Part 22 (1/2)

She had recovered from her nervousness, she was natural and delightful, and although the peculiar situation was filling Denzil with excitement and emotion, he was too much a man of the world to experience any _gene_.

So they talked for a while with friendliness upon interesting things.

Then a pause came and Amaryllis looked out of the window, and Denzil had time to grow aware that he must hold himself with a tighter hand, a sense almost of intoxication had begun to steal over him.

Suddenly Amaryllis grew very pale and her eyelids flickered a little; for the first time in her life she felt faint.

He bent forward in anxiety as she leaned her head against the cus.h.i.+oned division.

”Oh! what is it, you poor little darling! what can I do for you?” he exclaimed, unconscious that he had used a word of endearment; but even though things had grown vague for her Amaryllis caught the tenderly p.r.o.nounced 'darling' and, physically ill as she felt, her spirit thrilled with some agreeable surprise. He came nearer and pus.h.i.+ng up the padded divisions between the seats, he lifted her as though she had been a baby and laid her flat down. He got out his flask from his dressing bag and poured some brandy between her pale lips, then he rubbed her hands, murmuring he knew not what of commiseration. She looked so fragile and helpless and the probable reason of her indisposition was of such infinite solicitude to himself.

”To think that she is feeling like that because--Ah!--and I may not even kiss her and comfort her, or tell her I adore her and understand.” So his thoughts ran.

Presently Amaryllis sat up and opened her eyes. She had not actually fainted, but for a few moments everything had grown dim and she was not certain of what had happened, or if she had dreamed that Denzil had spoken a love word, or whether it was true--she smiled feebly.

”I did feel so queer,” she explained. ”How silly of me! I have never felt faint before--it is stupid”--and then she blushed deeply, remembering what certainly must be the cause.

”I am going to open the window wide,” he said, appreciating the blush, and let it down. ”You ought not to sit with your back to the engine like that, let us change sides.”

He took command and drew her to her feet, and placed her gently in his vacant seat; then he sat down opposite her and looked at her with anxious eyes.

”I sit that way as a rule because of avoiding the dust, but, of course, it was that. I am not generally such a goose though--it is the nastiest feeling that I have ever known.”

”You poor dear little girl,” his deep voice said. ”You must shut your eyes and not talk now.”

She obeyed, and he watched her intently as she lay back with her eyes closed, the long lashes resting upon her pale cheeks. She looked childish and a little pathetic, and every fibre of his being quivered with desire to protect her. He had never felt so profoundly in his life--and the whole thing was so complicated. He tried to force himself to remember that he was not travelling with _his_ wife whom he could take care of and cherish because she was going to have _his_ child, but that he was travelling with John's wife whom he hardly knew and must take no more interest in than any Ardayre would in the wife of the head of the family!

He could have laughed at the extraordinary irony of the thing, if it had not been so moving.

Verisschenzko, had he been there and known the circ.u.mstances, would have taken joy in a.n.a.lysing what nature was saying to them both!

Amaryllis was only conscious that Denzil seemed the reality of her dream of John, and that she liked his nearness--and Denzil only knew that he loved her extremely and must banish emotion and remember his given word.

So he pulled himself together when she sat up presently and began talking again, and gradually the atmosphere of throbbing excitement between them calmed. They spoke of each other's tastes and likings and found many to be the same. Then they spoke of books, and each discovered that the other was sufficiently well read to be able to discuss varied favourite authors.

An understanding and sympathy had grown up between them before they reached Westbury, and yet Denzil was really trying to keep his word in the spirit as well as the letter.

Amaryllis felt no constraint--she was more friendly than she would have been with any other man she knew so slightly. Were they not cousins, and was it not perfectly natural!

They talked of Oxford and of the effect it had upon young men, and again they spoke of Stepan and of the dream he and Denzil shared.

”You will go into Parliament, I suppose, when you come back from the war?” she remarked at last. ”If you have dreams they should become realities....”

”That is what I intend to do. The war may last a long time though--but it ought to teach one something, and England will be a vastly different place after it, and perhaps the younger men who have fought may have a greater chance.”

”You have pet theories, of course.”

”I suppose so--I believe that the first great step will be to give the people better homes--the housing question is what I am going to devote my energy to. I am sure it is the root of nearly every evil. Every man and woman who works should have the right to a good home. I have two supreme interests--that is one, and the other is elimination of the wastrels and the unfit. I am quite ruthless, perhaps, you will think. But there is such a sickening lot of mawkish sentiment mixed up with nearly every scheme to benefit workers. I agree with Stepan who always preaches: Get down to the commonsense point of view about a thing. Prune the convention and religion and sentimentality first and then you can judge.”

Amaryllis thought for a moment; her eyes became wide and dreamy, and her charmingly set head was a little thrown back. Denzil took in the line of her white throat and the curve of her chin--it was not weak. Why was it that women with the possibilities of this one always seemed to be some other man's property! He had never come across such charm in girls. Or was it that marriage developed charm?

They neither of them spoke for a minute or two, each busy with speculation.