The Essential Elinor Glyn Collection. Glyn Elinor

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      The sun seemed to scorch her, the light hurt her eyes, every sound made her tremble and start forward, and at last she cried aloud:

      "O God, why do I feel so troubled? I who have always had peace in my heart!"

      But no bird even answered her. There was a warm stillness, and just there, under these trees, there were no rabbits which could have comforted her with their living forms scuttling to and fro.

      She tried to reason calmly. Motors were uncertain things--this one might have broken down, and that had delayed her lover. She must not stir, in case he should come and think his lateness had frightened her and that she had gone back to the house. Whatever befell, she must be brave and true.

      But at last, when the afternoon shadows were lengthening, the agony became intense. Only the baker had passed with his cart, and a farm wagon or two, during the whole day. Gradually the conviction grew that it could not only be an accident to the motor--if so, John would have procured some other vehicle, or, indeed, he could have come to her on foot by now. Something had befallen him. There must have occurred some accident to himself; and in spite of all her calm fortitude, anguish clutched her soul.

      She knew not what to do or which way to go. At last, as the sun began to sink, faint and weary, she decided the orchard house would be the best place. There, if there was any news of an accident, Sarah Porrit, the Professor's one female servant, would have heard it.

      She started straight across the park, carrying her heavy bag, and crossed the beech avenue, and so on to the trysting tree. A cold feeling like some extra disquietude seemed to overcome her as she neared the haw-haw and the copse. It was as if she feared and yet longed to get there. But she resisted the temptation, and went straight on to the little gate and so up the garden to the house.

      Mrs. Porrit received her with her usual kindly greeting. All was calm and peaceful, and while Halcyone controlled herself to talk in an ordinary voice, the postman's knock was heard. He passed the Professor's door on the road to Applewood and left the evening mail, when there chanced to be any.

      Mrs. Porrit received the letters--three of them--and then she adjusted her spectacles, but took them off again.

      "After all, since you are here, miss, perhaps as you write better than I you will be so good as to redirect them on to the master. You know his address, as usual." And she named an old-fashioned hotel in Jermyn Street.

      Halcyone took them in her cold, trembling fingers, and then nearly dropped them on the floor, for the top envelope was addressed in the handwriting of her beloved! She knew it well. Had she not, during the past years, often seen such missives, from which the Professor had read her scraps of news?

      She carried it to the light and scrutinized the postmark. It was "London," and posted that very morning early!

      For a moment all was a blank, and she found herself grasping the back of Cheiron's big chair to prevent herself from falling.

      John had been in London at the moment when she was waiting by the tree! What mystery was here?

      At first the feeling was one of passionate relief. There had been no accident, then; he had been obliged to go--there would be some explanation forthcoming. Perhaps he had even written to her, too--and she gave a bound forward, as though to run back to La Sarthe Chase. But then she recollected the evening postman did not come to the house, and they got no letters as Cheiron did, who was on the road. Hers could not be there until the morning--she must wait patiently and see.

      With consummate self-control she made her voice sound natural as she said, "Oh, I am so late, Mrs. Porrit. I must go," and, bidding the woman a gracious good evening, walked rapidly to the house. A telegram might have come for her, and she had been out all day. What if her aunts had opened it!

      This thought made her quicken her pace so that at last she arrived at the terrace breathless with running; and having deposited her bag in safety, she came out again from the secret passage and got hastily to the house.

      But there was no sign of a telegram in the hall, and she mounted to find Priscilla in her room, which she discovered to be in great disorder, her few clothes lying about on every available space.

      "Oh, my lamb, where have you been?" the elderly woman exclaimed. "At four o'clock who should come in a fly from the Applewood station but your step-father's wife! She was staying at Upminster, and says she thought she would come over and see you--and now it's settled that we go back with her to London to-morrow. Think of it, my lamb! You and me to see the world!" Then she cried in fear: "My precious, what is it?"

      For Halcyone, overwrought and overcome, had staggered to a chair and, falling into it, had buried her face in her hands.

      CHAPTER XXI

      Mrs. James Anderton was seated in the Italian parlor with the two ancient hostesses when Halcyone at last came into their midst. They had evidently exhausted all possible topics of conversation and were extremely glad of an interruption.

      Miss La Sarthe had been growing more and more annoyed at her great-niece's lengthy absence, while Miss Roberta felt so nervous she would like to have sniffed at her vinaigrette, but, alas! the stern eye of her sister was upon her and she dared not.

      Mrs. James Anderton--good, worthy woman--had not passed an agreeable afternoon either. She felt herself hopelessly out of tune with the two old ladies, whose exquisitely reserved polished manners disconcerted her.

      She had been made to feel--most delicately, it is true, but still unmistakably--that she had committed a breach of taste in thus descending upon La Sarthe Chase unannounced. And instead of the sensation of complacent importance which she usually enjoyed when among her own friends and acquaintances, she was experiencing a depressed sense of being a very small personage indeed.

      Her highly colored comely face was very hot and flushed and she rather restlessly played with her parasol handle. Miss La Sarthe's voice grew a little acid as she said:

      "This is our great-niece, Halcyone La Sarthe, Mrs. Anderton"--and then--"It is unfortunate that you should have been so long absent, child."

      "I am very sorry," Halcyone returned gently, and she shook hands. She made no excuse or explanation.

      Mrs. Anderton plunged into important matters at once.

      "Your father, Mr. Anderton"--how that word "father" jarred upon Halcyone's sensitive ears!--"wished me to come and see you, dear, and hopes you will return with me to-morrow to London, for a little visit to us, that you may make the acquaintance of your brother and sisters."

      Halcyone had already made up her mind what to do, before she had left her room. She would agree to anything they suggested in order to have no obstacles put in her way--not admitting for a moment that these people had any authority over her. Then, if in the morning she received a letter from her Beloved, she would follow its instructions implicitly. Always having at hand her certain mode of disappearance, she could slip away, and if it seemed necessary, just leave them to think what they pleased. Priscilla would be warned to allay at once the anxiety of her aunts, and for the Andertons she was far too desperate to care what they might feel.

      "Thank you; it is very good of you," she said as graciously as she could. "My old nurse has told me of your kind invitation, and is СКАЧАТЬ