Part 24 (1/2)
From a neighboring angle in the portico, to which Mr. Herriott had noiselessly ascended, his eager, hungry eyes watched her, studied her, and through a mist of unconquerable tenderness he noted the changes time had printed on the frank, fair face--so much older, so pale, so hard, so sullen rather than sorrowful. The light of youthful hope in her lovely eyes had been driven away by some ugly fact always confronting her, and the sensitive lips were set tight, stern, pitiless. Who or what was the Gorgon that had frozen the exquisite face he loved so pa.s.sionately? More than grief was written there, and he who had so long interpreted its phases read the dominant emotion, indignant protest against some wrong.
Over the crest of aetna the sinking sun hovered, and in the wonderful radiance, that seemed woven of vast rainbows into some celestial garment for sea and land, Mr. Herriott came out of his niche and stood before her.
”I am very glad to see you here, Eglah. It seems so long since we parted at Greyledge.”
He held out both hands, and, without rising, she put up one of hers, but he saw the swift frown, the undisguised annoyance his presence caused.
There had been no opportunity for fastening a mask, or forcing perfunctory smiles, and upon her frank truthfulness and scorn of dissimulation he relied implicitly. Very tenderly he covered her cold fingers with his warm palms, and, as she withdrew them, he seated himself on a stone at her side.
”Who has put me in your black books? Not a word of welcome for a travel-weary vagrant starving for friendly recognition?”
She looked coldly at him, but something in his fine, magnetic eyes, his caressing tone, touched her into self-reproach.
”If ever you should get into my black book, you will have put yourself there. Mr. Herriott, I am very glad to see you looking so remarkably well.”
”Have I so many grey locks, to warrant my promotion to Mr. Herriott?”
She glanced at the silky black head bent toward her.
”Not a white hair visible. Your promotion comes by brevet, in honor of perfect behavior as well as additional years. Of course you have seen father?”
”No, I met only Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l, who told me you had gone to watch the sunset, and I knew this must be your coign of vantage.”
”This is not your first visit?”
”No. The island attracts me more than any other part of Italy, and justifies what has been said: 'Sicily is the smile of G.o.d.'”
”Then surely His frown must be aetna--'the pillar of heaven, the nurse of sharp, eternal snows.' A few moments ago it was dazzling, now how grim and sombre it looms, and that wavering jet of smoke crawls against the purple sky as a dying candle flame flickers over the head of a corpse. I sometimes wonder if G.o.d----”
She had lifted the acanthus spray and touched it with her cheek, and her eyes followed the ascending smoke which suddenly glowed from crater lights beneath as sunset splendors faded; but the sentence was not finished, and her lips paled. Turning toward her companion, she smiled.
”You have been feeling the old earth's pulse while she was in an ague?”
”Yes. On the surface our ancient mother appears so absolutely in repose, and yet, when we get down nearer her mighty heart, we find the earth is never still; it trembles and thrills ceaselessly. This was my first view of the seismic pendulum records, in a subterranean vault that suggested the workshop of Hephaestus.”
”I should think you would tire of wandering about, and prefer to go home.”
”If I had one, doubtless I should; but roof, walls, and fields and gardens do not exactly const.i.tute the home that would content me.”
”Mr. Noel, you are wedded to science, and nothing else will ever satisfy you.”
”Yes, I am very faithful to my vast spouse, and I find her loyal. She never flirts, never is inconsistent or petulant; when I work hard she smiles divinely, and, like that other sorceress of the Nile, 'age cannot wither her nor custom stale her infinite variety.' Domesticity is not one of her charms, hence hand in hand we roam the world, making a perpetual bridal tour. No connubial quarrels disturb our sweet repose, even when I write to you, her only rival; but if I grow indolent, or over wise or conceited, she simply lays her great finger on her lips of stone and turns her huge planetary back upon me. Now, Eglah, you are due in the confessional. Why did you fail to answer my letter from Fort Churchill, Hudson Bay?”
”Because it contained no address, and to reach you seemed as uncertain as mailing a letter to that wild new comet pious people are praying will not make a carrom with earth and moon and sundry stars. Have you heard that Beatrix and Mr. Stapleton were married in November?”
”Yes, I received a long wail from Aunt Trina, in which she came as near boxing my ears as intervening distance permitted. Dana and Trix will be as happy as a pair of Java finches in a gilt cage.”
”I imagined that Miss Manning's objection arose solely from the fact that the cage was not gilded.”
”Wall Street is a wonderful matchmaker, and smiled on the lovers.
Sometimes Hymen corners stocks, and Dana's kite was lucky.”