The Tidal Wave and Other Stories Part 33

All these details Durant took in with keen interest. Nothing could have exceeded the simplicity of this dwelling by the sea. There had obviously been no attempt at artistic arrangement. Cleanliness and a neatness almost severe were its only characteristics.

"I hope you like toasted scones, sir," said Molly's voice in the doorway.

He looked round to see her come forward with the tea-tray.

"Nothing better," he said lightly, "particularly if you have made them yourself."

She set down her tray and smiled at him. Her short, curling hair gave her an almost elfish look.

"I've been so busy getting ready," she said childishly. "I've never had a gentleman to tea before."

"That is a very great honour for me," said Durant.

Molly looked delighted.

"I think the honour is mine," she said in her shy voice. "I am just going to fetch the wooden chair out of the kitchen."

She departed hastily as if embarra.s.sed, and Durant smiled to himself. It was wonderful how the oppression had been lifted from his spirit since his meeting with this lonely dweller on the sh.o.r.e.

When Molly reappeared, he saw that she had a.s.sumed a dignity worthy of the occasion. She sat down behind the brown teapot with a serious face.

He waited for her to lead the conversation, and the result was complete silence for some seconds.

Then she said suddenly:

"Have you been sitting in the summer-house again?"

"No," said Durant.

"I am glad of that," said Molly.

"Why?" he asked.

She hesitated.

"Isn't it rather a lonely place?" she said.

He smiled faintly.

"You know I came here to be lonely, Molly," he said.

"Yes; you told me," said Molly, and he fancied that he heard her sigh.

"Are you never lonely?" he asked in a kindly tone.

"Often," she said. "Often."

She was pouring the tea as she spoke. Her head was slightly bent.

"And so you took pity on me?" said Durant.

She shook her head suddenly and vigorously.

"It wasn't that, sir," she said in a very low voice. "I--I wanted--someone--to speak to."

"I see," said Durant gently. He added after a moment: "Do you know, I am glad I chanced to be that someone."

She smiled at him over the teapot.

"You weren't pleased--at first," she said. "You were angry. I heard you saying--"

"What?" said Durant.

He looked across at her and laughed naturally, spontaneously, for the first time.

Molly had forgotten to be either embarra.s.sed or dignified.

"I don't know what it was," she said; "I only know what it sounded like."

"And that made you want to speak to me?" said Durant.

The brown face opposite to him looked impish. Yet it seemed to him that there was sadness in her eyes.

"It didn't frighten me away," she said.

"It would need to be a very timid person to be frightened at me now,"

said Hugh Durant quietly.

She opened her eyes wide, and looked as if she were about to protest.

Then, changing her mind, she remained silent.

"Yes," he said. "Please say it!"

She shook her head without speaking.

But he persisted. Something in her silence aroused his curiosity.

"Am I really formidable, Molly?" he asked.

She rose to take his empty cup, and paused for a moment at his side, looking down at him.

"I don't think you realise how strong you are," she said enigmatically.

He laughed rather drearily.

"I am gauging my weakness just at present," he said.

And then, glancing up, he saw quick pain in her eyes, and abruptly turned the conversation.