Part 8 (1/2)
CHAPTER VI
At supper, Uncle Alfred was monosyllabic, and the Canipers, realizing that he was much shyer than themselves, became hospitable. Notya made the droll remarks of which she was sometimes capable, and Miriam showed off without fear of a rebuke. It was a comely party, and Mrs. Samson breathed her heavy pleasure in it as she removed the plates. When the meal was over and Uncle Alfred was smoking placidly in the drawing-room, Helen wandered out to the garden gate. There she found John biting an empty pipe.
After their fas.h.i.+on, they kept silence for a time before Helen said, ”Would it matter if I went for a walk?”
”I was thinking of having one myself.”
”He won't miss you and me,” she said. ”May I come with you, or were you going to Brent Farm?”
”I'm not going there. Come on.”
The wind met them lightly as they headed towards the road. The night was very dark, and the ground seemed to lift itself before them and sink again at their approach.
”It's like b.u.t.ting into a wave,” John said. ”I keep shutting my eyes, ready for the shock.”
”Yes.” Helen began to talk as though she were alone. ”The moor is always like the sea, when it's green and when it's black. It moves, too, gently. And now the air feels like water, heavy and soft. And yet the wind's far more alive than water. I'd like to have a wind bath every day. Oh, I'm glad we live here.”
She stumbled, and John caught her by the elbow.
”Want a hand?”
”No, thank you. It's these slippers.”
”High heels?”
”No, a stone. I wonder if the fires are out. It's so long since last night. We'd better not go far, John.”
”We'll stop at Halkett's turning.”
They took the road, and their pace quickened to the drum beats of their feet.
”It sounds like winter,” Helen said.
”But it feels like spring.”
She thought she heard resentment for that season in his voice. ”Well, why don't you go and tell her?”
”Oh, shut up! What's the use? I've no money. A nice suitor I'd make for a woman like that!”
Helen's voice sang above their footsteps and the swis.h.i.+ng of her dress.
”Silly, old-fas.h.i.+oned ideas you've got! They're rather insulting to her, I think.”
”Perhaps, if she cares; but if she doesn't--She'd send me off like a stray dog.”
”That's pride. You shouldn't be proud in love.”
”You should be proud in everything, I believe. And what do you know about it?”
”Oh--I think. Can you hear a horse, a long way off? And of course I want to be married, too, but Miriam is sure to be, and then Notya would be left alone. Besides, I couldn't leave the moor, and there's no one but George Halkett here!”