Part 86 (1/2)
”Everyone gone but me?” questioned Scott, with a whimsical lift of the eyebrows.
The man bent his head decorously. ”I believe so, sir. There was a general feeling that it would be more fitting as the marriage was not to take place as arranged. I understand, sir, that the family will shortly migrate to town.”
”Really?” said Scott.
He bent over the fire, for the evening was chilly, and he was tired to the soul. The man coughed and withdrew. Again the silence fell.
A face he knew began to look up at Scott out of the leaping flames--a face that was laughing and provocative one moment, wistful and tear-stained the next.
He heaved a sigh as he followed the fleeting vision. ”Will she ever be happy again?” he asked himself.
The last sight he had had of her had cut him to the heart. She had conquered her tears at last, but her smile was the saddest thing he had ever seen. It was as though her vanished childhood had suddenly looked forth at him and bidden him farewell. He felt that he would never see the child Dinah again.
The return of the servant with his drink brought him back to his immediate surroundings. He sat down in an easy-chair before the fire to mix it.
The man turned to go, but he had not reached the end of the hall when the front-door bell rang again. He went soft-footed to answer it.
Scott glanced over his shoulder as the door opened, and heard his own name.
”Is Mr. Studley here?” a man's voice asked.
”Yes, sir. Just here, sir,” came the answer, and Scott rose with a weary gesture.
”Oh, here you are!” Airily Guy Bathurst advanced to meet him. ”Don't let me interrupt your drink! I only want a few words with you.”
”I'll fetch another gla.s.s, sir” murmured the discreet man-servant, and vanished.
Scott stood, stiff and uncompromising, by his chair. There was a hint of hostility in his bearing. ”What can I do for you?” he asked.
Bathurst ignored his att.i.tude with that ease of manner of which he was a past-master. ”Well I thought perhaps you could give me news of Dinah” he said. ”Billy tells me he left you with her this morning.”
”I see” said Scott. He looked at the other man with level, unblinking eyes. ”You are beginning to feel a little anxious about her?” he questioned.
”Well, I think it's about time she came home,” said Bathurst. He took out a cigarette and lighted it. ”Her mother is wondering what has become of her,” he added, between the puffs.
”I posted a letter to Mrs. Bathurst about an hour ago,” said Scott. ”She will get it in the morning.”
”Indeed!” Bathurst glanced at him. ”And is her whereabouts to remain a mystery until then?”
”That letter will rea.s.sure you as to her safety,” Scott returned quietly.
”But it will not enlighten you as to her whereabouts. She is in good hands, and it is not her intention to return home--at least for the present. Under the circ.u.mstances you could scarcely compel her to do so.”
”I never compel her to do anything,” said Bathurst comfortably. ”Her mother keeps her in order, I have nothing to do with it.”
”Evidently not.” A sudden sharp quiver of scorn ran through Scott's words. ”Her mother may make her life a positive h.e.l.l, but it's no business of yours!”
A flicker of temper shone for a second in Bathurst's eyes. The scorn had penetrated even his thick skin. ”None whatever,” he said deliberately.
”Nor of yours either, so far as I can see.”
”There you are wrong.” Hotly Scott took him up. ”It is the duty of every man to prevent cruelty. Dinah has been treated like a bond-slave all her life. What were you about to allow it?”