Part 22 (1/2)
They laughed together.
”You are younger than you were then,” he continued, in his most characteristic voice, the voice which was musical and alluring, and suggestive of his nature's pa.s.sionate depths and heights. ”You have grown into health of body and soul, and out of all the evil things that would have robbed you of natural happiness. Nothing ever made me more glad than first seeing you at the villa. I didn't know what you had become, and in looking at you I rejoiced on your account. You would gladden even miserable old age, like sunlight on a morning of spring.”
Cecily moved towards the tea-table in silence. She began to fill one of the cups, but put the teapot down again and waited for a moment. Having resumed her purpose, she looked round and saw Elgar seated sideways on a chair by the window. With the cup of tea in her hand, she approached him and offered it without speaking. He rose quickly to take it, and went to another part of the room.
”I hope Miriam will stay here the whole winter,” Cecily said, as she seated herself by the table.
”I hope so,” he a.s.sented absently, putting his tea aside. ”How long are you and Mrs. Lessingham likely to stay?”
”At least till February, I think.”
”Shall you get as far as Amalfi some day?”
”Oh yes And Miriam will come with us, I hope. And to Capri too.”
”I must see Capri. I shouldn't wonder if I go there soon; probably it would suit my purpose better than Amalfi. Yet I must be alone, if I am to work. I haven't Mallard's detachment. That seems to you a paltry confession of weakness.”
”No, indeed. I am told that Mr. Mallard is quite exceptional in his power of disregarding everything but his work.”
”Exceptional in many things, no doubt. I must seem very insignificant in comparison.”
”Why should you? Mr. Mallard is so much older; he has long been fixed in his course.”
”Older, yes,” a.s.sented Elgar, with satisfaction. ”Perhaps at his age I too may have done something worth doing.”
”Who could doubt it?”
”It does me good to hear you say that!”
He moved from his distant place, and threw himself in one of his usual careless att.i.tudes on a nearer chair. ”But Miriam has no faith in me, not a jot Does she speak harshly of me to you?”
”No.”
Cecily shook her head, and seemed unable to speak more than the monosyllable.
”But she has nothing encouraging to say? She shows that she looks upon me as one of whom no good can come? That is the impression you have received from her?”
Cecily looked at him gravely.
”She has scarcely spoken of you at all--scarcely more than the few words that were inevitable.”
”In itself a condemnation.”
Cecily was mute. Before Elgar could say anything more, the door opened.
With a sudden radiance on her features, the girl looked up to greet Mrs. Lessingham's entrance.
”How long you have been, aunt!”
”Yes; I am sorry. How do you do, Mr. Elgar? Tea, Cecily, lest I peris.h.!.+”
From the doorway her quick glance had scrutinized both the young people. Of course she betrayed no surprise; neither did she make exhibition of pleasure. Her greeting of the visitor was gracefully casual, given in pa.s.sing. She sank upon a low chair as if overcome with weariness. Mrs. Lessingham had nothing to learn in the arts wherewith social intercourse is kept smooth in spite of nature's improprieties.