Part 20 (1/2)

”Yes, dear; well, if you think--” She hesitated.

”Oh, we can manage it somehow,” he said hopefully.

Constance looked at him out of the corner of her eyes.

”It will be useful for you to run over to Starden to see Helen--won't it?”

”Yes, to see Helen. She's a good sort, one of the best, dear old Helen!

Isn't it ripping to have her near us again?”

”She could always have come to Buddesby if she had wanted to.”

”Oh, there isn't much room there!”

”But always room enough for Helen, Johnny. You haven't told me what you think of Joan Meredyth.”

She watched him out of the corners of her eyes. He stared straight ahead between the ears of the old horse.

”Joan Meredyth,” he repeated, and she saw a deep flush come stealing under the tan of his cheeks. ”Oh, she's handsome, Con. She almost took my breath away. I think she is the loveliest girl I ever saw.”

”Yes, and do you--”

”And do I admire her? Yes, I do, but I could wish she was just a little less cold, a little less stately, Con.”

”Perhaps it is shyness. Remember, we are strangers to her; she was not cold and stately to me, Johnny.”

”Ah!” Johnny said, and went on staring straight ahead down the road.

”Did Helen say much to you, Con?”

”Oh, a good deal!”

”About”--Johnny hesitated--”her?”

”Yes, a little; she thinks a great deal of her. She says that at first Joan seemed to hold her at arm's length. Now they understand one another better, and she says Joan has the best heart in the world.”

”Yet she seems cold to me,” said Johnny with a sigh.

Still, in spite of Joan's coldness, he found his way over to Starden very often during the days that followed. He had picked up a small secondhand car, which he strenuously learned to drive, and thereafter the little car might have been seen plugging almost daily along the six odd miles of road that separated Buddesby from Starden.

And each time he got the car out a pair of black eyes watched him with smouldering anger and pa.s.sion and jealousy. A pair of small hands were clenched tightly, a girl's heart was aching and throbbing with love and hate and undisciplined pa.s.sions, as though it must break.

But he did not see, though Constance did, and she felt troubled and anxious. She had understood for long how it was with Ellice. She had seen the girl's eyes turned with dog-like devotion towards the man who was all unconscious of the pa.s.sion he had aroused. But she saw it all in her quiet way, and was anxious and worried, as a kindly, gentle, tender-hearted woman must be when she notices one of her own s.e.x give all the love of a pa.s.sionate heart to one who neither realises nor desires it.

So, day after day, Johnny drove over to Starden, and when he came Helen would smile quietly and take herself off about some household duty, leaving the young people together. And Joan would greet him with a smile from which all coldness now had gone, for she accepted him as a friend.

She saw his sterling worth, his honour and his honesty. He was like some great boy, so open and transparent was he. To her he had become ”Johnny,” to him she was ”Joan.”

To-day they were wandering up and down the garden paths, side by side.