Jane Oglander Part 17

"You'll have to put up with me for a bit longer, Jane. Athena has taken General Lingard to lunch at the Paches'. Of course you heard of the accident?"

"Yes," she said. "Poor Patty!" And then, with a rather quizzical expression in her kind eyes, "It's odd, isn't it, d.i.c.k, that Hew should be related to the Paches----"

With no answering smile on his face, he exclaimed, "Amazing!"

He put the key in the lock, and turning it pushed open the gla.s.s door.

Then he fell back so that she should pa.s.s in before him.

"Jane," he muttered hoa.r.s.ely, "Jane, you know what I would say to you--how truly I wish you joy----"

She looked up, and then quickly cast down her eyes. Wantele had grown very pale, across his plain face was written suffering and renunciation.

"I knew," she said in a low voice, "I knew that you would wish me joy."

Neither spoke again till they reached the Greek Room.

There Wantele left her, and then Richard Maule also said his word, his dry word, of congratulation.

"I like your soldier, Jane! You know what I had hoped would happen--but things that I hope for never do happen----"

But apart from these two interludes, the first afternoon of Jane Oglander's stay at Rede Place pa.s.sed exactly as had pa.s.sed innumerable other afternoons spent by her there in recent years. She took a walk with d.i.c.k round the walled gardens which were his special interest and pleasure; she read aloud for a while to Richard.

Nothing was changed, and yet everything was different. Last time Miss Oglander had stayed at Rede Place, she had been almost daughter to Richard Maule, almost wife to d.i.c.k Wantele. Now she was about to pa.s.s for ever out of their lives, and on all three of them the knowledge lay heavy.

At four o'clock the Paches' motor returned with a message that Mrs.

Maule and General Lingard were walking back and would not be home before five.

Miss Oglander's first meeting with her lover at Rede Place took place in the Greek Room. It was six o'clock, she had given the two men their tea, and then, voicing what they were all thinking, "They're very late," said Richard Maule, and as he uttered the words the door opened and the truants walked in.

Wantele, sitting in his favourite place, away from the fire, close under one of the high windows, noted with reluctant approval that Athena did not overdo her surprise. "Why, Jane, I didn't expect you till the six-twenty train!"--that was all she said as she came forward and warmly greeted her friend.

Wantele went on looking dispa.s.sionately at his cousin's wife. To-day Athena had chosen the plainest of out-of-door costumes. A girl of seventeen might have worn the very short skirt and simple little coat, but like everything she wore, they made her, at the moment, look her best. The long walk, and the companions.h.i.+p in which she had taken the walk, had exhilarated her--intensified her superb vitality. She looked like some wild, lovely thing out of the woods, a nymph on whom Time would never dare lay his disfiguring touch.

Lingard, hanging back behind her, showed himself no actor. He looked moody, preoccupied, almost sullen.

"Has anything happened to-day?" asked Mrs. Maule. "Apart, I mean, from the happy fact of Jane's arrival----" she smiled radiantly at the other woman.

Her husband's voice unexpectedly answered her, and as he spoke he cast on her a look of hate, and then his eyes rested with an air of rather malignant, speculative curiosity on Lingard's dark, gloomy face and restless eyes.

"Yes, something did happen during your short absence. I had a call this morning from Mr. Kaye----" In an aside he muttered for Lingard's benefit, "Mr. Kaye is our excellent clergyman," and then he went on, "I'm sorry to say he brought bad news of his son."

All the caressing glow died from Athena's face; it became suddenly watchful, wary.

Mr. Maule went on, "Bayworth Kaye, it seems, is lying very ill at Aden."

Mrs. Maule gave a slight sigh of relief. That was not what she had thought, with a sudden overwhelming fear, to hear Richard say.

"The Kayes are thinking of going out to him, and they thought that I should be able to tell them something about the place--how to get there, and so on. But I advised them to wait a day or two for further news.

"I heard about Bayworth Kaye's illness some days ago," said Wantele slowly. "But I forgot to tell you. I did, however, enquire about him yesterday. They seemed to know very little then----"

"I have been longing, longing, _longing_ to see you, Jane! Now, at last we can have a talk----"

Putting both her hands on Jane's unresisting shoulders, Mrs. Maule gently pushed her friend down into a low chair, and then knelt down by her.

They were in Jane's bedroom, and it still wanted three-quarters of an hour to dinner.

Jane's eyes filled with happy tears. She was moved to the heart. How good they all were to her!

She could still feel the clinging, the convulsive, grasp of Lingard's hand. She had not seen him alone, even for a moment, but now, at last, they were under the same roof, and each of his letters from Rede Place had been a cry of longing for her.

"We ought not to have gone to the Paches'," cried Athena remorsefully.

"But honestly it never occurred to me that you would come till the evening train, Jane."

Jane laughed through her tears. "I'm very glad you went! I enjoyed my quiet day here. And oh I am so glad to see you, Athena! I was afraid that you might be away."

"Do you really think I should leave Rede Place--now?" Athena looked searchingly into Jane's face. "I know we are none of us conventional, but still the proprieties have to be respected--sometimes!"

Jane reddened uncomfortably. She had not thought of it in that way. She and Hew had been so happy together alone in London. But no doubt Athena was right.

Athena rose slowly, gracefully, from her knees, and stood looking down at her friend with a rather inscrutable smile. Jane moved uneasily, she felt as if the other woman was gently, remorselessly stripping her soul of its wrappings....

"You look just the same," said Mrs. Maule, still smiling that probing, mysterious smile, "just as much a white and grey nun as you did before, Jane. But I think this is the first time I ever saw you blush. Go on blus.h.i.+ng, dear--it makes you look quite pretty and worldly!"

Jane flinched beneath the intent questioning gaze. She felt suddenly defenceless against a form of attack she had not expected from her friend. She could not bear the lightest touch of raillery, still less any laughing comment, on what was so deep and sacred a thing to herself as her relation to Lingard.

She got up, walked over to a window, and pulled back the curtain.

Athena moved swiftly after her, and with a gentle violence put her soft arms round Jane and pillowed the girl's head on her breast.

"Jane!" she whispered, "do forgive me--I understand, indeed I do!

But--but the sight of your happiness makes me a little bitter. Richard has been worse than ever this time. And d.i.c.k has been--well, d.i.c.k at his very worst. I can't think why he dislikes me so--but to be sure I have never liked him either!"

Jane heard her in troubled silence. Her feelings of restful happiness, of exquisite content, had gone.

"I'm sure that General Lingard must have noticed Richard's extraordinary manner to me," Athena spoke musingly. "Has he said anything about it in any of his letters to you?"

"No, never." Jane released herself from Mrs. Maule's circling arms.

"I like your man so much," went on Athena, stroking Jane's hair, "so very, very much! I think I like him more than I ever thought to like a man again. But then he's so unlike most men, Jane."

Jane did not need Athena's words to convince her that Hew Lingard was unlike other men. But still her friend's words touched and pleased her.

"He's been so awful good to me these last ten days! He's made everything easier. Fortunately Richard took a great fancy to him. And he and I--I know you won't be jealous, Jane--have become true friends. When d.i.c.k isn't looking, we call each other Hew and Athena!"