the patrician-第51部分

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of　indecision；　she　began：

〃I'm　so　glad　to　see　you　again。　　I　didn't　know　you　were　still　down
here。〃

〃I　only　came　back　to　England　yesterday；　and　I'm　just　here　to　see　to
the　packing　of　my　things。〃

〃Oh！〃　murmured　Barbara。　　〃You　know　what's　happening　to　me；　I
suppose？〃

Mrs。　Noel　smiled；　looked　up；　and　said：　〃I　heard　last　night。　　All　joy
to　you！〃

A　lump　rose　in　Barbara's　throat。

〃I'm　so　glad　to　have　seen　you；〃　she　murmured　once　more；　〃I　expect　I
ought　to　be　getting　on；〃　and　with　the　word　〃　Good…bye；〃　gently
echoed；　she　rode　away。

But　her　mood　of　delight　was　gone；　even　the　horse　Hal　seemed　to　tread
unevenly；　for　all　that　he　was　going　back　to　that　stable　which　ever
appeared　to　him　desirable　ten　minutes　after　he　had　left　it。

Except　that　her　eyes　seemed　darker；　Mrs。　Noel　had　not　changed。　　If
she　had　shown　the　faintest　sign　of　self…pity；　the　girl　would　never
have　felt；　as　she　did　now；　so　sorry　and　upset。

Leaving　the　stables；　she　saw　that　the　wind　was　driving　up　a　huge；
white；　shining　cloud。　　〃Isn't　it　going　to　be　fine　after　all！〃　she
thought。

Re…entering　the　house　by　an　old　and　so…called　secret　stairway　that
led　straight　to　the　library；　she　had　to　traverse　that　great　dark
room。　　There；　buried　in　an　armchair　in　front　of　the　hearth　she　saw
Miltoun　with　a　book　on　his　knee；　not　reading；　but　looking　up　at　the
picture　of　the　old　Cardinal。　　She　hurried　on；　tiptoeing　over　the。
soft　carpet；　holding　her　breath；　fearful　of　disturbing　the　queer
interview；　feeling　guilty；　too；　of　her　new　knowledge；　which　she　did
not　mean　to　impart。　　She　had　burnt　her　fingers　once　at　the　flame
between　them；　she　would　not　do　so　a　second　time！

Through　the　window　at　the　far　end　she　saw　that　the　cloud　had　burst；
it　was　raining　furiously。　　She　regained　her　bedroom　unseen。　　In　spite
of　her　joy　out　there　on　the　moor；　this　last　adventure　of　her　girlhood
had　not　been　all　success；　she　had　again　the　old　sensations；　the　old
doubts；　the　dissatisfaction　which　she　had　thought　dead。　　Those　two！
To　shut　one's　eyes；　and　be　happywas　it　possible！　　A　great　rainbow；
the　nearest　she　had　ever　seen；　had　sprung　up　in　the　park；　and　was
come　to　earth　again　in　some　fields　close　by。　　The　sun　was　shining　out
already　through　the　wind…driven　bright　rain。　　Jewels　of　blue　had
begun　to　star　the　black　and　white　and　golden　clouds。　　A　strange　white
light…ghost　of　Spring　passing　in　this　last　violent　outburst…painted
the　leaves　of　every　tree；　and　a　hundred　savage　hues　had　come　down
like　a　motley　of　bright　birds　on　moor　and　fields。

The　moment　of　desperate　beauty　caught　Barbara　by　the　throat。　　Its
spirit　of　galloping　wildness　flew　straight　into　her　heart。　　She
clasped　her　hands　across　her　breast　to　try　and　keep　that　moment。　　Far
out；　a　cuckoo　hooted…and　the　immortal　call　passed　on　the　wind。　　In
that　call　all　the　beauty；　and　colour；　and　rapture　of　life　seemed　to
be　flying　by。　　If　she　could　only　seize　and　evermore　have　it　in　her
heart；　as　the　buttercups　out　there　imprisoned　the　sun；　or　the　fallen
raindrops　on　the　sweetbriars　round　the　windows　enclosed　all　changing
light！　　If　only　there　were　no　chains；　no　walls；　and　finality　were
dead！

Her　clock　struck　ten。　　At　this　time　to…morrow！　　Her　cheeks　turned
hot；　in　a　mirror　she　could　see　them　burning；　her　lips　scornfully
curved；　her　eyes　strange。　　Standing　there；　she　looked　long　at
herself；　till；　little　by　little；　her　face　lost　every　vestige　of　that
disturbance；　became　solid　and　resolute　again。　　She　ceased　to　have　the
galloping　wild　feeling　in　her　heart；　and　instead　felt　cold。　　Detached
from　herself　she　watched；　with　contentment；　her　own　calm　and　radiant
beauty　resume　the　armour　it　had　for　that　moment　put　off。

After　dinner　that　night；　when　the　men　left　the　dining…hall；　Miltoun
slipped　away　to　his　den。　　Of　all　those　present　in　the　little　church
he　had　seemed　most　unemotional；　and　had　been　most　moved。　　Though　it
had　been　so　quiet　and　private　a　wedding；　he　had　resented　all　cheap
festivity　accompanying　the　passing　of　his　young　sister。　　He　would
have　had　that　ceremony　in　the　little　dark　disused　chapel　at　the
Court；　those　two；　and　the　priest　alone。　　Here；　in　this　half…pagan
little　country　church　smothered　hastily　in　flowers；　with　the　raw
singing　of　the　half…pagan　choir；　and　all　the　village　curiosity　and
homage…everything　had　jarred；　and　the　stale　aftermath　sickened　him。
Changing　his　swallow…tail　to　an　old　smoking　jacket；　he　went　out　on　to
the　lawn。　　In　the　wide　darkness　he　could　rid　himself　of　his
exasperation。

Since　the　day　of　his　election　he　had　not　once　been　at　Monkland；　since
Mrs。　Noel's　flight　he　had　never　left　London。　　In　London　and　work　he
had　buried　himself；　by　London　and　work　he　had　saved　himself！　　He　had
gone　down　into　the　battle。

Dew　had　not　yet　fallen；　and　he　took　the　path　across　the　fields。
There　was　no　moon；　no　stars；　no　wind；　the　cattle　were　noiseless　under
the　trees；　there　were　no　owls　calling；　no　night…jars　churring；　the
fly…by…night　chafers　were　not　abroad。　　The　stream　alone　was　alive　in
the　quiet　darkness。　　And　as　Miltoun　followed　the　wispy　line　of　grey
path　cleaving　the　dim　glamour　of　daisies　and　buttercups；　there　came
to　him　the　feeling　that　he　was　in　the　presence；　not　of　sleep；　but　of
eternal　waiting。　　The　sound　of　his　footfalls　seemed　desecration。　　So
devotional　was　that　hush；　burning　the　spicy　incense　of　millions　of
leaves　and　blades　of　grass。

Crossing　the　last　stile　he　came　out；　close　to　her　deserted　cottage；
under　her　lime…tree；　which　on　the　night　of　Courtier's　adventure　had
hung　blue…black　round　the　moon。　　On　that　side；　only　a　rail；　and　a　few
shrubs　confined　her　garden。

The　house　was　all　dark；　but　the　many　tall　white　flowers；　like　a
bright　vapour　rising　from　earth；　clung　to　the　air　above　the　beds。
Leaning　against　the　tree　Miltoun　gave　himself　to　memory。

》From　the　silent　boughs　which　drooped　round　his　dark　figure；　a　little
sleepy　bird　uttered　a　faint　cheep；　a　hedgehog；　or　some　small　beast　of
night；　rustled　away　in　the　grass　close　by；　a　moth　flew　past；　seeking
its　candle　flame。　　And　something　in　Miltoun's　heart　took　wings　after
it；　searching　for　the　warmth　and　light　of　his　blown　candle　of　love。
Then；　in　the　hush　he　heard　a　sound　as　of　a　branch　ceaselessly　trailed
through　long　grass；　fainter　and　fainter；　more　and　more　distinct；
again　fainter；　but　nothing　could　he　see　that　should　make　that
homeless　sound。　　And　the　sense　of　some　near　but　unseen　presence　crept
on　him；　till　the　hair　moved　on　his　scalp。　　If　God　would　light　the
moon　or　stars；　and　let　him　see！　　If　God　would　end　the　expectation　of
this　night；　let　one　wan　glimmer　down　into　her　garden；　and　one　wan
glimmer　into　his　breast！　　But　it　stayed　dark；　and　the　homeless　noise
never　ceased。　　The　weird　thought　came　to　Miltoun　that　it　was　made　by
his　own　heart；　wandering　out　there；　trying　to　feel　warm　again。　　He
closed　his　eyes　and　at　once　knew　that　it　was　not　his　heart；　but
indeed　some　external　presence；　unconsoled。　　And　stretching　his　hands
out　he　moved　forward　to　arrest　that　sound。　　As　he　reached　the
railing；　it　ceased。　　And　he　saw　a　flame　leap　up；　a　pale　broad　pathway
of　light　blanching　the　grass。

And；　realizing　that　she　was　there；　within；　he　gasped。　　His　finger…
nails　bent　and　broke　against　the　iron　railing　without　his　knowing。
It　was　not　as　on　that　night　when　the　red　flowers　on　her　windowsill
had　wafted　their　scent　to　him；　it　was　no　sheer　overpowering　rush　of
passion。　　Profounder；　more　terrible；　was　this　rising　up　within　him　of
yearning　for　loveas　if；　now　defeated；　it　would　nevermore　stir；　but
lie　dead　on　that　dark　grass　beneath　those　dark　boughs。　　And　if
victoriouswhat　then？　　He　stole　back　under　the　tree。

He　could　see　little　white　moths　travelling　down　that　path　of
lamplight；　he　could　see　the　white　flowers　quite　plainly　now；　a　pale
watch　of　blossoms　guarding　the　dark　sleepy　ones；　and　he　stood；　not
reasoning；　hardly　any　longer　feeling；　stunned；　battered　by　struggle。
His　face　and　hands　were　sticky　with　the　honey…dew；　slowly；　invisibly
distilling　from　the　lime…tree。　　He　bent　down　and　felt　the　grass。　　And
suddenly　there　came　over　him　the　certainty　of　her　presence。　　Yes；　she
was　thereout　on　the　verandah！　　He　could　see　her　white　figure　from
head　to　foot；　and；　not　realizing　that　she　could　not　see　him；　he
expected　her　to　utter　some　cry。　　But　no　sound　came　from　her；　no
gesture；　she　turned　back　into　the　house。　　Miltoun　ran　forward　to　the
railing。　　But　there；　once　more；　he　stoppedunable　to　think；　unable
to　feel；　as　it　were　abandoned　by　himself。　　And　he　suddenly　found　his
hand　up　at　his　mouth；　as　though　there　were　blood　there　to　be
staunched　that　had　escaped　from　his　heart。

Still　holding　that　hand　before　his　mouth；　and　smothering　the　sound　of
his　feet　in　the　long　grass；　he　crept　away。




CHAPTER　XXX

In　the　great　glass　house　at　Ravensham；　Lady　Casterley　stood　close　to
some　Japanese　lilies；　with　a　letter　in　her　hand。　　Her　face　was　very
white；　for　it　was　the　first　day　she　had　been　allowed　down　after　an
attack　of　influenza；　nor　had　the　hand　in　which　she　held　the　letter
its　usual　steadiness。　　She　read：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃MONKLAND　COURT。

〃Just　a　line；　dear；　before　the　post　goes；　to　tell　you　that　Babs　has
gone　off　happily。　　The　child　looked　beautiful。　　She　sent　you　her
love；　and　some　absurd　messagethat　you　would　be　glad　to　hear；　she
was　perfectly　safe；　with　both　feet　firmly　on　the　ground。〃


A　grim　little　smile　played　on　Lady　Casterley's　pale　lips：…　Yes；
indeed；　and　time　too！　　The　child　had　been　very　near　the　edge　of　the
cliffs！　　Very　near　committing　a　piece　of　romantic　folly！　　That　was
well　over！　　And　raising　the　letter　again；　she　read　on：


〃We　were　all　down　for　it；　of　course；　and　come　back　tomorrow。
Geoffrey　is　quite　cut　up。　　Things　can't　be　what　they　were　without　our
Babs。　　I've　watched　Eustace　very　carefully；　and　I　really　believe　he's
safely　over　that　affair　at　last。　　He　is　doing　extraordinarily　well　in
the　House　just　now。　　Geoffrey　says　his　speech　on　the　Poor　Law　was
head　and　shoulders　the　best　made。〃


Lady　Casterley　let　fall　the　hand　which　held　the　letter。　　Safe？　　Yes；
he　was　safe！　　He　had　done　the　rightthe　natural　thing！　　And　in　time
he　would　be　happy！　　He　would　rise　now　to　that　pinnac