Page 26 of Greatheart


  CHAPTER XXVI

  THE CALL OF APOLLO

  Dinah's strength came back to her in leaps and bounds, and three weeksafter the de Vignes's departure she was almost herself again. The seasonwas drawing to a close. The holidays were over, and English people wereturning homeward. Very reluctantly Isabel had to admit that her chargewas well enough for the journey back. Mrs. Bathurst wrote in an insistentstrain, urging that the time had come for her to return, and no furtherexcuse could be invented for keeping her longer.

  They decided to return themselves and take Dinah to her home, Isabelhaving determined to make the acquaintance of the redoubtable Mrs.Bathurst, and persuade her to spare her darling to them again in thesummer. The coming parting was hard to face, so hard that Dinah could notbear to speak of it. She shed a good many tears in private, as Isabel waswell aware; but she never willingly made any reference to the ordeal sheso dreaded.

  The only time she voluntarily broached the subject was when she entreatedto be allowed to go down to the last dance that was to be held in thehotel. It chanced that this was fixed for the night before their owndeparture, and Isabel demurred somewhat; for though Dinah had shakenoff most of her invalid habits, she was still far from robust.

  "You will be so tired in the morning, darling," she protested gently,while Dinah knelt beside her, earnestly pleading. "You will get thattiresome side-ache, and you won't be fit to travel."

  "I shall--I shall," Dinah assured her. "Oh, please, dear, just thisonce--just this once--let me have this one more fling! I shall never haveanother chance. I'm sure I never shall."

  Isabel's hand stroked the soft dark hair caressingly. She saw that Dinahwas very near to tears. "I don't believe I ought to say Yes, dear child,"she said. "You know I hate to deny you anything. But if it were to do youharm, I should never forgive myself."

  "It couldn't! It shan't!" declared Dinah, almost incoherent in hervehemence. "It isn't as if I wanted to dance every dance. I'd come andsit out with you in between. And if I got tired, you could take me away.I would go directly if you said so. Really I would."

  She was hard to resist, kneeling there with her arms about Isabel and herbright eyes lifted. Isabel took the sweet face between her hands andkissed it.

  "Let me ask Scott what he thinks!" she said. "I want to give in to you,Dinah darling, but it's against my judgment. If it is against hisjudgment too, will you be content to give it up?"

  "Oh, of course," said Dinah instantly. She was confident that Scott--thatkind and gentle friend of hers--would deny her nothing. It seemed almostsuperfluous to ask him.

  The words had scarcely left her lips when his quiet knock came at thesitting-room door, and he entered.

  She looked round at him with a smile of quick welcome. "I'll give it upin a minute if he says so," she said.

  Isabel turned in her chair. "Come here, Stumpy!" she said. "We want youradvice. We are talking about the dance to-night. Dinah has set her hearton going. Would it--do you think it would--do her any harm?"

  Scott came up to them in his halting way. He looked at Dinah pressedclose to his sister's side, and his smile was very kindly as he said,"Poor little Cinderella! It's hard lines; but, you know, the doctor'slast words to you were a warning against over-exerting yourself."

  "But I shouldn't," she assured him eagerly. "Really, truly, I shouldn't!I walked all the way to the village with you yesterday, and wasn't a bittired--or hardly a bit--when I got back."

  "You looked jaded to death," he said.

  "I am afraid it is thumbs down," said Isabel, a touch of regret in hervoice.

  "Oh no,--no!" entreated Dinah. "Mr. Studley, please--please say I may go!I promise I won't dance too much. I promise I'll stop directly I'mtired."

  "My dear child," Scott said, "it would be sheer madness for you toattempt to dance at all. Isabel," he turned to his sister with mostunusual sharpness, "how can you tantalize her in this way? Say No atonce! You know perfectly well she isn't fit for it."

  Isabel made no attempt to argue the point. "You hear, Dinah?" she said.

  A quick throb of anger went through Dinah. She disengaged herselfquickly, and stood up. "Mr. Studley," she said in a voice that quivered,"it's not right--it's not fair! How can you know what is good for me? Andeven if you did, what--what right--" She broke off, trembling and holdingto Isabel's chair to steady herself.

  Scott's eyes, very level, very kind, were looking straight at her in afashion that checked the hot words on her lips. "My child, no rightwhatever," he said. "I have no more power to control your actions thanthe man in the moon. But if you want my approval to your scheme, I can'tgive it you. I don't approve, and because I don't, I tell Isabel that sheought to refuse to carry it through. I have no right to control hereither, but I think my opinion means something to her. I hope it does atleast."

  He looked at Isabel, but she said nothing. Only she put her arm aboutDinah as she stood.

  There followed a few moments of very difficult silence; then abruptly themutiny went out of Dinah's face and attitude.

  "I'm horrid," she said, in a voice half-choked. "Forgive me! You--youshouldn't spoil me so."

  "Oh, don't, please!" said Scott. "I am infernally sorry. I know what itmeans to you."

  He took out his cigarette-case and turned away with a touch ofembarrassment. She saw that for some reason he was moved.

  Impulsively she left Isabel and came to him. "Don't think any more aboutit!" she said. "I'll go to bed and be good."

  "You always are," said Scott, faintly smiling.

  "No, no, I'm not! What a fib! You know I'm not. But I'm going to be goodthis time--so that you shall have something nice to remember me by."Dinah's voice quivered still, but she managed to smile.

  He gave her a quick look. "You will always be the pleasantest memory Ihave," he said.

  The words were quietly spoken, so quietly that they sounded almostmatter-of-fact. But Dinah flushed with pleasure, detecting the sincerityin his voice.

  "It's very nice of you to say that," she said, "especially as I deserveit so little. Thank you, Mr.--Scott!" She uttered the name timidly. Shehad never ventured to use it before.

  He held out his hand to her. "Oh, drop the prefix!" he said. "Call meStumpy like the rest of the world!"

  But Dinah shook her head with vehemence. There were tears standing in hereyes, but she smiled through them. "I will not call you Stumpy!" shedeclared. "It doesn't suit you a bit. I never even think of you by thatname. It--it is perfectly ludicrous applied to you!"

  "Some people think I am ludicrous," observed Scott.

  His hand grasped hers firmly for a moment, and let it go. The steadfastfriendliness in his eyes shone out like a beacon. And there came to Dinaha swift sense of great and uplifting pride at the thought that shenumbered this man among her friends.

  The moment passed, but the warmth at her heart remained. She went back toIsabel, and slipped down into the shelter of her arm, feeling oddly shyand also inexplicably happy. Her disappointment had shrunk to anegligible quantity. She even wondered at herself for having cared sogreatly about so trifling a matter.

  There came the firm tread of a man's feet outside the door, and it swungopen. Eustace entered with his air of high confidence.

  "Ah, Stumpy, there you are! I want you. Well, Miss Bathurst, what aboutto-night?"

  She faced him bravely from Isabel's side. "I've promised to go to bedearly, as usual," she said.

  "What? You're not dancing?" She saw his ready frown. "Well, you will comeand look on anyway. Isabel, you must show for once."

  He spoke imperiously. Isabel looked up. "I am sorry, Eustace. It is outof the question," she said coldly. "Both Dinah and I are retiring earlyin preparation for to-morrow."

  He bit his lip. "This is too bad. Miss Bathurst, don't you want to comedown? It's for the last time."

  Dinah hesitated, and Scott came quietly to her rescue.

  "She is being prudent against her own inclination, old chap. Don't makeit hard for her!"


  "What a confounded shame!" said Eustace.

  "No, no, it isn't!" said Dinah. "It is quite right. I am not going tothink any more about it."

  He laughed with a touch of mockery. "Which means you will probably thinkabout it all night. Well, you will have the reward of virtue anyhow,which ought to be very satisfying. Come along, Stumpy! I want you tocatch the post."

  He bore his brother off with him, and Dinah went rather wistfully to helpBiddy pack. She had done right, she knew; but it was difficult to stiflethe regret in her heart. She had so longed for that one last dance, andit seemed to her that she had treated Sir Eustace somewhat shabbily also.She was sure that he was displeased, and the thought of it troubled her.For she had almost promised him that last dance.

  "Arrah thin, Miss Dinah dear, don't ye look so sad at all!" counselledBiddy. "Good times pass, but there's always good times to come whileye're young. And it's the bonny face ye've got on ye. Sure, there'll be afine wedding one of these days. There's a prince looking for ye, or mename's not Biddy Maloney."

  Dinah tried to smile, but her heart was heavy. She could not shareBiddy's cheery belief in the good times to come, and she was quite surethat no prince would ever come her way.

  Sir Eustace--that king among men--might think of her sometimes, but notseriously, oh no, not seriously. He had so many other interests. It wasonly her dancing that drew him, and he would never have anotheropportunity of enjoying that.

  She rested in the afternoon at Isabel's desire, but she did not sleep.Some teasing sprite had set a waltz refrain running in her brain, and ithaunted her perpetually. She went down to the vestibule with Isabel fortea, and here Scott joined them; but Sir Eustace did not put in anappearance. In their company she sought to be cheerful, and in a measuresucceeded; but the thought of the morrow pressed upon her. In anotherbrief twenty-four hours this place where she had first known the wonderand the glory of life would know her no more. In two days she would beback in the old bondage, chained once more to the oar, with the dread ofher mother ever present in her heart, however fair the world might be.

  She could keep her depression more or less at bay in the presence of herfriends, but when later she went to her room to prepare for dinnersomething like desperation seized her. How was she going to bear it? Onelast wild fling would have helped her, but this inaction made thingsinfinitely worse, made things intolerable.

  While she dressed, she waged a fierce struggle against her tears. Sheknew that Isabel would be greatly distressed should she detect them, andto hurt Isabel seemed to her the acme of selfish cruelty. She would notgive way! She would not!

  And then--suddenly she heard a step in the corridor, and her heart leapt.Well she knew that careless, confident tread! But what was he doingthere? Why had he come to her door?

  With bated breath she stood and listened. Yes, he had paused. In a momentshe heard a rustle on the floor. A screw of paper appeared under the dooras though blown in by a wandering wind. Then the careless feet retreatedagain, and she thought she heard him whistling below his breath.

  Eagerly she swooped forward and snatched up the note. Her hands shook sothat she could scarcely open it. Trembling, she stood under the light toread it.

  It was headed in a bold hand: "To Daphne." And below in much smallerwriting she read: "Come to the top of the stairs when the band plays_Simple Aveu_, and leave the rest to me.

  "APOLLO."

  A wild thrill went through her. But could she? Dared she? Had she notpractically promised Isabel that she would go to bed?

  Yet how could she go, and leave this direct invitation, which was almosta command, unanswered? And it was only one dance--only one dance! Wouldit be so very wrong to snatch just that one?

  The thought of Scott came to her and the look of sincerity in his eyeswhen he had told her that she would always be the pleasantest memory hehad. But she thrust it from her almost fiercely. Ah no, no, no! She couldnot let him deprive her thus of this one last gaiety. Apollo had calledher. It only remained for her to obey.

  She dressed in a fever of excitement, and hid the note--that preciousnote--in her bosom. She would meet him at dinner, and he would look foran answer. How should she convey it? And oh, what answer should she give?

  Looking back afterwards, it seemed to her that Fate had pressed her hardthat night,--so hard that resistance was impossible. When she was dressedin the almost childishly simple muslin she looked herself in the eyes andfancied that there was something in her face that she had never seenthere before. It was something that pleased her immensely giving her astrangely new self-confidence. She did not wot that it was the charm ofher coming womanhood that had burst into sudden flower.

  At the last moment she cast all her scruples away from her, and snatchedup a slip of paper.

  "I will be there. Daphne," were the words she wrote, and though herconscience smote her as she did it, she stifled it fiercely. Had she notpromised him that one dance long ago?

  She met him at dinner with a face of smiling unconcern. The new forcewithin had imbued her with a wondrous strength. She exulted in thethought of her power over him, transient though she knew it to be. Deepdown in her heart she was afraid, yet was she wildly daring. It was herlast night, and she was utterly reckless.

  She left her note in his hand with the utmost coolness when she bade himgood night in the vestibule. She bade good night to Scott also, but shemet his eyes for no more than a second; and then she had to stifle afreshthe sharp pang at her heart.

  She went away up the stairs with Isabel, leaving them smoking over theircoffee, leaving also the dreamy strains of the band, the gay laughter andmovement of the happy crowd that drifted towards the ballroom.

  Isabel accompanied her to her room. "You are a dear, good child," shesaid tenderly, as she held her for a last kiss. "I shall never forget howsweetly you gave up the thing you wanted so much."

  Dinah clung to her fast for a moment or two, and her hold was passionate."Oh, don't praise me for that!" she whispered into Isabel's neck. "I amnot good at all. I am very bad."

  She almost tore herself free a second later, and Isabel, divining thatany further demonstration from her would cause a breakdown, bade her aloving good night and went away.

  Dinah stood awhile struggling for self-control. She had been perilouslynear to baring her soul to Isabel in those moments of tenderness. Evennow the impulse urged her to run after her and tell her of the temptationto which she was yielding. She forced it down with clenched hands,telling herself over and over that it was her last chance, her lastchance, and she must not lose it. And so at length it passed; and with itpassed also the pricks of conscience that had so troubled her. Sheemerged from the brief struggle with a sense of mad triumph. The spiritof adventure had entered into her, and she no longer paused to count thecost.

  "I expect I shall be sorry in the morning," she said to herself. "Butto-night--oh, to-night--nothing matters except Apollo!"

  She whisked to the door and set it ajar. The dance-music drew her, drewher, like the voice of a siren. For that one night she would live again.She would feel his arm about her and the magic in her brain. Already herfeet yearned to the alluring rhythm. She leaned against the door-post,and gave herself up to her dream. Yet once more the wine of the gods washeld to her lips. She would drink deeply, deeply.