Part 5 (1/2)

They talked a little about the books Howard had been recommending, but Mrs. Graves was bent on making much of Jack.

”I don't get you here often by yourself,” she said. ”I daren't ask a modern young man to come and see two old frumps--one old frump, I mean!

But I gather that you have views of your own, Jack, and some day I shall try to get at them. I suppose that in a small place like this we all know a great deal more about each other than we suspect each other of knowing. What a comfort that we have tongues that we can hold! It wouldn't be possible to live, if we knew that all the absurdities we pride ourselves on concealing were all perfectly well known and canva.s.sed by all our friends. However, as long as we only enjoy each other's faults, and don't go in for correcting them, we can get on. I hope you don't DISAPPROVE of people, Jack! That's the hopeless att.i.tude.”

”Well, I hate some people,” said Jack, ”but I hate them so much that it is quite a pleasure to meet them and to think how infernal they are; and when it's like that, I should be sorry if they improved.”

”I won't go as far as that,” said Howard. ”The most I do is to be thankful that their lack of improvement can still entertain me. One can never be thankful enough for really grotesque people. But I confess I don't enjoy seeing people spiteful and mean and vicious. I want to obliterate all that.”

”I want it to be obliterated,” said Mrs. Graves; ”but I don't feel equal to doing it. Oh, well, we mustn't get solemn over it; that's the mischief! But I mustn't keep you gentlemen from more serious pursuits--'real things,' I believe, Jack?”

”Mr. Kennedy has been sneaking on me,” said Jack. ”I don't like to see people mean and spiteful. It gives me pain. I want all that obliterated.”

”This is what happens to my pupils,” said Howard. ”Come on, Jack, you shall not expose my methods like this.”

They went off with the old keeper, who carried a bag of writhing ferrets, and was accompanied by a boy with a spade and a line and a bag of cartridges. As they went on, Jack catechised Howard closely.

”Did my family behave themselves?” he said. ”Did you want them obliterated? I expect you had a good pull at the Governor, but don't forget he is a good chap. He is so dreadfully interested, but you come to plenty of sense last of all. I admit it is last, but it's there.

It's no joke facing him if there's a row! he doesn't say much then, and that makes it awful. He has a way of looking out of the window, if I cheek him, for about five minutes, which turns me sick. Up on the top he is a bit frothy--but there's no harm in that, and he keeps things going.”

”Yes,” said Howard, ”I felt that, and I may tell you plainly I liked him very much, and thought him a thoroughly good sort.”

”Well, what about Maud?” said Jack.

Howard felt a tremor. He did not want to talk about Maud, and he did not want Jack to talk about her. It seemed like laying hands on something sacred and secluded. So he said, ”Really, I don't know as yet--I only had one talk with her. I can't tell. I thought her delightful; like you with your impudence left out.”

”The little cat!” said Jack; ”she is as impudent as they make them.

I'll be bound she has taken the length of your foot. What did she talk about? stars and flowers? That's one of her dodges.”

”I decline to answer,” said Howard; ”and I won't have you spoiling my impressions. Just leave me alone to make up my mind, will you?”

Jack looked at him,--he had spoken sharply--nodded, and said, ”All right! I won't give her away. I see you are lost; but I'll get it all out of you some time.”

They were by this time some way up the valley. There were rabbit burrows everywhere among the thickets. The ferrets were put in. Howard and Jack were posted below, and the shooting began. The rabbits bolted well, and Howard experienced a lively satisfaction, quite out of proportion, he felt, to the circ.u.mstances, at finding that he could shoot a great deal better than his pupil. The old knack came back to him, and he toppled over his rabbits cleanly and in a masterly way.

”You are rather good at this!” said Jack. ”Won't I blazon it abroad up at Beaufort. You shall have all the credit and more. I can't see how you always manage to get them in the head.”

”It's a trick,” said Howard; ”you have got to get a particular swing, and when you have got it, it's difficult to miss--it's only practice; and I shot a good deal at one time.”

Howard was unreasonably happy that afternoon. It was a still, sunny day, and the steep down stretched away above them, an ancient English woodland, with all its thorn-thickets and elder-clumps. It had been like this, he thought, from the beginning of history, never touched by the hand of man. The expectant waiting, the quick aim, the sudden shot, took off the restlessness of his brain; and as they stood there, often waiting for a long time in silence, a peculiar quality of peace and contentment enveloped his spirit. It was all so old, so settled, so quiet, that all sense of retrospect and prospect pa.s.sed from his mind.

He was just glad to be alive and alert, glad of his friendly companion, robust and strong. A few pictures pa.s.sed before his mind, but he was glad just to let his eyes wander over the scene, the steep turf ramparts, the close-set dingles, the spring suns.h.i.+ne falling softly over all, as the sun pa.s.sed over and the shadows lengthened. At last a ferret got hung up, and had to be dug out. Howard looked at his watch, and said they must go back to tea. Jack protested in vain that there was plenty of light left. Howard said they were expected back. They left the keeper to recover the ferret, and went back quickly down the valley. Jack was in supreme delight.

”Well, that's an honest way of spending time!” he said. ”My word, how I dangle about here; it isn't good for my health. But, by George, I wish I could shoot like you, Mr. Kennedy, Sir.”

”Why this sudden obsequiousness?” said Howard.

”Oh, because I never know what to call you,” said Jack. ”I can't call you by your Christian name, and Mr. Kennedy seems absurd. What do you like?”

”Whatever comes naturally,” said Howard.

”Well, I'll call you Howard when we are together,” said Jack. ”But mind, not at Beaufort! If I call you anything, it will have to be Mr.