Part 34 (1/2)
Mrs. Mitch.e.l.l kissed her companion's cheek and hurried to the car platform, where she paused a moment, looking back at the girl seated in her trap, balancing her lace parasol.
”Are you going directly home?”
”No. I shall call to inquire how Mrs. Whitfield is to-day, and as the bishop has come home from Florida I must congratulate him on his restoration to health. Bring me some t.i.ti blossoms.”
The bell clanged, the engine puffed, and the train disappeared around a curve. An hour afterward, in front of the post-office, the mail for Nutwood was brought to the trap. Eglah took two letters addressed to herself, and placed the remainder with papers under the cus.h.i.+on of the trap seat.
”Oliver, stop at Holmein's garden. Then go on home and give the mail to father. If he has not returned from fis.h.i.+ng, be careful to lay letters and papers on the library table in front of his chair. I shall walk from Holmein's.”
The grounds of the florist were nearly a mile from the gates of Nutwood, and on a new street-car line extending to a park that overlooked the river. From Holmein's the broad, sandy road ran straight through thick woods to the avenue of the old house on the hill. Having secured a bunch of double white violets, Judge Kent's favorite flower, his daughter walked homeward. Ivory thuribles of magnolia and bay swung their fragrance up and down the nave of ancient pines, and the profound repose, the silence as of primeval wilds was broken only now and then by the antiphonal plaints of doves lamenting on the lofty green pine cornices, or a low preluding chord, as fingers of the wind touched the leafy pipes of the forest organ.
Many months had pa.s.sed, and the procession of the seasons brought no comforting element to brighten the monotonous life that so severely taxed Eglah's patience. A card and dinner party on Judge Kent's birthday had pleased him for the moment, but while he praised the menu and decorations, no relaxation of chill politeness rewarded her. Only one _al fresco_ festival was held. When nuts were ripe in autumn the young mistress had invited the children belonging to Sunday-schools and the orphan asylum in Y---- to come one afternoon to Nutwood and gather chestnuts and walnuts. In the grove long tables held refreshments, that were served by Eglah and Eliza to the hungry throng, and for the first time since the war hundreds of happy little ones raced and shouted under the ancestral trees. Several plank seats remained as souvenirs of the occasion, and to-day Eglah turned away from the avenue, and sat down between two young chestnuts. At her feet was a miniature doll house of walnut sh.e.l.ls built to amuse a flaxen-haired tot who shrank tearfully from the sharp p.r.i.c.ks of chestnut burrs, and begged for a ”truly fairy tale.”
Now Eglah was reminded of the wide, curious eyes raised to hers when she had repeated:
”I fancy the fairies make merry, With thorns for their knives and forks; They have currants for bottles of sherry, And the little brown heads are the corks.
A leaf makes the tent they sit under, Their ballroom's a white lily-cup; Shall I know all about them, I wonder, For certain, when I am grown up?”
Laying her flowers beside her, she broke the seal of a letter from Mrs.
St. Clair, postmarked New York, and after a moment the sheet fell into her lap. Raising it, she read a second time:
”We are so shocked and grieved to find that Mr. Herriott is actually going on that North Pole expedition we thought he had abandoned. He has been much feted since his return last year, and all of our set are heartily sorry to give him up. Some of us believe you could put a stop to this nonsense, if you would only come to your senses, and use your influence. The idea of such a man going into the grewsome business of eating blubber and seal, and possibly Eskimo dog steak! Hunting a graveyard among hummocks! I suggested to him that a better plan would be to go down into a cold-storage vault, throw away the key and slam the spring-lock door. Then we should be allowed the consolation of covering him with flowers.”
She replaced the letter in the envelope, and fell into a profound revery. If Mr. Herriott sailed away and never returned, her father could no longer cling to his sole condition of reconciliation. Years ago her own responsibility had ended, and even had she desired to reconsider the proposal of marriage, no opportunity to do so had been given her. She had not seen Mr. Herriott since that afternoon in the old Greco-Roman theatre. Two kind, brief, merely friendly letters had reached her, followed by a box containing for herself some fine Oriental embroideries, and an exquisitely carved ivory triptych; for Mrs.
Mitch.e.l.l a copy of a quaint circular picture in the old Byzantine style, representing a group of young lambs asleep around the standing figure of the child Jesus, whose body rayed light, as in the ”_Notte_,” one little hand extended over them, while he looked up to an angelic guard only dimly outlined by the gleaming tips of hovering pinions.
If Mr. Herriott never returned? Her eyes filled with unshed tears. For so many years he had been her devoted and loyal friend, and she honored and trusted him supremely. Never to see him again would grieve her deeply, but she felt a.s.sured he no longer loved her as formerly--that sincere friends.h.i.+p was the only sentiment he now entertained. Were his heart still hers, could he have maintained the total repression that marked recent years? He had given his word not to refer to a matter that distressed her, but when men really loved, such compacts were forgotten, and it must have been easy for Mr. Herriott to keep his promise of absolute silence.
Gathering up her flowers, letters and parasol, she walked slowly across the lawn and reached the house by a side door, without meeting any of the servants.
On the library table lay Judge Kent's unopened mail; hence she knew he had not yet returned from the fis.h.i.+ng trip on which he started at daylight. Over the door opening into his adjoining bedroom a heavy portiere of crimson plush usually hung, but a few days previous winter draperies had been replaced by Madras curtains that resembled stained gla.s.s. Lifting this summer portiere, Eglah went into the bedroom, filled a vase with water and arranged the drooping violets on her father's bureau. Only during his absence did she ever come into this apartment, so long her grandmother's reliquary, where the girl seemed always to see old Hector crouching against his dead mistress, and that white face, whose fixed blue eyes pierced beyond the orange dawn and fronted G.o.d.
The memory of her childish terror on the night of Mrs. Maurice's death haunted the room, despite her effort to dispel it, yet to-day she sat down on a lounge and re-read Mrs. St. Clair's letter. If her father knew of the contemplated Arctic journey, he had given no hint. Perhaps the vessel had already sailed. Then at last she could find peace and reconciliation. Possibly Mr. Herriott might change his plans. If ever he renewed his offer would she--could she yield to her father's wishes? She set her teeth.
”Sell myself--even for father's love? Never!”
It seemed cruel that some misfortune to her best and dearest friend should offer her sole channel of escape, and after a while she made deliberate choice.
”Come what may, I pray no harm will overtake Mr. Noel. I would rather continue to fight and suffer than know he was lost; and surely G.o.d will watch over him.”
Some moments pa.s.sed while, forgetting to remove her hat, she sat tapping her knee with the letter. Then heavy footsteps rang on the bare, ”dry-rubbed” floor, and Judge Kent's voice sounded through the library.
”Take that arm chair, Herriott. Eglah is in town, but she will be at home soon.”
”I am glad to have an opportunity to talk to you in her absence. I have not come here voluntarily; necessity drove me. My mission now is so distressingly painful that could it have been avoided I should certainly not be here. To s.h.i.+eld Eglah from annoyance I would undertake anything but neglect of duty. Of course you know the deplorable matter to which I allude?”
Every word came distinctly through the lace-hung doorway, and Eglah rose, reluctant to overhear that which it was evident the speaker wished withheld from her; but an overmastering desire to understand once for all conditions that had so long perplexed her, coerced her to remain.
There was grave trouble, and she must suffer later--why not now? A full comprehension was the first step toward defence.