The Essential Writings of Marie Belloc Lowndes. Marie Belloc Lowndes

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СКАЧАТЬ glad or sorry Laura was coming to-night. And sitting there, waiting for her guests, she anxiously debated within herself whether Oliver would have preferred to see Laura for the first time alone. Of course he could have offered to go and fetch her; but he had not availed himself of that excuse, and his mother knew that she would be present at their meeting.

      The door opened, quietly, and as had been the case a year ago, Mrs. Tropenell saw her beautiful visitor before Laura knew that there was any one in the darkened room.

      Once more Mrs. Tropenell had a curious feeling as if time had slipped back, and that everything was happening over again. The only difference was that Laura to-night was all in black, with no admixture of white. Still, by an odd coincidence the gown she was wearing was made exactly as had been that other gown last year, and through the thin black folds of chiffon her lovely white arms shone palely, revealingly....

      And then, as her guest came into the circle of light, Mrs. Tropenell realised with a feeling almost of shock that Laura was very much changed. She no longer had the sad, strained, rather severe look on her face which had been there last year. She looked younger, instead of older, and there was an expression of half-eager, half-shrinking expectation on her face—to-night.

      "Aunt Letty? How good of you to ask me——" But her voice sank away into silence as the sound of quick footsteps were heard hastening across the hall.

      The door opened, and Oliver Tropenell came in.

      He walked straight to Laura, and took both her hands in his. "You got my cable?" he asked.

      And then Laura blushed, overwhelmingly. She had had said nothing of that cable to Mrs. Tropenell.

      And as they stood there—Oliver still grasping Laura's hands in his—the mother, looking on, saw with a mixture of joy and of jealous pain that Laura stood before him as if hypnotised, her heavy-lidded blue eyes fixed upwards on his dark, glowing face.

      Suddenly they all three heard the at once plaintive and absurd hoot of Lord St. Amant's motor—and it was as if a deep spell had suddenly been broken. Slowly, reluctantly, Oliver released Laura's hands, and Mrs. Tropenell exclaimed in a voice which had a tremor in it: "It's Lord St. Amant, Oliver. I forgot that he had asked himself to dinner to-night. He said he could not come till half-past eight, but I suppose he got away earlier than he expected to do."

      And then with the coming into the room of her old friend, life seemed suddenly to become again normal, and though by no means passionless, yet lacking that curious atmosphere of violent, speechless emotion that had been there a moment or two ago. Of the four it was Laura who seemed the most moved. She came up and slipped her hand into Mrs. Tropenell's, holding it tightly, probably unaware that she was doing so.

      After the first few words of welcome to Oliver, Lord St. Amant plunged into local talk with Mrs. Tropenell, and as he did so, he looked a little wryly at Laura. Why didn't she move away and talk to Oliver? Why did she stick close like that to Letty—to Letty, with whom he had hoped to spend a quiet, cosy, cheerful evening?

      But Laura, for the first time in her life, felt as if she were no longer in full possession of herself. It was as if she had passed into the secret keeping of another human being; she had the sensation that her mind was now in fee to another human mind, her will overawed by another human will. And there was a side to her nature which rebelled against this sudden, quick transference of herself.

      With what she now half-realised to have been a kind of self-imposed hypocrisy, she had told herself often, during the last few months, that Oliver and she when they again met would become dear, dear friends. He would be the adorer, she the happy, calm, adored. And that then, after a long probation, perhaps of years, in any case not for a long, long time, she might bring herself half reluctantly, and entirely for his sake, to consider the question of—re-marriage.

      But now? Since Oliver had taken her hands in his, and gazed down speechlessly into her eyes, she had known that it was he, not she, would set the pace in their new relationship, and that however sincere his self-imposed restraint and humility. So it was that Laura instinctively clung to Mrs. Tropenell's hand.

      The passion of love, which so often makes even quite a young man feel older, steadier, more responsible, has quite the opposite effect on a woman. To every woman love brings back youth, and the deeper, the more instinctive the love, the greater the tremors and the uncertainties which, according to a hypocritical convention, belong only to youth.

      The years which Laura had spent with Godfrey Pavely seemed obliterated. Memories of her married life which had been very poignantly present in the early days of her widowhood, filling her with mingled repugnance, pain, and yes, remorse, were now erased from the tablets of her mind. She felt as if it was the young, ignorant Laura—that Laura who had been so full of high, almost defiant ideals—who was now standing, so full of confused longing and hope, if yet also a little fearful, on the threshold of a new, wonderful life....

      Good-breeding and the observance of certain long-established, social usages have an inestimable value in all the great crises of human existence. To-night each of the other three felt the comfort of Lord St. Amant's presence among them. His agreeable ease of manner, his pleasant, kindly deference to the older and the younger lady, all helped to lessen the tension, and make what each of his companions felt to be a breathless time of waiting, easier to live through.

      He himself was surprised and shocked by the change he saw in Oliver Tropenell's face. Oliver looked worn, haggard, yet filled with a kind of fierce gladness. He appeared to-night not so much the happy, as the exultant, conqueror of fate. He talked, and talked well, of the political situation in Mexico, of certain happenings which had taken place in England during his absence, and though now and again Mrs. Tropenell joined in the talk, on the whole she, like Laura, was content to listen to the two men.

      After dinner, while they were still alone in the drawing-room, Laura began to talk, rather eagerly, of her little Alice. She had begun to wonder whether it would not be well for the child to go to school as a weekly boarder. There was such a school within reasonable motoring distance. Alice was becoming rather too grown-up, and unchildlike. She had certain little friends in the town of Pewsbury, but they did not really touch her life.

      But even as Mrs. Tropenell and Laura talked the matter over, they both felt their talk to be unreal. Each of them knew that Laura's second marriage, if ever marry she did, would completely alter the whole situation with regard to Alice. Oliver was not the man to hang up his hat in another man's house—besides, why should he do so? The Chase belonged to Alice, even now.

      And then rather suddenly, Laura asked a question: "How long is Oliver going to stay in England, Aunt Letty?"

      And Mrs. Tropenell quietly answered, "I should think he would stay till after Christmas. I gather everything is going on quite well out there, thanks to Gillie." She waited a moment, and then repeated, thoughtfully: "Yes—I feel sure Oliver means to stay till after the New Year——"

      And then she stopped suddenly. There had come a change over Laura's face. Laura had remembered what Mrs. Tropenell for the moment had not done—that early in January Godfrey Pavely would have been dead exactly a year.

      As ten o'clock struck, the other two came in, still talking eagerly to one another.

      Lord St. Amant sat down by Laura.

      "I'm going to have a little shooting party later on—not now, but early in December," he said. "Mrs. Tropenell is coming, and I hope Oliver too. I wonder if you would do me the great pleasure of being there, Laura? It's a long, long time since you honoured the Abbey with your company——"

      He was СКАЧАТЬ