CHAPTER III.

  "HUMMIN' BIRD'S WESKIT."

  At a quarter past two that afternoon, Amaryllis, with her bull-dog, setout for a walk.

  Her father was in the laboratory, ostensibly at work, and Sir Randal,beaming expectant, had driven off to St. Albans.

  Tea-time, or even dinner was early enough, thought Amaryllis, to meetthe new-comer; and then, in spite of the mixture of bewilderment, prideand regret which oppressed her, she remembered the words of the Americanin the Cape Town bar: "Eyes blue as a hummin' bird's weskit."

  "How absurd!" she exclaimed, laughing to herself.

  Then she sighed, and was quite sure she really wanted to be alone, andset herself, as she strolled down through the hazel copse towards theLondon road, to think seriously of Randal Bellamy and his offer.

  But the trouble was that Miss Caldegard had never seen a humming bird,and therefore found herself brooding on the blueness of all the bluethings in her experience, from willow-pattern china to the waters of theMediterranean, instead of considering the answer which she must give toRandal on Friday.

  A quarter of a mile of winding path led her downward to the level of theroad. When she reached the stile, her thought was still far from thematter she had promised to consider.

  She turned to call her dog, and, knowing his insatiable curiosity, wasless surprised than annoyed to find that she had let him stray. Shecould not remember whether she had last seen him behind her, in front,or blundering through the undergrowth, still confident, in spite ofperpetual disappointment, in his power to overtake a rabbit.

  Now the dog's temper, admirable with his friends, was uncertain withstrangers, and Amaryllis was accustomed to keep him close at heel inpublic places. So, having whistled and called in vain, she crossed thestile and looked down the road towards Iddingfield.

  There was the tiresome beast, if you please, a hundred yards away,gambolling clumsily round the legs of a man walking towards her.

  Her second whistle brought the animal to a sense of duty, and he trottedtowards her, with many pauses to look back reluctantly at his newfriend.

  She caught the dog's collar with the crook of her stick, and bent down,slapping his muzzle in mild reproof.

  As the stranger passed, his glance was downward, for the dog, ratherthan the woman. As she stood erect, she saw him standing with his backtowards her, in the middle of the road, with face turned to the stileshe had just crossed.

  Then he swung round, raising his hat as he approached her.

  "Please tell me if that path leads to the Manor House," he said.

  Amaryllis saw a tall, well-made figure, a face clean-shaven and deeplysun-burnt, and under the lifted hat caught a glimpse of sleek blackhair. But when she saw his eyes, she knew his name, for they were thebluest she had ever seen.

  "Yes," she said. "I think you must be Mr. Richard Bellamy."

  "I am," he said. "How did you know?"

  "Sir Randal Bellamy was telling us about you," she answered. "I am MissCaldegard. My father and I are staying with Sir Randal. Yes, over thestile is your quickest way to the house." And she looked down the road.

  "Aren't you coming, too?" asked Dick Bellamy.

  Amaryllis looked at him for a moment.

  "Perhaps I'd better," she said, going towards the stile.

  "Why 'better'?" he asked.

  "There is no one to receive you," she replied. "Besides, the villageisn't very interesting."

  "Awful," said Dick. "Worst beer in England."

  Amaryllis did not reply. When they were amongst the trees, he spokeagain.

  "I know Randal was to meet me at St. Albans, but I 'phoned fromIddingfield and told 'em to send him back at once. I got my car backfrom the vet. at mid-day, and if I hadn't had a bit of a smash justoutside Iddingfield, I'd have got here before."

  Amaryllis was a quick walker, and had set a good pace up the slope fromthe stile. Suddenly she remembered her companion's nick-name, and,slackening her speed, involuntarily glanced down to see if indeed thisman were lame.

  He came up beside her.

  "It's all right, Miss Caldegard," he said kindly. "My action's ablemish, not a handicap."

  "Oh, Mr. Bellamy!" she said. "I never even noticed it until thisminute."

  "I thought that was how you recognised me in the road," said the man.

  "It wasn't that," said Amaryllis, and in fear of further questioning,whistled her dog back to the path.

  "Silly old thing," she said. "He won't believe that Mr. Bunny is tooquick for him; he's never caught one yet except in his dreams."

  They were making their way towards the house when they heard the cardrive up to the front door, and before they reached the windows of thedining-room, Randal Bellamy turned the corner.

  Amaryllis stood apart watching with a certain curiosity the meeting ofthe brothers.

  The elder's face was beaming with welcome, the younger's she could notsee, but something in his bearing suggested a pleasure no less. All sheheard, however, was: "Hullo, young 'un!" and "Hullo, Bill!"

  And, when they came towards her, the expression of the two faces wasthat of men who, having breakfasted together, had met again at luncheon.

  "Somebody's forestalled my solemn introduction, I see," said Randal.

  "Gorgon performed the ceremony," said Amaryllis.

 
Oliver Fleming's Novels