Part 6 (1/2)
CHAPTER SIX.
ABOUT SOME DALLYING.
John Ames was beginning to enjoy his leave, and that actively.
At first he had done so in a negative kind of way. It was pleasant to have nothing to do, and plenty of time to do it in, to rise in the morning and know that until bedtime at night he had only to please himself and take no thought for anything whatever. He had a few acquaintance in the neighbourhood, more or less busy people whose avocations kept them in Cape Town throughout the working day, and so was mostly thrown upon his own resources. This, however, was not without its advantages, for the change had hardly benefited him much as yet, and he was conscious of a sort of mental languor which rendered him rather disinclined than otherwise for the society of his fellows. He liked to mount his bicycle and spin for miles along the smooth level roads, beneath the oak and fir shade, the towering wall of mountain glimpsed ever and anon athwart the trees; or, gaining the nearest point of sea sh.o.r.e, lie on the beach for hours, watching the rollers come tumbling in, and the revels of bathers skipping amid the surf. Hitherto he had been content to do all this alone, now he was not; and the name of the agency which had effected this change was Nidia Commerell.
Nearly a fortnight has gone by since we introduced that entrancing personality to the reader's notice; and whatever effects the same had had upon John Ames, one at any rate was certain, viz. a conviction that it was not good to be alone.
They had seen a good deal of each other within that time. Nidia had carried out to the full her expressed intention of using him as an escort, and he, for his part, had gladly welcomed the _role_, and efficiently discharged it; and whether it was along bicycle ride, or a more remote expedition by rail, or a scramble up the Devil's Peak, that commended itself to the two ladies for the day's programme, there was John Ames in sure and faithful attendance. It did him good, too. There was an ingredient in the tonic which was stimulating, life-giving indeed, and now in this daily companions.h.i.+p he felt that life was worth living. Decidedly he had begun to enjoy his leave.
”Well, Susie, wasn't I justified in my prediction?” said Nidia to her friend, as they were dressing for dinner after one of these expeditions.
”Which prediction? You make so many.”
”Concerning John Ames,”--for so they had got into the way of designating him when alone together.
”I said he looked as if he were nice, and also that he would come in handy as an escort for two unprotected females. Well, he is both.
Isn't he?”
”Yes; he is a remarkably well-mannered, pleasant man.”
”With more than two ideas in his head?”
”Yes; he can talk intelligently on any subject, and if he knows nothing about it won't pretend to.”
”As is the case with the average turned-out-of-a-bandbox, eyeward-twisting-moustache type of Apollo one usually encounters in one's progress through this vale of woe,” supplied Nidia, with an airy laugh.
”That holds good, too. But, gracious Heavens, child, don't pile up your adjectives in that mountainous fas.h.i.+on, or you'll reflect no credit on my most careful training and tuition.”
”All rights Govvie,” cried Nidia, with a peal of merry laughter--the point of the allusion being that prior to her marriage Susie Bateman had been a combination of companion and governess to the girl she was now chaperoning; in fact, was a distant relation to boot. ”But the said careful training was such a long time ago. I'm beginning to forget it.”
”Long time ago!”
”Yes, it was. In the days of my youth. I am in my twenty-fourth year, remember. Is that nothing?”
”Of course it's nothing. But--what were we talking about?”
”Oh, John Ames, as usual.”
”As usual--yes. But, Nidia, isn't it rather rough on the man? He's sure to end by falling in love with you.”
Again the girl laughed, but this time she changed colour ever so slightly.
”To _end_ by it! That's not very complimentary to my transcendent fascinations, O Susie. He ought to begin by it. But--to be serious-- perfectly serious--he isn't that sort.”
”I'm not by any means sure. Why should you think so?”
”No signs. He'd have hung out signals long ago if he'd been trending that way. They all do. The monotony of the procedure is simply wearisome.”