smiled a little as he said, "My dear chap, have you everconsidered the consequences of anything--counted the cost before you cameto pay? No, never!"

  "Don't preach to me!" Eustace said sharply.

  "No. I won't. But don't you talk in that airy way about responsibilityto me! Because--" Scott's smile broadened and became openlyaffectionate--"it just won't go down, dear fellow! I can't swallowcamels--never could."

  "You can strain at gnats though," commented Sir Eustace, pivoting roundon his skates. "Well, you know my sentiments. I haven't put my foot downyet. But I'm going to--pretty soon. It's got to be done. And if you can'tbring yourself to it,--well, I shall, that's all."

  He was gone with the words, swift as an arrow, leaving behind him a spaceso empty that Dinah felt a sudden queer little pang of desolation.

  Scott remained motionless, deep in thought, for the passage of severalseconds. Then abruptly the consciousness of her presence came upon him,and he turned to her. She was sitting on the bank looking up at him withfrank interest. Their eyes met.

  And then a very curious thing happened to Dinah. She flinched under hislook, flinched and averted her own. A great shyness suddenly surgedthrough her, a quivering, overmastering sense of embarrassment. For inthat moment she viewed the flight to Olympus as he would have viewed it,and was horribly, overwhelmingly ashamed. She could not break thesilence. She had no words to utter--no possible means at hand by which tocover her discomfiture.

  It was he who spoke, in his voice a tinge of restraint. "I was going toask if it would bore you to come and see my sister again this evening. Ihave obtained Lady Grace's permission for you to do so."

  She sprang to her feet. "Of course--of course I would love to!" she saidrather incoherently. "How could it bore me? I--I should like it--morethan anything."

  He smiled faintly, and held out his hand for the boots she had justdiscarded. "That is more than kind of you," he said. "My sister wasafraid you might not want to come."

  "Of course I want to come!" maintained Dinah. "Oh no, thank you; Icouldn't let you carry my boots. How clever of you to tackle Lady Grace!What did she say?"

  "Neither she nor the Colonel made any difficulty about it at all," Scottsaid. "I told them my sister was an invalid. Lady Grace said that I mustnot keep you after ten, and I promised I wouldn't."

  His manner was kindly and quizzical, and Dinah's embarrassment began topass. But he discomfited her afresh as they walked across the road bysaying, "You have made it up with my brother, I see."

  Dinah's cheeks burned again. "Yes," she said, after a moment. "We made itup this afternoon."

  "That was very lucky--for him," observed Scott rather dryly.

  Dinah made a swift leap for the commonplace. "I hate being cross withpeople," she said, "or to have them cross with me; don't you?"

  "I think it is sometimes unavoidable," said Scott gravely.

  "Oh, surely you are never cross!" said Dinah impetuously. "I can'timagine it."

  "Wait till you see it!" said Scott, with a smile.

  They entered the hotel together. Dinah was tingling with excitement. Shehad managed to escape from her discomfiture, but she still felt that anyprolonged intercourse with the man beside her would bring it back. Shewas beginning to know Scott as one who would not hesitate to say exactlywhat he thought, and not for all she possessed in the world would shehave had him know what had passed in that far corner of the rink so shorta time before.

  She chattered inconsequently upon ordinary topics as they ascended thestairs together, but when they reached the door of Isabel's sitting-roomshe became suddenly shy again.

  "Hadn't I better run and take off my things?" she whispered. "I feel sountidy."

  He looked at her. She was clad in the white woollen cap and coat that shehad worn in the day. Her eyes were alight and sparkling, her brown faceflushed. She looked the very incarnation of youth.

  "I think she will like to see you as you are," said Scott.

  He knocked upon the door three times as before, and in a moment openedit.

  "Go in, won't you?" he said, standing back.

  Dinah entered.

  "Ah! She has come!" A hollow voice said, and in a moment her shyness wasgone.

  She moved forward eagerly, saw Isabel seated in a low chair, andimpulsively went to her. "How kind you are to ask me to come again!" shesaid.

  And then all in a moment Isabel's arms came out to her, and she slippeddown upon her knees beside her into their close embrace.

  "How kind of you to come, dear child!" Isabel murmured. "I am afraid itis a visit to the desert for you."

  "But I love to come!" Dinah told her with warm lips raised. "I can't tellyou how much. I was never so happy before. Each day seems lovelier thanthe last."

  Isabel kissed her lingeringly, tenderly. "My dear, you have a happyheart," she said. "Tell me what you have been doing since I saw
youlast!"

  She would have let her go, but Dinah clung to her still, her cheekagainst her shoulder. "I have been very frivolous, dear Mrs. Everard,"she said. "I have done lots of things. This afternoon we were luging, andnow I have just come from the carnival, I wish you could have been there.Some people are wearing the most horrible masks. Billy--my brother--has abeauty. He made it himself. I rather wanted it to wear, but he wouldn'tpart with it."

  "You could never wear a mask, sweetheart," Isabel said, clasping thesmall brown hand in hers. "Your face is too sweet a thing to hide."

  Dinah hugged her in naive delight. "I always thought I was ugly before,"she said.

  Isabel's face wore a wan smile. She stroked the girl's soft cheek. "Mydear, no one with a heart like yours could have an ugly face. How did youenjoy your dance with Eustace last night?"

  Dinah bent her head a little, wishing earnestly that Scott were not inthe room. "I loved it," she said in a low voice.

  "And afterwards?" questioned Isabel. "No one was vexed with you, I hope?"

  Dinah hesitated. "Colonel de Vigne wasn't best pleased, I'm afraid," shesaid, after a moment.

  "He scolded you!" said Isabel, swift regret in her voice. "I am so sorry,dear child. I ought to have gone to look after you. I was selfish."

  "Oh no--indeed!" Dinah protested. "It was entirely my own fault. He wouldhave been cross in any case. They are like that."

  Isabel uttered a sigh. "I shall have to try to meet them. Naturally theywill not let you come to total strangers. Stumpy, remind me in themorning! I must manage somehow to meet this child's guardians."

  "Of course, dear," said Scott.

  Dinah, glancing towards him, saw him exchange a swift look with the oldnurse in the background, but his voice held neither surprise norgratification. He took out a cigarette and began to smoke.

  Isabel leaned back in her chair with abrupt weariness as if in reactionfrom the strain of a sudden unwonted exertion. "Let me see! Do I knowyour Christian name? Ah yes,--Dinah! What a pretty gipsy name! I thinkyou are a little gipsy, are you not? You have the charm of the woodsabout you. Won't you sit in that chair, dear? You can't be comfortable onthe floor."

  But Dinah preferred to sit down against her knee, still holding theslender, inert hand.

  "Tell me about your home!" Isabel said, closing languid eyes. "I can'ttalk much more, but I can listen. It does not tire me to listen."

  Dinah hesitated somewhat. "I don't think you would find it veryinteresting," she said.

  "But I am interested," Isabel said. "You live in the country, I think yousaid."

  "At a place called Perrythorpe," Dinah said. "It's a great huntingcountry. My father hunts a lot and shoots too."

  "Do you hunt?" asked Isabel.

  "Oh no, never! There's never any time. I go for rambles sometimes onSundays. Other days I am always busy. Fancy me hunting!" said Dinah, witha little laugh.

  "I used to," said Isabel. "They always said I should end with a brokenneck. But I never did."

  "Are you very fond of riding?" asked Dinah.

  "Not now, dear. I am not fond of anything now. Tell me some more, won'tyou? What makes you so busy that you never have time for any fun?"

  Again Dinah hesitated. "You see, we're poor," she said. "My mother and Ido all the work of the house and garden too."

  "And your father is able to hunt?" Isabel's eyes opened. Her hand closedupon Dinah's caressingly.

  "Oh yes, he has always hunted," Dinah said. "I don't think he could dowithout it. He would find it so dull."

  "I see," said Isabel. "But he can't afford pleasures for you."

  There was no perceptible sarcasm in her voice, but Dinah coloured alittle and went at once to her father's defence.

  "He sends Billy to a public school. Of course I--being only a girl--don'tcount. And he has sent us out here, which was very good of him--thesweetest thing he has ever done. He had a lucky speculation the otherday, and he has spent it nearly all on us. Wasn't that kind of him?"

  "Very kind, dear," said Isabel gently. "How long are you to have outhere?"

  "Only three weeks, and half the time is gone already," sighed Dinah. "Thede Vignes are not staying longer. The Colonel is a J.P., and much tooimportant to stay away for long. And they are going to have a largehouse-party. There isn't much more than a week left now." She sighedagain.

  "And then you will have no more fun at all?" asked Isabel.

  "Not a scrap--nothing but work." Dinah's voice quivered a little. "Idon't suppose it has been very good for me coming out here," she said."I--I believe I'm much too fond of gaiety really."

  Isabel's hand touched her cheek. "Poor little girl!" she said. "But youwouldn't like to leave your mother to do all the drudgery alone."

  "Oh yes, I should," said Dinah, with a touch of recklessness. "I'd nevergo back if I could help it. I love Dad of course; but--" She paused.

  "You don't love your mother?" supplemented Isabel.

  Dinah leaned her face suddenly against the caressing hand. "Not much, I'mafraid," she whispered.

  "Poor little girl!" Isabel murmured again compassionately.