Part 59 (1/2)

For all that, I think you'll get a shock if Edgar brings her home.”

”That is not George's opinion. We wrote to him.”

Sylvia laughed.

”He would believe in anybody who looked innocent and pretty.”

Ethel's expression hardened; Sylvia had not been considerate.

”I don't think that's true. He's generous, and though he has made mistakes, it was only because his confidence was misled with a highly finished skill. One wouldn't look for the same ability in a girl brought up in a primitive western town.”

”After all,” said Sylvia tranquilly, ”she is a girl, and no doubt Edgar is worth powder and shot from her point of view.”

”It doesn't seem to be a commercial one,” Ethel retorted. ”Stephen had a very straightforward letter from this storekeeper. But I'm inclined to think I had better go on with my writing.”

Sylvia moved away. She had no reason for being gracious to Ethel, and she took some pleasure in irritating her.

In a few minutes Bland came in. The hall was large, and Ethel was hidden from him in the recess. He strode toward Sylvia eagerly, but she checked him with a gesture.

”You have come back early,” she said. ”Wasn't the sport good? What has become of Kettering and the others?”

The man looked a little surprised. This was hardly the greeting he had expected, after having been promised a quiet half-hour with Sylvia; but, looking round, he saw the skirt of Ethel's dress and understood.

Had it been George she wished to warn, she would have used different means; but Bland, she was thankful, was not hypercritical.

”The sport was poor,” he told her. ”The pheasants aren't very strong yet, and it was hard to drive them out of the covers. As I'd only a light water-proof, I got rather wet outside the last wood and I left the others. Kettering wanted to see the keeper about to-morrow's beat, but I didn't wait.”

”Since you have been in the rain all day, you had better have some tea,” said Sylvia. ”They'll bring it here, if you ring.”

He followed her to a small table across the hall, and after a tray had been set before them they sat talking in low voices. Presently Bland laid his hand on Sylvia's arm.

”You know why I came down,” he said. ”I must go back to-morrow and I want the announcement made before I leave.”

Sylvia blushed and lowered her eyes.

”Oh, well,” she conceded, ”you have really been very patient, and perhaps it would be hardly fair to make you wait any longer.”

Bland took her hand and held it fast.

”You are worth waiting for! But there were times when it was very hard not to rebel. I'd have done so, only I was afraid.”

”You did rebel.”

”Not to much purpose. Though no one would suspect it from your looks, you're a very determined person, Sylvia. Now I don't know how to express my feelings; I want to do something dramatic, even if it's absurd, and I can't even speak aloud. Couldn't you have got rid of Miss West by some means?”

”How could I tell what you wished to say?” Sylvia asked with a shy smile. ”Besides, Ethel wouldn't go. She stuck there in the most determined fas.h.i.+on!”

”Then we'll have to disregard her. It must be early next year, Sylvia.

I'll see Lansing to-morrow.”

He continued in a quietly exultant strain, and Sylvia felt relieved that her fate was decided. She had some time ago led him to believe she would marry him; but she had, with vague misgivings and prompted by half-understood reasons, put off a definite engagement. Now she had given her pledge, and though she thought of George with faint regret, she was on the whole conscious of satisfaction. Bland, she believed, had a good deal to offer her which she could not have enjoyed with his rival.