diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/60331-0.txt | 7017 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/60331-0.zip | bin | 136426 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/60331-h.zip | bin | 233825 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/60331-h/60331-h.htm | 9733 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/60331-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 53089 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/60331-h/images/title.jpg | bin | 34422 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 16750 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2d5aaa3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60331 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60331) diff --git a/old/60331-0.txt b/old/60331-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index eba86c4..0000000 --- a/old/60331-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7017 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Man on the Other Side, by Ada Barnett - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: The Man on the Other Side - - -Author: Ada Barnett - - - -Release Date: September 19, 2019 [eBook #60331] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE*** - - -E-text prepared by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading -Team (http://www.pgdp.net)from page images generously made available by -the Google Books Library Project (https://books.google.com) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - the Google Books Library Project. See - https://books.google.com/books?id=R7QhAAAAMAAJ&hl=en - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE - -by - -ADA BARNETT - - -[Illustration] - - - - - - -New York -Dodd, Mead and Company -1922 - -Copyright, 1922 -by Dodd, Mead and Company. Inc. - -Printed in U. S. A. - - - - - DEDICATED - TO HIM - - - - - “_Oh, I would siege the golden coasts - Of space, and climb high Heaven’s dome, - So I might see those million ghosts - Come home._” - _Stella Benson_ - - - - - CONTENTS - - CHAPTER I - CHAPTER II - CHAPTER III - CHAPTER IV - CHAPTER V - CHAPTER VI - CHAPTER VII - CHAPTER VIII - CHAPTER IX - CHAPTER X - CHAPTER XI - CHAPTER XII - - - - - The Man on the Other Side - - - - - CHAPTER I - - -Ruth Courthope Seer stood on her own doorstep and was content. She -looked across the garden and the four-acre field with the white may -hedge boundary. It was all hers. Her eyes slowly followed the way of the -sun. Another field, lush and green, sloped to a stream, where, if the -agents had spoken truth, dwelt trout in dim pools beneath the willows. -Field and stream, they too were hers. Good fields they were, clover -thick, worthy fields for feed for those five Shorthorns, bought -yesterday at Uckfield market. - -The love of the land, the joy of possession, the magic of the spring, -they swept through her being like great clean winds. She was over forty; -she had worked hard all her life. Fate had denied her almost -everything—father or mother, brother or sister, husband or children. She -had never had a home of her own. And now fate had given her enough money -to buy Thorpe Farm. The gift was immense, still almost unbelievable. - -“You perfectly exquisite, delicious, duck of a place,” she said, and -kissed her hand to it. - -The house stood high, and she could see on the one hand the dust-white -road winding for the whole mile to Mentmore station; on the other, green -fields and good brown earth, woodland, valley, and hill, stretching to -the wide spaces of the downs, beyond which lay the sea. In 1919, the -year of the Great Peace, spring had come late, but in added and -surpassing beauty. The great yearly miracle of creation was at its -height, and behold, it was very good. - -In front of her sat Sarah and Selina. The day’s work was over. They had -watched seeds planted and seeds watered. They had assisted at the -staking of sweet-peas and the two-hourly feeding of small chicken. Now -they demanded, as their habit was, in short sharp barks of a distinctly -irritating nature, that they should be taken for a walk. - -Sarah and Selina were the sole extravagance of Ruth’s forty years of -life. They had been unwanted in a hard world. Aberdeens were out of -fashion, and their sex, like Ruth’s own in the struggle for existence, -had been against them. So bare pennies which Ruth could ill afford had -gone to the keep of Sarah and Selina, and in return they loved her as -only a dog can love. - -Sarah was a rather large lady, usually of admirable manners and -behaviour. Only once had she seriously fallen from grace, and, to Ruth’s -horror, had presented her with five black and white puppies of a -description unknown before in heaven or earth. Moreover, she was quite -absurdly pleased with herself, and Selina was, equally absurdly, quite -unbearably jealous. - -Selina had never been a lady, either in manners or behaviour. She was -younger and smaller than Sarah, and of infinite wickedness both in -design and execution. - -Ruth looked at them as they sat side by side before her. - -“To the stile and back,” she said, “and you may have ten minutes’ hunt -in the wood.” - -The pathway to the stile led through a field of buttercups, the stile -into the station road. That field puzzled Ruth. It was radiantly -beautiful, but it was bad farming. Also it was the only bit of bad -farming on the whole place. Every other inch of ground was utilized to -the best advantage, cultivated up to the hilt, well-fed, infinitely -cared for. - -Ruth was not curious, and had asked no questions concerning the late -owner of Thorpe, nor was any one of this time left on the farm. The war -had swept them away. But after two months’ possession of the place, she -had begun to realize the extraordinary amount of love and care that had -been bestowed on it by some one. In a subtle way the late owner had -materialized for her. She had begun to wonder why he had done this or -that. Once or twice she had caught herself wishing she could ask his -advice over some possible improvement. - -So she looked at the buttercups and wondered, and by the stile she -noticed a hole in the hedge on the left-hand side, and wondered again. -It was the only hole she had found in those well-kept hedges. - -She sat on the stile and sniffed the spring scents luxuriously, while -Sarah and Selina had their hunt. The may, and the wild geranium, and the -clover. Heavens, how good it all was! The white road wandered down the -hill, but no one came. She had the whole beautiful world to herself. And -then a small streak came moving slowly along the centre of the road. -Presently it resolved itself into a dog. Tired, sore-footed, by the way -it ran, covered with dust, but running steadily. A dog with a purpose. -Sarah and Selina, scenting another of their kind, emerged hot foot and -giving tongue from the centre of the wood. The dog—Ruth could see now it -was a Gordon Setter in haste about his business—slipped through the hole -in the hedge, and went, trotting wearily but without pause, across the -buttercup field towards the house. To Ruth’s amazement, Sarah and Selina -made no attempt to follow. Instead they sat down side by side in front -of her and proceeded to explain. - -Ruth looked at the hole, wondering. “He must have belonged here once, of -course,” she said, “I wonder how far he has come, the poor dear.” She -hurried up the slope, and reached the house in time to hear Miss McCox’s -piercing wail rend the air from the kitchen. - -“And into every room has he been like greased lightning before I could -hinder, and covered with dust and dirt, and me that have enough to do to -keep things clean as it is, with those two dirty beasts that Mistress -Seer sets such store by. But it’s encouraging such things she is, caring -for the brutes that perish more than for Christian men and women with -mortal souls——” - -Red of face, shrewish of tongue, but most excellent as a cook, Miss -McCox paused for breath. - -“She do be wonderful set on animals,” said the slow Sussex voice of the -cowman. He settled his folded arms on the kitchen window-sill. A chat -about the new mistress of Thorpe never failed in interest. “But ’tis all -right so long as we understand one another.” - -Ruth passed his broad back, politely blind to Miss McCox’s facial -efforts to inform him of her appearance in the background. - -The dog was now coming up the garden path between apple-trees still -thickest with blossom. A drooping dejected dog, a dog sick at heart with -disappointment, a dog who could not understand. A dusty forlorn thing -wholly out of keeping with the jubilant spring world. - -Ruth called to him, and he came, politely and patiently. - -“Oh, my dear,” she said. “You have come to look for some one and he is -not here, and I cannot help you.” - -She did what she could. Fetched some water, which he drank eagerly, and -food, which he would not look at. She bathed his sore feet and brushed -the dust from his silky black and tan coat, until he stood revealed as a -singularly beautiful dog. So beautiful that even Miss McCox expressed -unwilling admiration. - -Sarah and Selina behaved with the utmost decorum. This was unusual when -a stranger entered their domain. Ruth wondered while she brushed. It -seemed they acknowledged some greater right. Perhaps he had belonged to -the man who had so loved and cared for Thorpe before she came. And he -had left all—and the dog. - -Presently the dog lay down in a chosen place from which he could command -a view of both the front drive and the road from the station. He lay -with his nose between his paws and watched. - -After supper Ruth Seer went and sat with him. The stars looked down with -clear bright eyes. The night wind brought the scent of a thousand -flowers. An immense peace and beauty filled the heavens. Yet, as she -sat, she fancied she heard again the low monotonous boom from the -Channel to which people had grown so accustomed through the long war -years. She knew it could not really be; it was just fancy. But suddenly -her eyes were full of tears. She had lost no one out there—she had no -one to lose. But she was an English woman. They were all her men. And -there were so many white roads, from as many stations. - -The next morning the stranger dog had vanished, after, so Miss McCox -reported bitterly at 6 A. M., a night spent on the spare-room bed. It -was a perfect wonder of a morning. Even on that first morning when the -stars sang together it could not have been more wonderful, thought Ruth -Seer, looking, as she never tired of looking, at the farm that was hers. -The five Shorthorns chewed the cud in the four-acre field. The verdict -of Miss McCox, the cowman and the boy, upon them was favourable. -To-morrow morning Ruth would have her first lesson in milking. The -Berkshire sow, bought also at Uckfield market, had produced during the -night, somewhat unexpectedly, but very successfully, thirteen small -black pigs, shining like satin and wholly delectable. - -The only blot on the perfection of the day was the behaviour of Selina. -At 11 A. M. she was detected by Miss McCox, in full pursuit of the last -hatched brood of chicken. Caught, or to be fair to Selina, cornered, by -the entire staff, at 11.30, she was well and handsomely whipped, and -crept, an apparently chastened dog, into the shelter of the house. -There, however, so soon as the clang of the big bell proclaimed the busy -dinner hour, she had proceeded to the room sacred to the slumbers of -Miss McCox and, undisturbed, had diligently made a hole in the pillow on -which Miss McCox’s head nightly reposed, extracting therefrom the -feathers of many chickens. These she spread lavishly, and without -favouritism, over the surface of the entire carpet, and, well content, -withdrew silently and discreetly from the precincts of Thorpe Farm. - -At tea time she was still missing, and Sarah alone, stiff with conscious -rectitude, sat in front of Ruth and ate a double portion of cake and -bread-and-butter. Visions of rabbit holes, steel traps, of angry -gamekeepers with guns, had begun to form in Ruth’s mind. Her well-earned -appetite for tea vanished. Full forgiveness and an undeservedly warm -welcome awaited Selina whenever she might choose to put in an -appearance. - -Even Miss McCox, when she cleared away the tea, withdrew the notice -given in the heat of discovery, and suggested that Selina might be -hunting along the stream. She had seen the strange dog down there no -longer than an hour ago. - -It seemed to Ruth a hopeful suggestion. Also she loved to wander by the -stream. In all her dreams of a domain of her own always there had been -running water. And now that too was hers. One of the slow Sussex streams -moving steadily and very quietly between flowered banks, under -overhanging branches. So quietly that you did not at first realize its -strength. So quietly that you did not at first hear its song. - -It was that strange and wonderful hour which comes before sunset after a -cloudless day of May sunshine, when it is as if the world had laughed, -rejoiced, and sung itself to rest in the everlasting arms. There is a -sudden hush, a peace falls, a strange silence—if you listen. - -Ruth ceased to worry about Selina. She drifted along the path down the -stream, and love of the whole world folded her in a great content. A -sense of oneness with all that moved and breathed, with the little -brethren in hole and hedge, with the flowers’ lavish gift of scent and -colour, with the warmth of the sun, a oneness that fused her being with -theirs as into one perfect flame. Dear God, how good it all was, how -wonderful! The marshy ground where the kingcups and the lady smocks were -just now in all their gold and silver glory, the wild cherry, lover of -water, still in this late season blossoming among its leaves, the pool -where the kingfishers lived among the willows and river palms. - -And, dreaming, she came to a greensward place where lay the stranger -dog. A dog well content, who waved a lazy tail as she came. His nose -between his paws, he watched no longer a lonely road. He watched a man. -A man in a brown suit who lay full length on the grass. Ruth could not -see his face, only the back of a curly head propped by a lean brown -hand; and he too was watching something. His absolute stillness made -Ruth draw her breath and remain motionless where she stood. No -proprietor’s fury against trespassers touched her. Perhaps because she -had walked so long on the highway, looking over walls and barred -gateways at other people’s preserves. She crept very softly forward so -that she too could see what so engrossed him. A pair of kingfishers -teaching their brood to fly. - -Two had already made the great adventure and sat side by side on a -branch stretching across the pool. Even as Ruth looked, surrounded by a -flashing escort, the third joined them, and there sat all three, very -close together for courage, and distinctly puffed with pride. - -The parent birds with even greater pride skimmed the surface of the -stream, wheeled and came back, like radiant jewels in the sunlight. Ruth -watched entranced. Hardly she dared to breathe. All was very still. - -And then suddenly the scream of a motor siren cleft the silence like a -sword. Ruth started and turned round. When she looked again all were -gone. Man, dog and birds. Wiped out as it were in a moment. The birds’ -swift flight, even the dog’s, was natural enough, but how had the -slower-moving human being so swiftly vanished? Ruth looked and, puzzled, -looked again, but the man had disappeared as completely as the -kingfishers. Then she caught sight of the dog. Saw him run across the -only visible corner of the lower field, and disappear in the direction -of the front gate. Towards the front gate also sped a small two-seated -car, down the long hill from the main road which led to the pleasant -town of Fairbridge. - -Ruth felt suddenly caught up in some sequence of events outside her -consciousness. Something, she knew not what, filled her also with a -desire to reach the front gate. She ran across the plank which bridged -the stream at that point, and, taking a short cut, arrived -simultaneously with the car and the dog. And lo and behold! beside the -driver, very stiff and proud, sat Selina; the strange dog had hurled -himself into the driver’s arms, while, mysteriously sprung from -somewhere, Sarah whirled round the entire group, barking furiously. - -Ruth laughed. The events were moving with extraordinary rapidity. - -“Larry will have already explained my sudden appearance,” said the -driver, looking at her with a pair of humorous tired eyes over the top -of the dog’s head. - -“Oh, is his name Larry?” gasped Ruth, breathless from Selina’s sudden -arrival in her arms after a scramble over the man and a takeoff from the -side of the car; “I did so want to know. Be quiet, Selina; you are a bad -dog.” - -“I must explain,” said the driver gravely, “that I have not kidnapped -Selina. We stopped to water the car at Mentmore, and she got in and -refused to get out. She seemed to know what she wanted, so I brought her -along.” - -“I am ever so grateful,” said Ruth; “she has been missing since twelve -o’clock, and I have been really worried.” - -He nodded sympathetically. - -“One never knows, does one? Larry, you rascal, let me get out. I have -been worried about Larry too. I only came home two hours ago and found -he had been missing since yesterday morning. May I introduce myself? My -name is Roger North.” - -“Oh!” exclaimed Ruth, involuntarily. - -It was a name world-famous in science and literature. - -“Yes, _the_ Roger North! It is quite all right. People always say ‘Oh,’ -like that when I introduce myself. And you are the new owner of Thorpe.” - -“I am that enormously lucky person,” said Ruth. “Do come in, won’t you? -And won’t you have some tea—or something? That sounds rather vague, but -I haven’t a notion as to time.” - -“Capital! Is that a usual habit of yours, or only this once?” asked this -somewhat strange person who was _the_ Roger North. “I don’t know if -you’ve noticed it, but most people seem to spend their days wondering -what time it is! And I can drink tea at any moment, thanks very much. -Take care of the car, Larry.” - -Larry jumped on the seat, stretched himself at full length and became a -dog of stone. - -“The car belonged to his master,” explained Roger North, as they went up -the garden path. “Larry and the car both came to me when he went to -France, and though the old dog has often run over here and had a hunt -round, this is the first time he has not come straight back to me.” - -“He arrived here about six o’clock last evening,” said Ruth. “He hunted -everywhere, as you say, and then lay down and watched. I gather he spent -the night in the spare room, but this morning he had disappeared, and I -only found him again half an hour ago down by the stream. Quite happy -apparently with a man. I don’t know who the man is. He was lying by the -stream watching some kingfishers, and then your car startled us all, and -I can’t think where he disappeared to.” - -North shook his head. - -“I don’t know who it could have been. All the men Larry knew here left -long ago, and he doesn’t make friends readily.” - -The path to the house was a real cottage-garden path, bordered thickly -with old-fashioned flowers, flowers which must have grown undisturbed -for many a long year, only thinned out, or added to, with the -forethought born of love. Memories thronged North’s mind as he looked. -He wondered what demon had induced him to come in, to accept tea. It was -unlike him. But to his relief the new owner of Thorpe made no attempt at -small talk. Indeed, she left his side, and gathered a bunch of the -pinks, whose fragrance went up like evening incense to Heaven, leaving -him to walk alone. - -For Ruth Seer sensed the shadow of a great grief. It fell like a chill -across the sunlight. A sense of pity filled her. Fearing the tongue of -Miss McCox, which ceased not nor spared, she fetched the tea herself, -out on to the red-bricked pathway, facing south, and proudly called the -terrace. - -Sarah and Selina had somehow crowded into the visitor’s chair and fought -for the largest space. - -“I won’t apologize,” said Ruth. “That means you are a real dog lover.” - -He laughed. “My wife says because they cannot answer me! How did the -little ladies take Larry’s intrusion?” - -“They seemed to know he had the greater right.” - -North dropped a light kiss on each black head. - -“Bless you!” he said. - -He drank his tea and fed the dogs shamelessly, for the most part in -silence, and Ruth watched him in the comfortable certainty that he was -quite oblivious of her scrutiny. He interested her, this man of a -world-wide fame, not because of that fame, but because her instinct told -her that between him and the late owner of Thorpe there had been a great -love. When she no longer met the glance of the humorous, tired eyes, and -the pleasant voice, talking lightly, was silent, she could see the weary -soul of the man in his face. A tragic face, tragic because it was both -powerful and hopeless. He turned to her presently and asked, “May I -light a pipe, and have a mouch round?” - -Ruth nodded. She felt a sense of comradeship already between them. - -“You will find me here when you come back,” she said. “This is my hour -for the newspaper.” - -But though she unfolded it and spread it out, crumpling its pages in the -effort, after the fashion of women, she was not reading of “The Railway -Deadlock,” of “The Victory March of the Guards,” or of “The 1,000–Mile -Flight by British Airship,” all spread temptingly before her; she was -thinking of the man who had owned Thorpe Farm, the man whom Larry and -Roger North had loved, the man who lived for her, who had never known -him, in the woods and fields that had been his. - -The first evening shadows began to fall softly; a flight of rooks cawed -home across the sky. The sounds of waking life about the farm died out -one by one. - -Presently Roger North came back and sat down again, pulling hard at his -pipe. His strong dark face was full of shadows too. - -“I am glad you have this place,” he said abruptly. “He would have been -glad too.” - -And suddenly emboldened, Ruth asked the question that had been trembling -on her lips ever since he had come. - -“Will you tell me something about him?” she said. “Lately I have so -wanted to know. It isn’t idle curiosity. I would not dare to ask you if -it were. And it would be only some one who cared that can tell me what I -want to know. Because—I don’t quite know how to explain—but I seem to -have got into touch, as it were, with the mind of the man who made and -loved this place. At first it was only that I kept wondering why he had -done this or that, if he would approve of what I was doing. But lately I -have—oh, how can I explain it?—I have a sense of awareness of him. I -_know_ in some sort of odd way, what he would do if he were still here. -And when I have carried a thing out, made some change or improvement, I -know if he is pleased. Of course I expect it sounds quite mad to you. It -isn’t even as if I had known him——” - -She looked at North apologetically. - -“My dear lady,” said North gently, “it is quite easily explained. You -love the place very much, that is easily seen, and you realized at once -that the previous owner had loved it too. There was evidences of that on -every hand. And it was quite natural when you were making improvements -to wonder what he would have done. It only wants a little imagination to -carry that to feeling that he was pleased when your improvements were a -success.” - -Ruth smiled. - -“Yes, I know. It sounds very natural as you put it. But, Mr. North, it -is more than that. How shall I explain it? My mind is in touch somehow -with another mind. It is like a conscious and quiet effortless -telepathy. Thoughts, feelings, they pass between us without any words -being necessary. It is another mind than mine which thinks, ‘It will be -better to put that field down in lucerne this year,’ when I had been -thinking of oats. But I catch the thought, and might not he catch mine? -In the same way I feel when he is pleased; that is the most certain of -all.” - -Roger North shook his head. - -“Such telepathy might be possible if he were alive,” he said. “We have -much to learn on those lines. But there was no doubt as to his fate. He -was killed instantaneously at Albert.” - -“You do not think any communication possible after death?” - -There was a pause before North answered. - -“Science has no evidence of it.” - -“I could not help wondering,” said Ruth diffidently, and feeling as it -were for her words, “whether this method by which what he thinks or -wishes about Thorpe seems to come to me might not possibly be the method -used for communication on some other plane in the place of speech. Words -are by no means a very good medium for expressing our thoughts, do you -think?” - -“Very inadequate indeed,” agreed North. He got up as he spoke, and -passed behind her, ostensibly to knock the ashes out of his pipe against -the window-sill. When he came back to his chair he did not continue the -line of conversation. - -“You asked me to tell you something of my friend, Dick Carey,” he said -as he sat down. “And at any rate what you have told me gives you, I -feel, the right to ask. There isn’t much to tell. We were at school and -college together. Charterhouse and Trinity. And we knocked about the -world a good bit together till I married. Then he took Thorpe and -settled down to farming. He loved the place, as you have discovered. And -he loved all beasts and birds. A wonderful chap with horses, clever too -on other lines, which isn’t always the case. A great reader and a bit of -a musician. He went to France with Kitchener’s first hundred thousand, -and he lived through two years of that hell. He wasn’t decorated, or -mentioned in dispatches, but I saw the men he commanded, and cared for, -and fought with. They knew. They knew what one of them called ‘the -splendid best’ of him. Oh well! I suppose he was like many another we -lost out there, but for me, when he died, it was as if a light had gone -out and all the world was a darker place.” - -“Thank you,” said Ruth quite simply, yet the words said much. - -There was a little pause, then he added: - -“He became engaged to my daughter just before he was killed.” - -“Ah!” The little exclamation held a world of pain and pity. - -He felt glad she did not add the usual “poor thing,” and possibly that -was why he volunteered further. “She has married since, but I doubt if -she has got over it.” - -It was some time before either spoke again. Then Ruth said, almost -shyly, “There is just one thing more. The buttercup field? I can’t quite -understand it. It is bad farming, that field. The only bit of bad -farming on the place.” - -“You did not guess?” - -“No.” Ruth looked at him, her head a little on one side, her brow drawn, -puzzled. - -“He kept it for its beauty,” said North. “It is a wonderful bit of -colour you know, that sheeted gold,” he added almost apologetically, -when for a moment Ruth did not answer. - -But she was mentally kicking herself. - -“Of course!” she exclaimed. “How utterly stupid of me. I ought to have -understood. How utterly and completely stupid of me. I have never -thought of what he would wish from that point of view. I have been -simply trying to farm well. And I love that field for its beauty too. -Look at it in the western sunlight against the may hedge.” - -“It was the same with the may hedges,” said North. “A fellow who came -here to buy pigs said they ought to be grubbed up, they were waste of -land. He wanted railings. He thought old Dick mad when he said he got -his value out of them to look at, and good value too.” - -“I didn’t know about the hedges wasting land,” said Ruth. “But I might -have grubbed up the buttercups.” - -She looked so genuinely distressed that North laughed. - -“Don’t let this idea of yours get on your nerves,” he said kindly. -“Believe me it is really only what I said, and don’t worry about it. I -am glad though that you love the place so much. It would have hurt to -have it spoilt or neglected, or with some one living here who—jarred. -Indeed, to own the truth, I have been afraid to come here; I could not -face it. But now”—he paused, then ended the sentence deliberately—“I am -glad.” - -“Thank you,” she said again, in that quiet simple way of hers, and for a -while they sat on in silence. The warmth was still great, the stillness -perfect, save for the occasional sleepy twitter of a bird in its nest. - -Never since Dick Carey had been killed had he felt so at rest. The -burden of pain seemed to drop away. The bitterness and resentment faded. -He felt as so often in the old days, when he had come from some worry or -fret or care in the outer world or in his own home, to the peace of the -farm, to Dick’s smile, to Dick’s understanding. Almost it seemed that he -was not dead, had never gone away. And he thought of his friend, for the -first time since that telegram had come, without an anguish of pain or -longing, thought of him as he used to, when the morrow, or the next week -at least, meant the clasp of his hand, his “Hullo, old Roger,” and the -content which belongs to the mere presence only of some one or two -people alone in our journey through life. - -He wisely made no attempt to analyse the why and wherefore. He -remembered with thankfulness that he had left word at home that he might -be late, and just sat on and on while peace and healing came dropping -down like dew. - -And this quite marvellous woman never tried to make conversation, or -fussed about, moving things. She just sat there looking out at the -spring world as a child looks at a play that enthralls. - -She had no beauty and could never have had, either of feature or -colouring, only a slender length of limb, a certain poise, small head -and hands and feet, and a light that shone behind her steady eyes. A -soul that wonders and worships shines even in our darkness. She gave the -impression of strength and of tranquillity. Her very stillness roused -him at length, and he turned to look at her. - -She met the look with one of very pure friendliness. - -“I hope now I have made the plunge you will let me come over here -sometimes,” he said; “somehow I think we are going to be friends.” - -“I think we are friends already,” she said, smiling, “and I am very -glad. One or two of the neighbours have called and asked me to tea -parties. But I have lived such a different life. Except for those who -farm or garden we haven’t much in common.” - -“You have always lived on the land?” he asked. - -“Oh _no_!” she laughed, looking at him with amusement. “I lived all my -life until I was seventeen at Parson’s Green, and after that in a little -street at the back of Tottenham Court Road, until the outbreak of war. -And then I was for four years in Belgium and Northern France, cooking.” - -“Good heavens! And all the time this was what you wanted!” - -“Yes, this was what I wanted. I didn’t know. But this was it. And think -of the luck of getting it!” She looked at him triumphantly. “The amazing -wonderful luck! I feel as if I ought to be on my knees, figuratively, -all the time, giving thanks.” - -“Of course,” said Roger North slowly. “That _is_ your mental attitude. -No wonder you are so unusual a person. And how about the years that have -gone before?” - -“I sometimes wonder,” she said, thinking, “since I have come here of -course, whether every part of our lives isn’t arranged definitely, with -a purpose, to prepare us for the next part. It would help a bit through -the bad times as well as the good, if one knew it was so, don’t you -think?” - -“I daresay,” Roger North answered vaguely, as was his fashion, Ruth soon -discovered, if questioned on such things. “I wish you would tell me -something of yourself. What line you came up along would really interest -me quite a lot. And it isn’t idle curiosity either.” - -There was a little silence. - -“I should like to tell you,” she said at length. - -But she was conscious at the back of her mind that some one else was -interested too, and it was that some one else whom she wanted most of -all to tell. - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -Ruth Seer’s father had been a clergyman of the Church of England, and -had spent a short life in doing, in the eyes of his family—a widowed -mother and an elderly sister—incredibly foolish things. - -To begin with he openly professed what were then considered extreme -views, and thereby hopelessly alienated the patron of the comfortable -living on which his mother’s eye had been fixed when she encouraged his -desire to take Holy Orders. - -“As if lighted candles, and flowers on the altar, and that sort of -thing, mattered two brass farthings when £800 a year was at stake,” -wailed Mrs. Seer, to a sympathizing friend. - -Paul Seer then proceeded to fall in love, and with great promptitude -married the music mistress at the local High School for Girls. She was -adorably pretty, with the temper of an angel, and they succeeded in -being what Mrs. Seer described as “wickedly happy” in a state of -semi-starvation on his curate’s pay of £120 a year. - -They had three children with the greatest possible speed. - -That two died at birth Mrs. Seer looked upon as a direct sign of a -Merciful Providence. - -Poor lady, she had struggled for so many years on a minute income, an -income barely sufficient for one which had to provide for three, to say -nothing of getting the boy educated by charity, that it was small wonder -if a heart and mind, narrow to start with, had become entirely ruled by -the consideration of ways and means. - -And, the world being so arranged that ways and means do bulk -iniquitously large in most people’s lives, obliterating, even against -their will, almost everything else by comparison, perhaps it was also a -Merciful Providence which took the boyish curate and his small wife to -Itself within a week of each other, during the first influenza epidemic. -You cannot work very hard, and not get enough food or warmth, and at the -same time hold your own against the Influenza Fiend when he means -business. So, at the age of three, the Benevolent Clergy’s Orphanage, -Parson’s Green, London, S.E., swallowed Ruth Courthope Seer. A very -minute figure all in coal black, in what seemed to her a coal-black -world. For many a long year, in times of depression, that sense of an -all pervading blackness would swallow Ruth up, struggle she never so -fiercely. - -Asked, long after she had left it, what the Orphanage was like, she -answered instantly and without thought: - -“It was an ugly place.” - -That was the adjective which covered to her everything in it, and the -life she led there. It was ugly. - -The Matron was the widow of a Low Church parson. A worthy woman who -looked on life as a vale of tears, on human beings as miserable sinners, -and on joy and beauty as a distinct mark of the Beast. - -She did her duty by the orphans according to the light she possessed. -They were sufficiently fed, and kept warm and clean. They learnt the -three R’s, sewing and housework. Also to play “a piece” on the piano, -and a smattering of British French. The Orphanage still in these days -considered that only three professions were open to “ladies by birth.” -They must be either a governess, a companion, or a hospital nurse. - -The Matron inculcated the virtues of gratitude, obedience and -contentment, and two great precepts, “You must bow to the Will of God” -and “You must behave like a lady.” - -“The Will of God” seemed to typify every unpleasant thing that could -possibly happen to you; and Ruth, in the beginnings of dawning thought, -always pictured It as a large purple-black storm-cloud, which descended -on all and sundry at the most unexpected moments, and before which the -dust blew and the trees were bent double, and human beings were -scattered as with a flail. And in Ruth’s mind the storm-cloud was -peculiarly terrible because unaccompanied by rain. - -With regard to the second precept, when thought progressed still -farther, and she began to reason things out, she one day electrified the -whole Orphanage when rebuked for unladylike behaviour, by standing up -and saying, firmly but politely, “If you please, Matron, I don’t want to -be a lady. I want to be a little girl.” - -But for the most part she was a silent child and gave little trouble. - -Twice a year a severe lady, known as “your Grandmother,” and a younger -less severe lady, known as “your Aunt Amelia,” came to see her, and they -always hoped she “was a good girl.” - -Then Aunt Amelia ceased to come, for she had gone out to India to be -married, and “your Grandmother” came alone. And then Grandmother died -and went to heaven, and nobody came to see Ruth any more. Only a parcel -came, an event hitherto unknown in Ruth’s drab little existence, and of -stupendous interest. It contained a baby’s first shoe, a curl of gold -hair in a tiny envelope, labelled “Paul, aged 2,” in a pointed writing, -a letter in straggling round hand beginning “My dear Mamma,” another -letter in neat copper plate beginning “My dear Mother,” and a highly -coloured picture of St. George attacking the dragon, signed “Paul -Courthope Seer,” with the date added in the pointed writing. - -It was many years later that Ruth first understood the pathos of that -parcel. - -When she was seventeen the Committee found a situation for her as -companion to a lady. The Matron recommended her as suitable for the -position, and the Committee informed her, on the solemn occasion when -she appeared before them to receive their parting valediction, delivered -by the Chairman, that she was extremely lucky to secure a situation in a -Christian household where she would not only have every comfort, but -even Every Luxury. - -So Ruth departed to a large and heavily furnished house, where the -windows were only opened for a half an hour each day while the servants -did the rooms, and which consequently smelt of the bodies of the people -who lived in it. Every day, except Sunday, she went for a drive with an -old lady in a brougham with both windows closed. On fine warm days she -walked out with an old lady leaning on her arm. Every morning she read -the newspaper aloud. At other times she picked up dropped stitches in -knitting, played Halma, or read a novel aloud, by such authors as Rhoda -Broughton or Mrs. Hungerford. - -Any book less calculated to have salutary effect on a young girl who -never spoke to any man under fifty, and that but rarely, can hardly be -imagined. - -If there had been an animal in the house, or a garden round it, Ruth -might have struggled longer. As it was, at the end of three months she -proved to be one of the Orphanage’s few failures and, without even -consulting the Committee, gave notice, and took a place as shop -assistant to a second-hand bookseller in a small back street off the -Tottenham Court Road. And here Ruth stayed and worked for the space of -seventeen years—to be exact, until the year of the Great War, 1914. - -The Committee ceased to take an interest in her, and her Aunt Amelia, -still in India, ceased to write at Christmas, and Ruth’s last frail -links with the world of her father were broken. - -It was a strange life for a girl in the little bookshop, but at any rate -she had achieved some measure of freedom, she had got rid of the burden -of her ladyhood, and in some notable directions her starved intelligence -was fed. - -Her master, Raphael Goltz, came of the most despised of all race -combinations; he was a German Jew, and he possessed the combined -brain-power of both races. - -He had the head of one of Michael Angelo’s apostles, on the curious -beetle-shaped body of the typical Jew. He was incredibly mean, and -rather incredibly dirty, and he had three passions—books, music, and -food. - -When he discovered in his new assistant a fellow lover of the two first, -and an intelligence considerably above the average, he taught her how -and what to read, and to play and sing great music not unworthily. With -regard to the third, he taught her, in his own interest, to be a cook of -supreme excellence. - -And on the whole Ruth was not unhappy. Sometimes she looked her -loneliness in the face, and the long years struck at her like stones. -Sometimes her dying, slowly dying, youth called to her in the night -watches, and she counted the hours of the grey past years, hours and -hours with nothing of youth’s meed of joy and love in them. But for the -most part she strangled these thoughts with firm hands. There was -nothing to be gained by them, for there was nothing to be done. An -untrained woman, without money or people, must take what she can get and -be thankful. - -She read a great many both of the wisest and of the most beautiful books -in the world, she listened to music played by the master hand, and her -skilled cooking interested her. As the years went on, old Goltz left the -business more and more to her, spending his time in his little back -parlour surrounded by his beloved first editions, which he knew better -by now than to offer for sale, drawing the music of the spheres from his -wonderful Bluthner piano, and steadily smoking. He gave Ruth a -sitting-room of her own upstairs, and allowed her to take in the two -little dogs Sarah and Selina. On Saturday afternoons and Sundays she -would take train into the country, and tramp along miles with them in -the world she loved. - -And then, when it seemed as if life were going on like that for ever and -ever, came the breathless days before August 4, 1914, those days when -the whole world stood as it were on tiptoe, waiting for the trumpet -signal. - -Ah well! there was something of the wonder and glory of war, of which we -had read, about it then—before we knew—yes, before we knew! The bugle -call—the tramp of armed men—the glamour of victory and great deeds—and -of sacrifice too,—of sacrifice too. The love of one’s country suddenly -made concrete as it were. Just for that while, at any rate, no one -thinking of himself, or personal profit. Personal glory, perhaps, which -is a better matter. Every one standing ready. “Send me.” - -The world felt cleaner, purer. - -It was a wonderful time. Too wonderful to last perhaps. But the marks -last. At any rate we have known. We have seen white presences upon the -hills. We have heard the voices of the Eternal Gods. - -The greatest crime in history. Yes. But we were touched to finer issues -in those first days. - -And then Raphael Goltz woke up too. He talked to Ruth in the hot August -evenings instead of sleeping. Even she was astonished at what the old -man knew. He had studied foreign politics for years. He knew that the -cause of the war lay farther back, much farther back than men realized. -He saw things from a wide standpoint. He was a German Jew by blood and -in intellect, Jew by nature, but England had always been his home. That -he loved her well Ruth never had any doubt after those evenings. - -He never thought, though, that it would come to war. It seemed to him -impossible. “It would be infamy,” he said. - -And then it came. Came with a shock, and yet with a strange sense of -exhilaration about it. Men who had stood behind counters, and sat on -office stools since boyhood, stretched themselves, as the blood of -fighting forefathers stirred in their veins. They were still the sons of -men who had gone voyaging with Drake and Frobisher, of men who had -sailed the seven seas, and fought great fights, and found strange lands, -and died brave deaths, in the days when a Great Adventure was possible -for all. For them too had, almost inconceivably, come the chance to get -away from greyly monotonous days which seemed like “yesterday come -back”; for them too was the Great Adventure possible. The lad who, under -Ruth’s supervision, took down shutters, cleaned boots, knives and -windows, swept the floors and ran errands, was among the first to go, -falsifying his age by two years, and it was old Raphael Goltz, German -Jew, who even in those first days knew the war as the crime of all the -ages. - -Ruth was the next, and he helped her too; while the authorities turned -skilled workers down, and threw cold water in buckets on the men and -women standing shoulder to shoulder ready for any sacrifice in those -first days, old Raphael Goltz, knowing the value of Ruth’s cooking and -physical soundness, found her the money to offer her services free—old -Raphael Goltz, who through so many years had been so incredibly mean. He -disliked dogs cordially, yet he undertook the care of Sarah and Selina -in her absence. To Ruth’s further amazement, he also gave her -introductions of value to leading authorities in Paris who welcomed her -gladly and sent her forthwith into an estaminet behind the lines in -Northern France. - -Something of her childhood in the Orphanage, and of the long years with -Raphael Goltz, Ruth told North, as they sat together in the warmth and -stillness of the May evening, but of the years in France she spoke -little. She had seen unspeakable things there. The memory of them was -almost unbearable. They were things she held away from thought. -Beautiful and wonderful things there were too, belonging to those years. -But they were still more impossible to speak of. She carried the mark of -them both, the terrible and the beautiful, in her steady eyes. Besides, -some one else, who was interested too, who was surely—the consciousness -was not to be ignored—interested too, knew all about that. And suddenly -she realized how that common knowledge of life and death at their height -was also a bond, as well as love of Thorpe, and she paused in her tale, -and sat very still. - -“And then?” said North, after a while. - -“I was out there for two years, without coming home, the first time. -There seemed nothing for me to come home for, and I didn’t want to -leave. There was always so much to be done, and one felt of use. It was -selfish of me really, but I never realized somehow that Raphael Goltz -cared. Then I had bad news from him. You remember the time when the mobs -wrecked the shops with German names? Well, his was one of them. So I got -leave and came back to him. It was very sad. The old shop was broken to -pieces, his books had been thrown into the street and many burnt, and -the piano, his beautiful piano, smashed past all repair. I found him up -in the back attic, with Sarah and Selina. He had saved them for me -somehow. He cried when I came. He was very old, you see, and he had felt -the war as much as any of us.” - -Her eyes were full of tears, and she stopped for a moment to steady her -voice. “He bore no malice, and three days after I got back he died, -babbling the old cry, ‘We ought to have been friends.’ - -“It was always that, ‘We ought to have been friends,’ and once he said, -‘Together we could have regenerated the world.’ He left everything he -had to me, over £60,000. It is to him I owe Thorpe.” Her eyes shone -through the tears in them. - -“Come! and let me show you,” she said, and so almost seemed to help him -out of his chair, and then, still holding his hand, led him through the -door behind them, along the passage into the front hall. Here he -stopped, and undoubtedly but for the compelling hand would have gone no -farther. But the soft firm grip held, and something with it, some force -outside both of them, drew him after her into the room that once was his -friend’s. A spacious friendly room, with wide windows looking south and -west, and filled just now with the light of a cloudless sunset. - -And the dreaded moment held nothing to fear. Nothing was changed. -Nothing was spoilt. He had expected something, which to him, -unreasonably perhaps, but uncontrollably, would have seemed like -sacrilege; instead he found it was sanctuary. Sanctuary for that, to -him, annihilated personality which had been the companion of the best -years of his life. - -Dick might have come back at any moment and found his room waiting for -him, as it had waited on many a spring evening just like this. His -capacious armchair was still by the window. The big untidy -writing-table, with its many drawers and pigeon-holes, in its place. The -piano where he used to sit and strum odd bits of music by ear. - -“But it is all just the same,” he said, standing like a man in a dream -when Ruth dropped his hand inside the threshold. - -“I was offered the furniture with the house,” she said, “and when I saw -this room I felt I wanted it just as it is. Before that I had all sorts -of ideas in my head as to how I would furnish! But this appealed to me. -There is an air of space and comfort and peace about the room that I -could not bear to disturb. And now I am very glad, because I feel he is -pleased. Of course, his more personal things have gone, and I have added -a few things of my own. Look, this is what I brought you to see.” - -She pointed towards the west window, where stood an exquisitely carved -and gilded table of foreign workmanship which was new to him, and on it -burnt a burnished bronze lamp, its flame clear and bright even in the -fierce glow of the setting sun. Beside the lamp stood a glass vase, very -beautiful in shape and clarity, filled with white pinks. - -North crossed the room and examined the lamp with interest. - -“What does it mean?” he asked. - -“It is a custom of the orthodox Jews. When anyone belonging to them -dies, they keep a lamp burning for a year. The flame is never allowed to -go out. It is a symbol. A symbol of the Life Eternal. All the years of -the war Raphael Goltz kept this lamp burning for the men who went West. -You see it is in the west window. And now I keep it burning for him. You -don’t think _he_ would mind, although my poor old master _was_ a German -Jew, racially?” - -She looked up at North anxiously, as they stood side by side before the -lamp. - -“Not Dick—certainly not Dick!” said North. Ruth heaved a sigh of relief. - -“You see, I don’t really know anything about him except what I feel -about the farm, and I did want the lamp here.” - -“No, Dick wouldn’t mind. But you are mad, you know, quite mad!” - -For all that his eyes were very kindly as he looked down at her. - -“I expect it is being so much alone,” she said tranquilly, stooping to -smell the pinks. - -“Was Goltz an orthodox Jew then?” asked North. - -“Oh no, very far from it. He wasn’t anything in the least orthodox. If -you could have known him!” Ruth laughed a little. “But he had some queer -religion of his own. He believed in Beauty, and that it was a revelation -of something very great and wonderful, beyond the wildest dreams of a -crassly ignorant and blind humanity. That glass vase was his. Have you -noticed the wonderful shape of it? And look now with the light shining -through. Do you think it is a shame to put flowers in it? But their -scent is the incense on the altar.” - -“Oh, that’s the idea, is it?” said North. He spoke very gently, as one -would to a child showing you its treasures. - -“This place is full of altars,” said Ruth, her eyes looking west. “Do -you know the drive in the little spinney? All one broad blue path of -hyacinths, and white may trees on either side.” - -“Oh, that’s the idea, is it?” said North. He in his voice—“you mean -Dick’s ‘Pathway to Heaven’!” - -“Did he call it that?” - -“He said it was so blue it must be.” - -“Yes, and it seems to vanish into space between the trees.” - -“As I must,” said North. “I have paid you an unwarrantable visitation, -and I shall only just get home now before lighting-up time.” - -“You will come again?” said Ruth as they went down the garden. “I want -to show you the site for my cottages. I _think_ it is the right one.” - -“Cottages?” - -“Yes, I am going to build three. My lawyer tells me it is economically -an unsound investment. My conscience tells me it has got to be done, if -I am to enjoy Thorpe properly. Two couples are waiting to be married -until the cottages are ready, and one man is working here and his wife -living in London because there is no possible place for them. I am -giving him a room here at present.” - -North raised his eyebrows. - -“Do you take in anybody promiscuously who comes along?” he asked. - -“Well, this man went through four years of the war. Was a sergeant, and -holds the Mons Medal and the D.C.M. He is a painter by trade, and worked -for Baxter, who is putting up a billiard-room and a garage at Mentmore -Court.” - -“Mentmore Court?” North looked across at the big white house on the -hill. “Why, there is a billiard-room and a garage there already.” - -“I believe they are turning the existing billiard-room into a winter -garden, or something of that sort. And they have six cars, so the -present garage is not big enough.” - -“Your cottages will probably be of more use to the country,” said North. -“I hear he made his money in leather, and his name is Pithey. Do you -know him?” - -“Well, he took a ‘fancy’ to my Shorthorns, and walked in last week to -ask if I’d sell. Price was no object. He fancied them. Then he took a -fancy to some of the furniture and offered to buy that, and finally he -said if I was open to take ‘a profit on my deal’ over the farm, he was -prepared to go to a fancy price for it.” - -North stopped and looked at her. - -“Are you making it up?” he asked. - -Ruth bubbled over into an irrepressible laugh. - -“When he went away he told me not to worry. Mrs. Pithey _was_ coming to -call, but she had been so busy, and now those lazy dogs of workmen -couldn’t be out of the place for another month at least.” - -“And my wife is worrying me to call on him,” groaned North. “Halloo, -where is Larry?” - -“He was there a moment ago; I saw him just before you stopped, but I -never saw him jump out.” - -North called in vain until he gave a peculiar whistle, which brought a -plainly reluctant Larry to view. - -“He doesn’t want to come with me,” said North. “Get in, Larry.” And -Larry obeyed the peremptory command, while Ruth checked an impulse to -suggest that she should keep him. - -As the car started slowly up the hill he turned, laying his black and -tan velvet muzzle on the back of the hood. Long after they had vanished, -Ruth was haunted by the wistful amber eyes looking at her from a cloud -of dust. - -Slowly she went up home through the scented evening. It had been a -wonderful day. And she had made a friend. It was not such an event as it -would have been before she went to France, but it was sufficiently -uplifting even now. She sang to herself as she went. And then quite -suddenly she thought of the man in the brown suit. “I wonder who he was, -and where he disappeared to,” she said to herself, as she answered Miss -McCox’s injured summons to supper. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -“My dear Roger,” said Mrs. North, with that peculiar guinea-hen quality -in her voice which it was her privilege and pleasure to keep especially -for her husband, “have you nothing of interest to tell us? No one has -seen you since four o’clock yesterday afternoon. At any rate, not to -speak to.” - -North looked across the beautifully appointed lunch-table at the -ill-chosen partner of his joys and sorrows, while the silence, which -usually followed one of her direct attacks on him, fell upon the party -surrounding it. - -“I see you brought Larry back with you, and conclude you found him at -Thorpe,” continued Mrs. North, “and I suppose you saw Miss Seer. As it -is a moot point whether we call on her or not, you might rouse yourself -so far as to tell us what you thought of her. I am sure Arthur would -like to hear too.” - -“Very much! Very much!” said the fair, cherubic-looking little man -sitting on her right hand. “Thorpe was such a pleasant house in poor -dear Carey’s time. It would be a serious loss if the new owner were -impossible. I look upon the changes in the neighbourhood very seriously, -very seriously indeed. I was only thinking yesterday that of our old -circle only poor old Mentmore, the Condors, and ourselves are left. The -Court and Whitemead both bought by newly rich people, whom I really -dread inspecting.” - -“The St. Ubes may be all right,” interpolated Mrs. North. “I hear they -made their money doing something with shipping, and St. Ubes does not -sound a bad name.” - -“No,” allowed Mr. Fothersley. “No. Yet I do not remember to have heard -it before. It has a Cornish sound. We must inquire. They have not -arrived yet, I gather, as the new servants’ wing is not ready. But the -people at the Grange, I fear, are not only Jews, but German Jews! What a -_milieu_! And we were such a happy little set before the war, very -happy—yes.” - -“At any rate,” said the fourth member of the lunch party, a very -beautiful young woman, the only child and married daughter of the house, -“they have all an amazing amount of money, which I have no doubt they -are prepared to spend, and the German Jews I conclude you will not take -up. As for Thorpe, it is disgusting that anyone should have it. What -_is_ the woman like, father?” - -“Oh, all right,” said North. “She is looking after the place well, and -hasn’t been seized with the present mania for building billiard-rooms -and winter gardens and lordly garages.” - -“But what is she _like_?” asked Mrs. North. - -“Is she a lady, or isn’t she? You can’t call on a woman because she -hasn’t built a winter garden.” - -“Why not?” returned her husband, in his most irritating fashion. - -“By the way,” interposed Mr. Fothersley adroitly, “I hear Miss Seer -intends building cottages. A thing I do not consider at all desirable.” - -“Why not?” asked his host again. - -“We want nothing of that sort in Mentmore,” said Fothersley decisively. -“It is, in its way, the most perfect specimen of an English village in -the country—I might say in England. Building new cottages is only the -thin end of the wedge.” - -“They appear to be wanted,” said North, pushing the cigars towards his -guest. - -“That is the Government’s business,” answered Mr. Fothersley, making a -careful selection. “And we may at least hope they will put them up in -suitable places. Thank Heaven the price of land here is prohibitive. -There, however, is the danger of these newly rich people. They must -spend their money somehow. However, it may not be true. I only heard it -this morning.” - -“Did she say anything about it, Roger?” asked Mrs. North. - -“Yes she mentioned it,” answered North curtly. - -Mrs. North made an exaggerated gesture of despair as she struggled with -a cigarette. She had never succeeded in mastering the art of smoking. - -“Are you going to tell us what we want to know or not?” she asked, with -ominous calmness. “Do you advise calling on the woman, or don’t you?” - -Here Violet Riversley broke in. - -“When will you learn to put things quite plainly to father?” she asked. -“You know he can’t understand our euphuisms. I suppose it’s one of the -defects of a scientific brain.” - -She helped herself to a cigarette and held it out to North for a light. - -“What we want to know, father, is just this. Do you think Miss Seer is -likely to subscribe to the Hunt and various other things we are -interested in? If to this she adds the desire to entertain us, so much -the better, but the subscriptions are the primary things.” - -“No, no, my dear!” exclaimed Mr. Fothersley, deeply pained. “That is -just what I complain about in you young people of the present day. You -have not the social sense—you——” - -“Dear Arthur,” Violet cut him short ruthlessly, “don’t be a humbug with -me. Your Violet has known you since she was two years old. Let us in our -family circle be honest. Lord Mentmore and the Condors called on the -Pithey people because Mr. Pithey has subscribed liberally to the Hunt, -and you and mother have called because they did. Incidentally they will -probably give us excellent dinners. All I can say is, I hope you will -draw the line at the German Jews, however much money they have.” - -“Well, Roger,” said Mrs. North, who had kept her eyes fixed on her -husband during her daughter’s diversion, “shall I call or not? Surely -you are the proper person to advise me, as you have met Miss Seer.” - -North frowned irritably. - -“No, I certainly should not call,” he said, rising from the table. “She -_is_ a lady, but you would have nothing in common, and I should not -think she has enough money to make it worth while from the point of view -Vi has put so delicately before us. That all right, Vi?” - -His daughter rose too, and slipped her arm through his. - -“Quite good for you!” she said. “And now come and smoke your cigar with -me in the garden. Arthur will excuse you.” - -“Certainly! Certainly!” said Mr. Fothersley, who sincerely liked both -husband and wife apart, and inwardly deplored the necessity that they -should ever be together. He recognized the lack of fine feeling in the -wife which so constantly irritated the husband, but which did not -alienate Fothersley himself because his own mind moved really on the -same plane, in that he cherished no finer ideals. He recognized, too, -the corresponding irritation North’s total lack of the social instinct -was to a woman of his wife’s particular type. Pretty, vivacious, with a -passionate love of dress, show, and amusement, Mrs. North would have -liked to go to a party of some sort, or give one, every day in the year. -She was an admirable and successful hostess, and Mr. Fothersley was wont -to declare that Mentmore would be lost without Mrs. North. - -They were great friends. Mr. Fothersley had never seen his way to embark -on matrimony. At the same time he enjoyed the society of women. As a -matter of fact he was on terms of platonic, genuinely platonic, -friendship, with every attractive woman within reasonable reach of -Mentmore. Undoubtedly, however, Mrs. North held the first place. For one -thing the Norths were his tenants, occupying the Dower House on his -estate. It was always easy to run across to Westwood, hot foot with any -little bit of exciting gossip. They both took a lively interest in their -neighbours’ private affairs. Violet Riversley had once said that if -there was nothing scandalous to talk about, they evolved something, -after the fashion of the newspapers in the silly season. They both -loved, not money, but the things which money means. To give a perfect -little dinner, rich with all the delicacies of the season, was to them -both a keen delight. He was nearly as fond of pretty clothes as she was, -and liked to escort her to the parties, where she was always the centre -of the liveliest group and from which North shrank in utter boredom. -They agreed on all points on matters of the day, both social and -political; he gathered his opinions from _The Times_ and she from the -_Daily Mail_. He looked upon her as an extremely clever and intelligent -woman. Also he was in entire sympathy with her intense and permanent -resentment against her husband because he had persisted in devoting to -further chemical research the very large sums of money which his -scientific discoveries had brought him in from time to time. The fact -that, in addition to these sums, he derived a considerable income from a -flourishing margarine factory started by his late father’s energy and -enterprise, of which income she certainly spent by far the larger -portion, consoled her not at all. She spent much, but she could very -easily have spent more. She too could have done with four or five cars, -she too could have enlarged and expanded in various expensive -directions, even as these new _nouveaux riches_. Fothersley, who -devoutly held the doctrine that not only whatsoever a man earned, but -whatsoever he inherited, was for his own and his family’s benefit and -spending, with a reasonable contribution to local charities, or any -exceptional collection in time of stress authorized by the Mayor, felt -that Mrs. North’s resentment was wholly natural. A yearly contribution -of, say, twenty-five guineas, to research would have amply covered any -possible claim on even a scientist’s philanthropy in this direction, and -he had even told North so. - -Therefore it was only natural for Mrs. North to turn to him, even more -than to her other friends, for sympathy and understanding. - -“There now!” she exclaimed as her husband left the room. “Can you -imagine any man being so disagreeable and surly? Just because he was -asked a perfectly natural question. And I shall certainly call on the -woman.” - -“I believe she is quite possible from all I have heard,” said Mr. -Fothersley, adroitly lighting Mrs. North’s cigarette, which had gone -out. “As you know, I mean to call myself, if you would prefer to wait -for my report.” - -“Thank you. But may as well come with you. I shall probably be a help, -and you see Roger says she is a lady, and, funnily enough, he really -knows. I expect she is as dull as ditchwater; I hear she was something -in the nature of a companion before she came into some money. But -anything must be better than the Pitheys.” - -She shuddered as she replenished Mr. Fothersley’s wineglass. - -“They appear from all accounts to be very bad,” sighed Mr. Fothersley. - -“I could bear their commonness,” said Mrs. North, “one has got used to -it these days, when one meets everyone everywhere, but it is the man’s -self-satisfaction that is so overpowering. However, I am depending on -you to look after him this afternoon. Roger won’t, and Violet is nearly -as bad. I don’t know if you have noticed it, but Violet is getting -Roger’s nasty sarcastic way of saying things, and she always seems to -back him up now against me.” - -Her pretty eyes were tearful, and Mr. Fothersley looked distressed. - -“Dear Violet has never been the same since poor Carey’s death,” he said. - -Mrs. North agreed. “And yet, as you know,” she added, “I never really -approved of the engagement. Poor Dick was a dear—no one could help -liking him; but, after all, there was no getting away from the fact that -he was old enough to be her father, and besides he was not very well -off, and owing to Roger’s folly, wasting his money as he has, we could -not have made Violet a big allowance. Really, you know, Fred is a much -better match for her in every way.” - -“Quite, quite,” assented Mr. Fothersley. “But there is no doubt she felt -Carey’s death very much at the time. I certainly have noticed a -difference in her since, which her marriage has not dispelled. But -indeed all the young people seem altered since this terrible war—there -is—how shall I put it?—a want of reticence—of respect for the -conventions.” Mr. Fothersley shook his head. “I regret it very much—very -much.” - -In the meantime North and his daughter had wandered out into the shade -of the great beech-tree which was the crowning glory of an exquisite -lawn. The garden was in full perfection this wonderful May, and the -gardeners were busy putting the finishing touches before the afternoon’s -party. Not a weed or stray leaf was to be seen. Every edge was clipped -to perfection. The three tennis courts were newly marked out, their nets -strung to the exact height, while six new balls were neatly arranged on -each service line. Presently Mrs. North would come out and say exactly -where each chair and table should go. - -Violet Riversley looked at the pretty friendly scene with her beautiful -gold brown eyes, and the misery in them was like a devouring fire. She -was one of the tragedies of the war. She could neither endure nor -forget. With her mother’s good looks, pleasure-loving temperament, and -quick temper, she had much of her father’s ability. Spoilt from her -cradle, she had gone her own way and taken greedily of the good things -of this world with both hands, until Dick Carey’s death had smitten her -life into ruins. - -She was twenty-four, and she had never before known pain, sorrow or -trouble. Always she had had everything she wanted. Other people’s griefs -passed her by. She simply had no understanding of them. She was not -generous, because she never realized what it was to go without. And yet -everyone liked and many loved her. She was so gay and glad and beautiful -a thing. - -When she said good-bye to Dick Carey, she was simply unable to grasp -that he could be taken from her, and when the news of his death came she -had passionately and vehemently fought against the agony and pain and -desolation that came with it. She had genuinely and really loved him, -and nothing, absolutely nothing, seemed left. There was no pleasure any -more in anything. That was what she could not understand, could not cope -with. Her conventional faith fell from her, and she let it go without a -struggle. But her happiness she refused to let go. She clung to it, or -to the mirage of it, savagely, desperately. Dick was dead, yes, and she -wanted him with a devouring hunger. But all the other things were left. -Things she had loved. Things that had made her happy. She would not let -them go. - -After a brief space, in which the devils of bitterness and resentment -and impotent wrath rent her in pieces, she took up her old life again, -with apparently added zest. Her friends said “Violet was very plucky,” -and no one was astonished when after a year she accepted and married -Fred Riversley. It was altogether a more suitable match than one with -poor Dick Carey. Riversley was of more suitable age, rich, devoted, and -a good fellow, and as North said to her best friends, “Violet was never -suited for the wife of a poor man.” Only Roger North watched her -anxiously at times. She had been her mother’s child before, but since -Dick’s death she had turned more and more to her father. Something of -his dogged patient strength of mind seemed to become clear to her. -Something of the courage with which he faced life. - -She remembered a saying of his one day when her mother had been -flagrantly unjust and bitter to him on some matter of expenditure, so -that even she had felt ashamed. Whatever her father’s faults, his -generosity was past question. She had gone into the study and striven to -make amends, and he had looked at her with those tired humorous eyes of -his and said: - -“My dear, nothing can hurt you if you don’t let it.” - -She seized on that as some sort of creed amid the welter of all she had -ever thought she believed. - -She would not let things hurt her, She plunged more eagerly than ever -into the amusements of her world. After her marriage she started and ran -a smart officers’ hospital in London. Mrs. Riversley’s name was on many -committees. She was a noted giver of the then fashionable boy and girl -dances. A celebrated personage said she reminded him of a human fire. -There seemed a fever in her body, a restlessness which never left her. -Since the cessation of hostilities this restlessness had increased, or -possibly now that others were ceasing their activities it was more -noticeable. - -While North sat smoking his cigar she fetched a racquet and began to -practice her service on the court nearest him. She served over-hand a -swift hard service, and North watched the long slim line of her figure, -her exquisite poise, as she swung her racquet above her head and drove -the ball home. It was typical somehow of the driving force that seemed -behind her restlessness. - -Presently she stopped, and came and sat down close beside him, and when -he looked at her he saw that her mask was down and the tormented soul of -her for a moment bare. - -“It all looks just the same as ever, doesn’t it!” she said. “And we’ve -got to get through it somehow to the very end. - -“My dear,” began her father, and stopped. A blank hideous horror of -emptiness possessed him. He shivered in the hot sunshine. There was -nothing to say. He had no comfort to give her. - -“Heaven knows I’ve done my best,” she said. “I swore I wouldn’t let -Dick’s death spoil my life. I married Fred because he could give me -everything else—everything but what was impossible, and he’s a good -fellow.” She paused, then went on again, her voice very low and thin. -“There’s only one thing would do me any good—if I could hurt those -who’ve hurt me. That God, who let all this happen. I’m not the only one. -That God they teach us is almighty, and this is the best he can do for -us. You don’t believe He’s there at all, father—oh no, you don’t—I’m not -a fool! But I do, and I see Him watching it all happening, _letting_ it -all happen, according to plan, as those damned Germans used to say. If -only I could hurt them—hurt them myself. If they had only one neck that -I could wring—with my own two hands—slowly—very slowly—I think that -would do me good.” - -North pulled himself together. - -“How long have you been feeling like this, Vi?” he asked. - -“Ever since they killed Dick,” she said dully, as if the fire had -smouldered down, after a sudden sheet of flame. “I think I am made up of -hate, father. It’s the strongest thing in me. It’s so strong that I -can’t love any more. I don’t think I love Dick now. And Fred, sometimes -I hate Fred, and he’s a good fellow, you know.” - -The words filled North with a vague uncanny horror. He struggled after -normal, everyday words, but for a moment none came. He knew the girl was -overwrought, suffering from strain, but what was it that had looked at -him out of those vehement, passionate eyes? - -“Look here, Vi,” he said at length, striving to speak naturally, “you -are just imagining things. Can’t you take a pull on yourself and go easy -for a bit? You’re overdoing it, you know, and these sort of ideas are -the result.” - -“I’m sorry, father.” - -She bent sideways, letting her head rest against his shoulder, and -seeking his hand, held it close. Such a demonstration was foreign to her -with him. When she was small, some queer form of jealousy on her -mother’s part had come between them. He felt shy and awkward. - -“I don’t know what made me break out like that,” she went on. “I think -it must have been coming back here and seeing everything just the same -as it used to be before the war came. Until to-day, when I’ve been down -it’s been so quiet and different, with no parties, and nothing going on. -Now it’s gone back like everything else is going back—only I cannot.” - -“Nothing goes back, dear,” answered North. “It’s not the same for anyone -really. Not even for the quiet young people who’ll come and play here -without a trouble as you used to. But there’s always the interest of -going forward. If we’ve suffered, at least we’ve gained experience from -it, which is knowledge. And there’s always some work to be done for -every season that could not be done sooner or later. That helps, I -think.” - -“Dear old father,” she said softly. “We used not to be really great -friends in the old days. But now somehow you’re the only person I find -any comfort in. I think perhaps it is because we are both putting up a -hard fight.” - -“Don’t forget the spice of life is battle, Vi, as Stevenson has it. I’m -inclined to think, though”—he spoke slowly as one envolving a thought -new to him—“I’m inclined to think we sometimes confuse bitterness and -rebellion with it. That’s not clean fighting. My dear, put that hate you -speak of away from you, if you can—and have nothing to do with -bitterness—they are forces which can only make for evil.” - -There was a little pause. - -“I don’t think I can, father. It’s part of me. Sometimes I think it’s -all me, and sometimes I’m frightened.” - -“Look here, Vi,” said North, struggling with a disinclination to make -the proposition that was in his mind, a disinclination that he felt was -ridiculous, “I wish you would go over to Thorpe and get to know Miss -Seer.” - -Violet sat up and looked at him with wide-open eyes. - -“But why? I should hate it!” she exclaimed. “It would remind me—oh, of -so many things! It would make me feel even worse——” - -“Well, so I thought,” said North. “I can tell you I dreaded going. But -the old place is full of a—a strange sort of rest. I didn’t realize how -full of bitterness and resentment I had been until sitting there it all -dropped away from me. It was as if a stone had been rolled away. I -hadn’t realized how it was hurting until it left off.” - -He spoke disjointedly, and as if almost against his will. He was glad -when the sound of his wife’s and Mr. Fothersley’s approaching voices -made Violet release his hand and stand up. - -“You think Thorpe would lay my devils too?” she asked, looking down at -him. - -“I think,” he said gravely, “it is worth trying.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -Mrs. North’s tennis party pursued its usual successful career in the -brilliant sunshine, which, as Mr. Fothersley remembered, always favoured -her. Fred Riversley had brought an unexpected carload of R. A. F. boys -down from London with him. This made a tournament possible, as Mrs. -North saw at once. They drew partners with much fun and laughter. Mr. -Fothersley telephoned to Fairbridge for a selection of prizes to be sent -out by the 4.30 bus. It was one of the charming sort of things which Mr. -Fothersley did. It was more particularly nice of him on this particular -afternoon than usual, because, so far as Mr. Fothersley was concerned, -Mr. Pithey was making it almost unbearable. - -He was a large, flat, pale yellow gentleman, with a peculiarly -penetrating metallic voice. He had a very long nose, with a broad tip -curving upwards, and small keen eyes which darted everywhere. Without -the slightest hesitation he took the place which from time immemorial -belonged to Mr. Fothersley at all Mentmore parties. Under the -beech-tree, where by all the rights of precedence Mr. Fothersley should -have led the conversation, Mr. Pithey’s metallic voice held sway and -drove all before it. In the usual walk round the garden, always -personally conducted by Mr. Fothersley and his hostess, Mr. Pithey laid -down the correct lines on which to bed out, to grow carnations, to keep -down weeds, or anything else that cropped up. When Mr. Fothersley drew -attention to the fact that on any of the courts the final of the -hard-fought set was in progress, it was Mr. Pithey’s voice that drowned -all others as he shouted “Well played!” and gave advice to all -concerned. In fact, Mr. Pithey dominated the party. - -Mrs. Pithy, a small blue-faced lady, very expensively dressed, sat in a -comfortable basket chair with her feet on a stool and, unless actually -asked a question, she spoke to no one except her husband, whom she -always addressed by name. Bertie when she remembered, ’Erb when she -forgot. - -Even the arrival of Lady Condor, undoubtedly the personage of the place, -made no impression on this strange couple’s evident conviction that they -were people of supreme importance in the universe. Lady Condor could -have put the Old Gentleman himself in his place if the mood were on her, -but on this occasion, as it happened, she was frankly and evidently -entertained by the Pitheys. Mr. Fothersley regretted it. Seldom had he -looked out more anxiously for the arrival of her wheeled chair -surrounded by its usual escort of five white West Highlanders. Lady -Condor always used her chair, in preference to her car, for short -journeys, so that her dogs also might have an outing. Seldom had he been -more disappointed in her, and Lady Condor was given to amazing -surprises. This was certainly one of them. Solemnly, and as far as was -possible in his manner conveying the honour being conferred on him, Mr. -Fothersley led Mr. Pithey to Lady Condor’s chair, so soon as she had -been ensconced by her hostess in a comfortable and shady spot near the -tea-tables and with a good view of the tennis. Not that she ever looked -at it for more than a second at a time, she was always too busy talking, -but it was _de rigueur_ that she should have the best place at any -entertainment. - -Mrs. Pithey, for the moment, it was impossible to introduce, as it would -plainly not occur to her to leave her chair until she had finished her -tea for anybody, except, possibly, Mr. Pithey. - -Mr. Fothersley effected Mr. Pithey’s introduction admirably. The -delicate shade of deference in his own manner left nothing to be -desired. - -“May I be allowed to present Mr. Pithey, dear Lady Condor?” he asked, -deftly bringing that gentleman’s large pale presence into her line of -vision. - -“Ah—how-d’ye-do? No, don’t trouble to shake hands.” She waved away a -large approach. “You can’t get at me for the dogs. And where are my -glasses? Arthur, I have dropped them somewhere. Could it have been in -the drive? No, I had them since. What! on my lap? Oh yes—thank you very -much.” - -She put them on and looked at Mr. Pithey, and Mr. Pithey looked at her. - -“Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Do you always take a pack of dogs about -with you?” Plainly Mr. Pithey disapproved. Jock and Jinny, father and -mother of the family, were moving in an unfriendly manner round his -feet. “Just call them off, will you?” - -Mr. Fothersley awaited the swift and complete annihilation of Mr. -Pithey. It was a matter of doubt if even Lady Condor could have -accomplished it; at any rate, she made no attempt. She continued to look -at him with what might almost be described as appreciation in her shrewd -eyes under their heavy lids. Only she did not call the dogs off. - -And then, to an amazed company of the Mentmore élite, she gave Mr. -Pithey her whole and undivided attention for the space of nearly half an -hour. - -Mr. Pithey gave his opinion as it was always apparently his pride and -pleasure to do, on many and various things. - -“The old order changeth, yielding place to new,” might have served for -the text of Mr. Pithey’s conversation. - -“Who’s been at the head of affairs in this village _I_ don’t know,” he -said largely, “but more rotten management, more want of enterprise, more -lack of ordinary sense, I’ve never come across. Why, you see it -everywhere! Here’s the whole place without any light, unless you call -lamps and candles light, and a stream running through the place. Water -power at your doors, by Jingo! And money in it too, or I shouldn’t be -taking it up. Ever been in Germany?” He gulped down his third cup of -tea, and looked around at his now more or less interested audience. - -“Well, they’ve got electric light in every potty little village you go -to, got it there still at this minute, and”—Mr. Pithey laid a large -yellow hand on Lady Condor’s knee—“_cheaper_ than you can get it over -here.” - -“One really can’t believe it!” exclaimed Mrs. North. “Surely it’s not -possible!” - -“Everything is possible,” said Lady Condor, curiously examining Mr. -Pithey’s hand through her glasses. - -“I was over there, staying near Cologne on business last week,” returned -Mr. Pithey impressively. “So I ought to know. And when you know me -better, Mrs. North”—Mr. Fothersley’s shudder was almost audible—“you’ll -know I don’t talk without my book. I got nails over there—metal, mind -you—cheaper than you can get ’em here. P’rhaps you won’t credit that!” - -He helped himself to more cake, and started afresh. - -“Now look at the farming round about here. Rotten, that’s what it is, -rotten! Never went in for it myself before, but I know when a concern’s -run as it should be or not. There’s only one farm in this district -that’s real tip-top, and that’s Thorpe. It’s a little bit of a place, -but it’s well run. Run by a woman too! But she’s a fool. If you’ll -believe me, I offered her a twenty-five per cent. profit on whatever the -price she gave for that little place, and she wouldn’t take it. Just -have suited me to play with. And there’s one or two things there I’d -like up at the Court. By the way, any gentleman or lady here got some of -those old lead water tanks they’d like a fancy price for, because I’m a -buyer.” - -By this time the assembly under the beech-tree was more or less -paralysed, and Mrs. North was wondering what madness had possessed her -to be the first to ask Mr. Pithey to meet Lady Condor. But Lady Condor -continued to beam; not only to beam, but every now and then to break -into a chuckle. And yet this was not at all the sort of thing one would -have expected to amuse her. - -“Old lead water tanks!” she repeated, thoughtfully. “Dear Arthur, would -you mind putting Jock on my lap? Thank you so much. And now Jinny! -There, darlings! Don’t be nervous, Mr. Pithey. They never really _bite_ -unless you come too close. Let me see, where were we? Oh—yes—tanks! No, -I am afraid I have none for sale just now.” - -“You see,” said Mr. Pithey confidentially, “if I get the stuff off some -of you old inhabitants I know it’s the right sort, and I don’t mind what -I pay.” - -“If you go on talking much longer, Bertie, you’ll be late for seeing the -man who’s coming about the butler’s place,” said Mrs. Pithey, suddenly, -from her chair. She had just finished her tea, and swept many crumbs -from her lap as she spoke. - -“Quite right, my dear! Quite right!” Mr. Pithey rose as he spoke. “I’m -never late for an appointment, Mrs. North. Matter of conscience with me, -never mind who it’s with, butler or duke.” It was characteristic of Mr. -Pithey that he put the butler first. “Well, good-by to you all.” Mr. -Pithey shook hands largely all round, followed by Mrs. Pithey. “Pleased -to have met your Ladyship. Sorry not to have seen your good husband, -Mrs. North. _The_ man in this place, I reckon. That margarine business -of his is one of the best managed in Leicester, and we don’t let flies -walk on us there, anyhow. He goes in for a bit of science and writing as -well, doesn’t he? Good all round man, eh?” - -And, conscious of having been generally pleasant, Mr. Pithey removed his -large pale presence to where his Rolls-Royce car awaited him in the -front drive. - -“I know you will forgive me, dear lady,” said Mr. Fothersley, his voice -trembling with emotion, “if I do not see them off.” - -“Indeed, yes!” exclaimed Mrs. North. The allusion to the margarine -factory had made her hot all over. “What perfectly hateful people! He -did nothing but talk, and she did nothing but eat!” - -Lady Condor arose briskly from her chair, scattering West Highlanders -around her. - -“Where is Roger?” she demanded. “I am going to be really clever if I can -only concentrate sufficiently to say what I mean. Don’t distract my -thoughts, any of you! But I must have Roger! He is the only really -brainy one among us—at least, I mean he is the only one who’s used his -brains. I have naturally a very good brain, but it is rusty from want of -use. All our brains are rusty. But what is it I want? Oh yes—Roger. In -his study, my dear? Let us all go—yes. Where are my glasses, and my -gloves? Please put them in your pocket until I go, Arthur. I cannot -afford to lose them as I used to do. Down, children! down!” - -She took Mrs. North’s arm, and with Mr. Fothersley on her other hand and -the dogs in full chorus, started across the lawn toward the house. - -“Well played, Violet! well played! The child’s as good as ever at it. -But where were we going? Oh yes—I must have Roger. We will surprise him -through the window. He will be very cross, but he won’t say anything -because it’s me. Ah—but there he is——” - -North’s long figure came out into the sunlight, and as he approached the -group he had much the air of a big schoolboy who had been playing -truant. - -“I apologize profusely,” he said. “My intentions were of the very best. -I intended to come out to tea, but I happened on Mr. Pithey in the hall, -where he was endeavouring to purchase Mansfield——” - -There was a chorus of exclamations. - -“Well, he was asking Mansfield to recommend him a good butler for a -gentleman’s establishment. Salary no object, if man satisfactory. I -confess I ran away. Lady Condor, if you will drink another cup of tea I -should love to fetch it for you, but it is plainly not my fault if you -will encourage my wife to entertain these people.” - -“You would never entertain anybody if you had your own way,” said his -wife. - -“I would always entertain Lady Condor. Or rather, I am always sure Lady -Condor will entertain me.” - -“Well, I am delighted with Mr. Pithey,” announced Lady Condor, -reoccupying her chair, and enjoying the sensation she created. “Yes. In -Mr. Pithey I see our—now what is the word I want?—oh yes—our avenger! -The people have dethroned Us. They are taxing Us out of existence. -Condor told me this morning he must put the Cleve estate into the -market. I shall be lucky if I keep my diamonds, and poor Hawkhurst will -be lucky if he and his wife don’t end in the workhouse. But where was I? -I had got it all in my head just now. If only I could write it all down -directly I think of it, I could make my fortune as a writer of leaders -in a daily paper. Yes. They have dethroned Us, and they will get -Pitheys, dozens of Pitheys, instead. We shall be ruined, obsolete, -extinct, but we shall be revenged. They will get Pitheys in our place. -Heaven be praised! The old _nouveaux riches_ were bearable. They had -reverence, they recognized their limitations, they were prepared to be -taught. Look at you dear people, of course we have all known about the -margarine. And you, dear Nita, yours was wine—or was it mineral -water?—something to drink, wasn’t it? We needn’t hide anything now, -because the Pitheys will strip everything bare. If you dear things had -come here with 2½d. a year, and lived in a villa, we should never have -known you. And yet—yes, now I have it—yet really and truly, Roger was -the real aristocracy. The aristocracy of brains. The margarine and wine -didn’t matter, nor did the money—at least, I mean it ought not to have. -I’m getting terribly muddled! And where is my scarf? Did I drop it when -I got up? Oh, here it is. You see, We made the aristocracy of wealth. We -couldn’t resist the shoots in Scotland for the boys, and the balls for -the girls, and the snug directorships on big companies. Yes—we smirched -our position—our grandfathers and grandmothers would never have done it. -And now here we are positively being patronized—yes, dear -Arthur—patronized by Pitheys. I think I have gone off on to another -tack. It was losing my scarf! But I am delighted with Pithey. He will -avenge Us on the masses—Pithey the Avenger—yes. But I should have put it -much better if I could have said it while he was here. Arthur, do look -more cheerful! Think of Pithey as the avenger. It makes him so bearable. -And I will have that cup of tea, Roger!” - -“I cannot laugh,” said Mr. Fothersley. His voice, even though addressing -Lady Condor, held a word of rebuke. “We should never have called! It -enrages me to think that we should have submitted to such—such——” - -Words failed him. “However,” he added, “we have reason to be thankful we -did not call on the St. Ubes. I gathered to-day that the name, which -might easily have misled us, was originally _Stubbs_. I shall _not_ -call. These Pithey people——” - -Again words failed him, and Lady Condor chuckled. - -“Mrs. Pithey disapproves of me,” she announced. “She is probably telling -Mr. Pithey that I paint. I must own it is very badly done to-day; -Mullins was in a temper. She always makes me up badly when she is in a -temper. Now do let us enjoy ourselves! Let us forget the Pithian -invasion. Thank you—and some cake—yes. And some one else must have some -tea to keep me company. Dear Nita—yes. The poor hostess never gets -enough tea. Now this is cosy. And where are my glasses? I have not -_looked_ at the tennis yet. And I know it is very good. And I have not -spoken to dear Violet, or to Fred. And there, why surely they are -playing together. Did they draw together? How strange! The child is -lovelier than ever. And now they have finished. Bring them to have tea -with me. What is Fred now? A major! Isn’t it too ridiculous? And I -suppose those little boys you have brought with you in R.A.F. uniforms -are Brigadier-Generals. And have you won the tournament, my dears?” - -“No,” said Fred Riversley. He and Violet had shaken hands and had waited -till Lady Condor stopped for breath. “No. I played very badly. Even Vi -couldn’t pull me through.” - -He was a fair heavily-built young man, and while the ladies talked, all -three seemingly at once, for Lady Condor rarely ceased, he sat down on -the grass and was at once the centre of attraction for the five dogs. -When a momentary pause occurred, he asked, “How’s Dudley?” - -“Dudley,” said Lady Condor, “has got his aluminium leg. It is really too -wonderful. You’d never guess it wasn’t a real live leg—unless he tries -to run, which of course he mustn’t do. But everything else. And John, we -had letters from only yesterday. Russia—yes—and Heaven knows when we’ll -get him back. And where is your Harry? Why, it seems only yesterday he -was retrieving tennis balls in a sailor suit!” - -“Harry is stuck at Marseilles,” said Riversley, “on his way to Egypt. -Doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him till Peace is signed.” - -The little group fell on a sudden silence, a silence that the steady -thud of the tennis balls, the call of the scores, the applause, did not -touch. A shadow seemed to cross the sunbathed lawns and brilliant -flower-beds. There were others whom they all remembered, of whom no one -would ever ask for news again. - -Riversley got up and carried the empty cups back to the tea-table. Then -he stood and watched the tennis for a little space. - -His mind moved heavily, but he was conscious that, in spite of all the -momentum given by a great reaction, it would not be so easy as of old to -make a business of pleasure. - -Presently he slipped away to the peace and seclusion of his -father-in-law’s study. It was a long low room, lined from floor to -ceiling with books. North’s writing-table stood in one window, the other -opened on to the lawn, while a further means of escape was afforded by a -second door at the end of the room opening into his laboratory. In the -great armchair guarding the hearth slept respectively Larry and -Victoria, the little lady fox-terrier who owned Roger North. Between Vic -and Larry there existed a curious compact, immovable apparently as the -laws of the Medes and Persians. Each had a share of the room on which -the other never encroached, and Larry possessed certain privileges, -plainly conceded by Victoria, with regard to North, beyond which he -never went. In all other matters the two were fast friends, and had been -so long before Larry came to live at Westwood. Lady Condor’s West -Highlanders they tolerated in the garden, but never in the house. Both -dogs greeted Riversley with effusion, and the heavy, silent young man -sat with Victoria on his knee and Larry at his feet, surrounding himself -with clouds of smoke and stroking the little sleek head against his arm. - -Presently North joined him. “You are staying the night?” he asked, -accepting a proffered cigar. - -“No.” Riversley emptied his pipe of ashes and began to refill it. - -“I’ve made the excuse of business in London,” he went on after that -little pause. “I think Vi wants a change from—everything.” - -There was another pause, but still North did not speak. He understood -this stolid and apparently rather ordinary young man better than most -people did. He knew the difficulty with which he spoke of things that -touched him deeply, things that really mattered. So he lit his cigar and -passed the light in silence, and presently Riversley went on again. - -“You see, I still think Vi did the best thing she could, under the -circumstances, when she married me,” he said, “but even so it has not -been the success I hoped it would have been. There’s something wrong. -Something more than having to put up with me instead of a chap like old -Dick. It was a knock-down blow losing him, but Vi was damned plucky over -that, and it doesn’t account for——” - -“What?” asked North, sharply this time, when the usual pause came. - -“I don’t know,” answered Riversley, stolid as ever. “That’s what worries -me. I can’t put a name to it. But there’s something wrong. Vi’s altered, -and it isn’t for the better.” - -“Altered?” - -“Well, she looks at things differently—she’s lost—oh, I don’t know.” - -“My dear fellow, can’t you be a little more explicit?” - -“No. I’m a stupid sort of a fellow, or perhaps I’d understand better -what’s wrong. The only thing definite that I can lay hold of is, that -she gets sudden spasms of hatred, and it’s—well, it’s like looking into -a red-hot hell. I don’t know how else to describe it. She always had a -bit of a temper, you know, but this is different. And”—his voice dropped -a little and lost its steadiness for a moment—“the animals won’t go near -her sometimes.” - -There was a queer strange silence for a minute across which the laughter -outside broke like a jangling wire. - -“I expect she’s treated them unjustly,” said North, conscious even as he -spoke of the futility of his reason. - -“Dogs never resent where they care,” said Riversley briefly. “It’s not -that. They—they are afraid of her for some reason, and it’s horribly -uncanny sometimes. I thought perhaps if she came down here without me, -had a rest from me you know, it would help her a bit.” - -North nodded. “I think you are wise. I hope it’s only a passing phase. -She’s been through a stiff time, and we are none of us yet quite normal, -I fancy.” - -“It isn’t as if she’d care for me,” Riversley went on steadily. “I took -my risk, and I’d take it again, and I’m not blaming her, mind you. And -I’m only telling you about it because she seems to hang on to you, and -you’ll be able to help her better if you know.” - -“Yes, I understand that,” returned North. He felt, as a matter of fact, -particularly helpless. What Riversley had just told him, coupled with -Violet’s outburst to himself that afternoon, worried and disturbed him -not a little. He remembered those words of hers: “Sometimes I am -frightened.” The words overwrought, hysterical, long-strained, jumbled -in his mind and brought no comfort. Then suddenly, like a hand stretched -out to a stumbling man, came the thought of Thorpe, its radiant peace, -the steady eyes of Ruth Seer. And with that came the thought of Dick -Carey. He looked across at Riversley. - -“There’s one thing I’d like to tell you,” he said, “and that is, Dick -wished Violet had chosen you instead of himself. He felt somehow that -you were really better suited to her.” - -Riversley’s eyes met his in blank amazement. “Dick thought that?” - -“He always felt he was too old for Vi. But she was desperately in love -with him, and he knew it, and you know old Dick. Besides, Vi could twist -almost any man round her little finger. But that he would have been glad -if her choice had fallen on you instead of himself, I have no doubt -whatever.” - -Riversley stood up, filling his chest with a long breath. “Thank you for -telling me,” he said. “It’s a help.” - -“There’s one other thing I’d like to say,” North went on, speaking -rather hurriedly, “and that is, see that you and Vi don’t get like -myself and her mother. Vi is like her in some ways, and though no doubt -I’ve been in fault too, and we were always wholly unsuited, yet we began -under better conditions than you have. And now we’ve got on each other’s -nerves so much that everything she says or does irritates me, and vice -versa. We _can’t_ get right now if we would. She thinks she’s fond of me -still, because it’s the correct thing to be fond of your husband, but -it’s far nearer hatred than love. And I—have no delusions. And for God’s -sake, my boy, keep clear of following in our footsteps.” - -“We come of a different generation, sir,” said Riversley simply. “If we -can’t hit it off, we shall part. Only if there is trouble ahead for her, -and I am afraid there is, I’m right there.” - -North looked at him with kindly eyes, but he sighed. He knew only too -well how the long years of misunderstanding, and irritability, and want -of give and take, can wear out what at first seemed such a wonderful and -indestructible thing. - -“Roger! Roger!” shrilled his wife’s voice from the lawn. “Everyone is -going. Aren’t you coming to say good-bye?” - -She flashed on their vision as she called, her face flushed with -indignation under her beflowered hat, her hands full of small boxes, -tissue paper and cotton wool. - -“I really do think you might help a little! It looks so odd, and all my -friends think you peculiar enough already.” - -Brought back with a shock to the deadly importance of the ordinary -routine, North became flippant. “You don’t mean to say they tell you -so?” he asked. - -“It’s easy enough to guess what they must think, without any telling,” -retorted his wife. “At any rate, if you can’t behave with common -civility yourself, you might let Fred come and help me. Fred, I have -arranged for cold supper at 8.30. Will you come at once and look after -the friends you brought down, while Violet and I change. And don’t, I -beg you, for Violet’s sake, get into the same ways as her father.” - -Riversley followed her meekly across the lawn. “I’m really awfully -sorry,” he apologized. “Is there anything else I can do?” - -Then he stopped. His mother-in-law was immersed in a group of her guests -saying good-bye, and his eyes had found the figure they always sought. -Outside the front door, Lady Condor, her scarves, gloves, and glasses, -were all being packed carefully into her bath-chair, and a little way -down the drive was his wife. In front of her, just out of arm’s length, -were the little pack of West Highlanders, barking furiously. She stooped -down, coaxing them to come and be petted. - -He progressed across the lawn towards her in his usual rather ponderous -fashion, and stood watching. All the light of the sun seemed for him to -centre round that slim white figure. It touched the smooth dark silk of -her hair with a crown of glory, and found no flaw in the clear pale -skin, the rose-red mouth. Those slender hands held out to the dogs, he -would have followed them to the end of the earth. He loved all of her, -with every thing he had or was. - -Presently she gave up her hopeless efforts, and, standing to her full -height, looked at him across the still barking dogs. - -“They have forgotten me, the little pigs!” she said. “They won’t even -let me pat them.” - -But Riversley knew, even as dogs do not resent where they love, neither -do they forget. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -“If I were not a farmer, I would like to be a master mason,” said Ruth -Seer very firmly. - -She was sitting by the roadside, watching the workmen lay the foundation -for her first cottage. The process interested her enormously. The master -mason at intervals paused in his work and instructed her as to its -purport. She was learning the use and meaning of the square, the level, -and the plumb-rule. She was also enjoying herself quite a lot. - -Across her knees lay Bertram Aurelius. He guggled cheerfully in answer, -and bit her forefinger vigorously with such teeth as he possessed. - -Bertram Aurelius had come into the world without benefit of clergy. His -father belonged to the B.E.F., his mother was a between-maid, and in the -ordinary course of events he should have gone to his own place. But -values had shifted considerably during the years of the Great War, and -in the year of Peace both male babies, even though unauthorized, and -between-maids, had come to be recognized as very distinctly valuable -assets. - -Gladys Bone, Bertram Aurelius’s mother, aged eighteen, was pathetically -anxious to please, a trait which had probably assisted in her undoing, -and took the good advice meekly, except where Bertram Aurelius was -concerned. Here the good ladies, who had with great difficulty scraped -together the money to start a rescue home for unmarried mothers in -Fairbridge, reasoned with her in vain. She insisted on his certainly -somewhat startling combination of names and persisted in calling him by -both. She was perfectly unashamed of the fact that he had no authentic -father. - -“Ain’t he beautiful?” seemed to appear to her quite a sufficient answer -to those who endeavoured to present the subject in its proper light. -And, worst of all, she absolutely refused to be separated from him. - -The little grey-haired, pink-cheeked spinster, who practically settled -such matters, was in despair. In her inmost heart she sympathized with -Gladys, Bertram Aurelius being an infant of considerable charm. At the -same time she realized that it was almost impossible to find anyone mad -enough to engage a housemaid, or even a between-maid, with a baby thrown -in. - -One day, however, when Bertram Aurelius had reached the adorable age of -ten months, the unexpected happened. Little Miss Luce travelled from -London in the same carriage with Ruth Seer, and getting into -conversation, told her the story of Gladys and Bertram Aurelius Bone. At -the moment Ruth was meditating the possibility of getting a girl to help -Miss McCox without permanently destroying the peace of Thorpe Farm. -Gladys Bone seemed the possibility. Never having lived, save for her -brief three months’ companionship, in a well-regulated family, the -accompanying baby did not strike her as an impossibility, but rather as -a solution. - -Then and there on arriving at Fairbridge did Miss Luce carry her off to -see them both. - -Bertram Aurelius had eyes the colour of a delphinium, a head of red -down, and a skin like strawberries and cream. He had little hands that -held you tight and pink toes which he curled and uncurled. He crowed at -Ruth and promptly put her finger in his mouth. - -“Ain’t he beautiful?” said his small mother. - -“She is really an excellent worker,” said little Miss Luce, when Gladys -and Bertram Aurelius had been dismissed. “And she will do anything for -anyone who is good to the baby. If you think you _could_ manage with -him, possibly——?” - -She looked at Ruth anxiously. - -Ruth laughed. “My dear lady,” she said, “I have just discovered that the -one thing wanted to make Thorpe perfect is a baby.” - -“But you have other servants,” suggested Miss Luce. “I fear you may find -them a difficulty.” - -Certainly Miss McCox’s attitude towards the situation was more than -doubtful, but Ruth had learnt that a distinctly soft kernel existed -somewhere under the hard shell of an unattractive personality. She -thought of Bertram Aurelius’s blue eyes and soft red head. - -“I think you must send Gladys out to Thorpe to apply for the situation -_with_ Bertram Aurelius,” she said. - -They looked at each other, and Miss Luce nodded comprehensively. “He is -a very attractive baby,” she murmured. - -It was the next morning, while Ruth was revelling in the arrival of -delicious fluffy yellow things in her fifty-egg incubator, that Miss -McCox emerged from the house, evidently the bearer of news of -importance. - -As always, she was spotlessly clean and almost unbearably neat, and her -clothes appeared to be uncomfortably tight. Her collar was fastened by a -huge amber brooch, her waist-belt by a still larger glittering metal -buckle, both presents from the young man to whom she had been engaged in -her distant youth, and who had died of what Miss McCox described as a -declining consumption. Out of the corner of Ruth’s eye she looked -distinctly uncompromising. - -“There’s a young woman come to apply for the situation,” she announced. - -“Does she seem likely to be any good?” asked Ruth, still busy with the -incubator. - -“She’s got a baby,” said Miss McCox, who always came to the point. “And -she wants to keep it.” - -“A baby?” - -“A baby,” repeated Miss McCox firmly. “A baby as didn’t ought to have -come, but it’s there.” - -“Oh!” said Ruth weakly. “Well, what do you think about it?” - -Miss McCox fingered the amber brooch. This Ruth knew to be a distinct -sign of weakness. - -“The young woman’s civil spoken, and I reckon there’s worse about _with_ -their ring on,” she said darkly. “I’m willin’ to try her, if you are.” - -Ruth hid a smile among the yellow chicks. The charm of Bertram Aurelius -had worked. - -“But the baby?” she asked. “Can we possibly manage with the baby?” - -“Why not?” returned Miss McCox sharply. “Babies aren’t much trouble, God -knows! It’s the grown-ups make _me_ sick!” - -So Bertram Aurelius came to live at Thorpe, and was rapidly absorbed -into the life on the farm. He was a good and cheerful infant, and anyone -could take charge of him. He was equally contented, whether viewing the -world over Ruth’s shoulder while she inspected the farm, or in his -cradle in the corner of the kitchen listening to curious noises called -singing, which Miss McCox, to the amazement of the whole establishment, -produced for his benefit. He would lie among the hay in a manger, even -as the Babe of all time, while Ruth and the cowman milked, or on his -crawler on the terrace, guarded by Sarah and Selina, who took to him -much as if he had been one of those weird black and white puppies of -Sarah’s youthful indiscretion. And Gladys, his mother, worked cheerfully -and indefatigably to please, sitting at Miss McCox’s feet for -instructions, and the peace and comfort of Thorpe deepened and broadened -day by day. - -It was now near mid-June, and the fine weather still held. Day after day -broke to unclouded sunshine, a world full of flowers and the rhythmic -life of growing things. The seeds and baby plants cried for rain, the -hay and fruit crops would suffer, but Ruth, her heart torn both ways, -could not regret. It was all so beautiful, and when the rain came, who -could tell? It might be all the real summer weather of the year, this -wonderful May and June. - -To-day, little ever-so-soft white clouds broke the clear blue of the -sky, but there was still no sign of change. The wild roses and the broom -were in perfection, and everywhere was the honey and almond scent of -gorse; the buttercup glory was over but the ox-eyed daisies were all -out, turning their sweet moon faces to the sun. - -From where she sat Ruth could see the rose-red roofs of Thorpe with the -white pigeons drowsing in the heat. Her cottages were to be equally -beautiful on a smaller scale. She dreamt, as she sat in the warmth and -the sweetness, with Bertram Aurelius cooing softly in her lap, -visualizing pictures such as were growing in the minds of many in the -great year of Peace, seeing beautiful homes where the strong man and the -mother, with sturdy round-limbed children, should live, where the big -sons and comely daughters should come in and out, in the peace of plenty -and to the sound of laughter. It might all be so wonderful, for the -wherewithal is ours, is here with us. The good brown earth, the sun and -the rain, fire and water, all the teeming life of nature, all ours to -mould into a life of beauty for ourselves and our children. - -Dreams? Yes. But such dreams are the seeds of the beautiful, which -shall, if they find soil, blossom into beauty in the time to come, for -the little children lying on our knees, clutching at our hearts. - -Presently there intruded into Ruth’s dreams the large presence of Mr. -Pithey, and she discovered him standing in the white dust of the road in -front of her. Disapproval and curiosity both appeared together in his -little sharp eyes. According to Mr. Pithey’s ideas it was distinctly -unseemly for a person in Ruth’s position to sit by the roadside “like a -common tramp,” as he expressed it to Mrs. Pithey later on. To his mind, -somehow, the baby in her lap accentuated the unseemliness, and it made -the thing worse that she was both hatless and gloveless. Had she been -properly dressed for the roads, the rest might have been an accident. - -“I should think you’d get a sunstroke, sitting by the road like that -without your hat,” he said. - -Mr. Pithey himself was expensively dressed in pale grey with a white -waistcoat and spats. On his head he wore a five-guinea panama, and his -general appearance forcibly reminded Ruth of an immaculately groomed -large, pale yellow pig. Her grey eyes smiled at him out of her -sun-browned face. She had a disarming smile. - -“I believe I was nearly asleep,” she said, and dug her knuckles into her -eyes much as a child does. - -Mr. Pithey softened. “What on earth are you sitting there for?” he -asked. - -“Just dreaming. But you mustn’t think I’m an idler, Mr. Pithey. Even Pan -sleeps at this hour.” - -Her smile deepened, and Mr. Pithey softened still more. He stepped out -of the dust into the grass, passing as he did so into a more friendly -attitude. - -“Pan?—that’s a queer name for a baby!” he said. - -The smile became just the softest thing in laughs. “Well, his proper -name is Bertram Aurelius. But Pan——” She held Bertram Aurelius up the -while he chuckled at her, striving to fit his hand into his mouth. “Look -at his blue eyes, and his little pointed ears, and his head of red down. -Really Pan suits him much better.” - -“Um,” said Mr. Pithey. “Bertram is a good sensible name for a boy, like -my own, and not too common. Better stick to that. So you’ve started your -cottages. Well, you remember what I told you. Don’t you think they’re -going to pay, because they won’t.” - -“Oh yes, they’ll pay,” said Ruth. “Why, of course they’ll pay!” There -was mischief in her eye. - -“Now look here,” said Mr. Pithey heavily. “It’s no good talking to a -woman; it’s in at one ear and out of the other. But if you’ll walk up to -the house with me, I’ll put it down in black and white. The return -you’ll get for your money——” - -“Oh, money!” interrupted Ruth. “I wasn’t thinking of money.” - -Mr. Pithey heeled over, as it were, like a ship brought up when sailing -full before the wind. - -“If it’s damned rotten sentiment you’re after,” he exclaimed, “well you -can take my word for it _that_ doesn’t pay either!” - -Ruth looked up at him as he stood over her, a very wrathfully indignant -immaculate, pale yellow pig indeed. She thought of his millions, and the -power they wielded and then of the power they might wield if backed by -any imagination. - -“Mr. Pithey,” she said, and her voice was very low, and it had in it the -sound of many waters which had gone over her soul, “I have seen our dead -men lie in rows, many hundreds, through the dark night, waiting till the -dawn for burial; they did not ask if it paid.” - -Mr. Pithey shuffled with his big feet in the grass. “That’s different,” -he said, but his little sharp eyes fell. “I should have gone myself, but -my business was of national importance, as of course you know. Yes, -that’s different. That’s different.” He seemed to find satisfaction in -the words. He eyed Ruth again with equanimity. “Of course you ladies -don’t understand, but you can’t bring sentiment into business.” - -He puffed himself out. Again the phrase pleased. - -Ruth rose to her feet. Even to her broad charity he had become -oppressively obnoxious. - -“How much did you offer me for Thorpe?” she asked suddenly. - -Mr. Pithey’s eyes snapped. “Twenty-five per cent. on your money,” he -said, “or I might even go a bit higher as you’re a lady.” - -Ruth tossed Bertram Aurelius over her shoulder, laughing. - -“Do you know what has made Thorpe the gem it is?” she asked. “Why, -sentiment! Unless you have some to spend on it, it wouldn’t pay you to -buy.” - -She nodded a farewell and left him with a strangled “damn” on his lips. -He yearned after Thorpe. As a pleasure farm for himself it left little -to be desired. - -He expressed his feelings to Mrs. Pithey, who, coming along presently in -her Rolls-Royce, with the two elder children in their best clothes, -picked him out of the dust and took him home to tea. - -“Why, it must have been her I passed just now!” she exclaimed. “There -now, if I didn’t think it was just a common woman, and never bowed!” - -“A good thing too!” said Mr. Pithey majestically. And he said to Mrs. -Pithey all the things he would have said to Miss Seer if she had given -him a chance. - -Undisturbed by the omission, Ruth went home across the flowered fields, -but Mr. Pithey himself oppressed her. It seemed grossly unfit, somehow, -that the life sacrifice of those dead boys should result in benefit, -material benefit at any rate, to the Pitheys of the world; it shocked -even one’s sense of decency. - -But Bertram Aurelius’s head was very soft against her throat as he -dropped into sleep. The sun was very warm, the almond and honey scent of -gorse was very sweet. Presently she unruffled, and began to sing the -song which seemed to her to belong especially to Thorpe: - - “When I have reached my journey’s end - And I am dead and free, - I pray that God will let me go - Along the flowered fields I know - That look towards the sea.” - -So she came to the stile which led to the buttercup field, crimson and -white now with sorrel and ox-eyed daisies. And standing among the -flowers was a slim figure, the figure of a woman dressed all in white. -Ruth stopped on the stile to look. It was so beautiful in poise and -outline, it gave her that little delightful shock of joy which only -beauty gives. Backed by the blue sky, bathed in the broad afternoon -sunlight, it was worthy even of her flower fields. Very still the figure -stood, gazing across those fields that “looked towards the sea,” and -just as still, in a breathless pause, Ruth stood and watched and -wondered. - -For gradually she became aware of a strange appearance as of fire -surrounding the slim figure. It was of oval shape, vivid scarlet in -colour, deepening at the base. Other colours there were in the oval, but -the fiery glow of the red drowned them into insignificance. Ruth shaded -her eyes with her disengaged hand, suspecting some illusion of light, -but the oval held its shape under the steady scrutiny, and with a little -gasp she realized that she was looking at that which the ordinary -physical sight does not reveal. Vague memories of things read in old -books out of Raphael Goltz’s library, descriptions of the coloured auric -egg which, invisible to the human eye, surrounds all living forms, raced -hurriedly through her mind, but she had read of them more with curiosity -than with any thought that they would ever come within the boundary of -her own consciousness. As she realized what the phenomenon was, a -growing shrinking from it, a sense of horror, a feeling that there was -something sinister, threatening, in the fiery implacable red of the -appearance, came over her like a wave. She was glad of Bertram -Aurelius’s warm little body against her own, and found she was fighting -a desire to turn back and retrace her steps. A desire so wholly absurd -on the face of it, that she shook herself together and resolutely moved -forward. As she did so, the white figure moved too, coming down the -slope of the field to meet her, and as it came the scarlet oval faded, -flickered, and, so far as Ruth was concerned, seemed to go out. The -ordinary everyday things of life came back with a curious dislocating -jerk, and she found herself looking into a very wonderful pair of -golden-brown eyes set in short, but oddly thick, black lashes, and a -light high voice spoke, a voice with sudden bell-like cadences in it, so -often heard in the voice of French women. It was as attractive as all -the rest of Violet Riversley’s physical equipment. - -“Is it Miss Seer? May I introduce myself? I expect as Roger North’s -daughter will be simplest,” she said, holding out her hand “Father -dropped me here on his way to Fairbridge with Lady Condor. They are both -calling here later to see you and pick me up, also hoping for tea, -father told me to say. Your maid told me I should find you if I came -down this way. Do you mind that I have picked some of your moon daisies? -There are none fine as grow in this field.” - -“No, no, of course not,” Ruth half stammered, realizing for the first -time that she carried a sheaf of daisies in the bend of her arm. Why, -everything would have been hers but for the chance of war. This was the -woman who was to have married Dick Carey. And somehow, all at once, Ruth -knew that this meeting was not the ordinary everyday occurrence such -meetings mostly are. It had a meaning, a purpose of its own. She felt a -sudden shrinking of some inner sense, even as she had just now felt a -physical shrinking. She wanted to back out of something, she knew not -what, just as she had had that ridiculous desire just now to turn round -and go the other way. And yet, standing staring at her in this stupid -dumb way, she did not dislike Violet Riversley; far from it. She was -distinctly attracted by her, and her beauty drew Ruth like a charm. - -It seemed quite a long time before she heard her own voice saying, -“Please pick—take—anything you like.” - -“Thanks ever so much,” said Mrs. Riversley. She had turned to walk up -the path. “I’m just like a child. I always want to pick flowers when I -see them, and they seem to grow here better than anywhere else I know. -Mr. Carey used to say he had squared the Flower Elementals.” - -She spoke the name quite simply and casually, while Ruth was conscious -of a ridiculous feeling of shyness. - -“I think it quite likely,” she answered. “Look at the wisteria.” They -had reached the ridge of the slope and could see where the flowered -fields merged into the garden proper. “All along the top of the wall, -against the blue. I have never seen any so wonderful.” - -It was amazingly wonderful, but Mrs. Riversley looked at it without any -apparent pleasure. - -“It is ever so good of you to let me come and invade you in this -informal way,” she said, with her little gracious social manner. “Father -said he was sure you would not mind. And you won’t let me interrupt you, -will you? You work on the farm yourself, don’t you? It is not just a -pretence of farming with you.” - -“I was just going to milk,” said Ruth, smiling. “We are one hand short -to-day, so if you won’t mind my leaving you till teatime, and you will -just do exactly what you like, and pick anything you like——” - -Then Violet Riversley did, for her, an unusual thing. She slipped her -hand into Ruth’s, as a shy, rather lonely child might have done. It was -one of the moments when she was irresistible. - -“Let me come with you and watch,” she said. “And why do you carry that -big baby about? Is it a good work?” - -“He’s the farm baby,” said Ruth, her eyes twinkling. “And we found him -under a gooseberry-bush.” - -They had reached the terrace, and the pigeons, just awake from their -midday slumber on the sun-baked roof, came tumbling down, fluttering -round Ruth, searching the big pockets of her overall for corn, while -Bertram Aurelius vainly strove to catch a wing or tail. - -Mrs. Riversley stood at a little distance. “My goodness, they are tame,” -she exclaimed, as the pretty chase for the hidden food went on. “Just as -tame as they were with——” She stopped and looked round her. “It is -extraordinary how little the place has changed—and it’s not pretending -either—it really is just the same here. The same old comfortable at-home -feeling. Did you know Mr. Carey by any chance? No, I suppose not. But -it’s funny—I have something the same feeling with you I always had with -him, and with no one else ever in the world. You rest me—you do me -good—you are something cool on a hot day. You know, father felt it too, -and he is not given to feelings. Do get rid of that great fat lump. Put -him back under his gooseberry-tree. Then we will go milking.” She -advanced on Bertram Aurelius threateningly. “Where _does_ he go?” - -Ruth broke into laughter. “He will go in the manger on the hay, or -anywhere else that comes handy. Or—but wait a minute—here come the -dogs.” - -Sarah and Selina were proceeding decorously up the path from the front -gate. To all appearances they had been taking a little gentle exercise. -There was an air of meekness, an engaging innocence, about them which, -to those who knew them, told its own tale. They had undoubtedly been up -to mischief. - -“The dogs?” queried Mrs. Riversley. - -“They will look after him,” explained Ruth. - -She went into the house and brought out a small wooden cradle on -rockers. In this she arranged Bertram Aurelius, who took the change with -his usual philosophy, waved his bare pink legs with vigour, and strove -to catch the sunbeams flickering through the jasmine leaves. The little -dogs sat side by side, very alert and full of responsibility. - -It was a picture full of charm, but Mrs. Riversley held herself aloof, -though she watched the swift neat movement of Ruth’s work-worn hands -with interest until she joined her. - -Then she became for the next half-hour an entirely delightful companion, -talking gaily in her pretty cadenced voice, flitting here and there like -some white bird about the big fragrant cowshed, eager with the impulsive -eagerness of a child to show that she too knew how to milk. Dick had -taught her. She spoke of him frequently and without self-consciousness. -She told Ruth many things that interested her to know. And gradually the -curious shell of hardness, that apparent want of sympathy with all the -beautiful teeming life of the farm disappeared. She milked, to Ruth’s -astonishment, well and deftly. She understood much about chicken and -pigs. She held the down-soft yellow ducklings in her shapely hands, and -broke into open enthusiasm over the little white kid who ran with the -herd. - -“I wonder,” she said, when the milking was over and Ruth suggested tea, -“I wonder if by any chance our ‘house on the wall’ is still there?” - -“You mean where the kitchen garden wall is built out to meet the -beech-tree, and the branches are like three seats, the highest one in -the middle, and there are some shelves?” - -“Yes—yes! and you can see all round and no one can see you. Dick built -it for us when we were children—Fred, and I, and the Condor boys. We -were always here. We played at keeping house up there, and Dick used to -tell us stories about all the animals—there was one about a mouse family -too—and about the Elementals. The Water Elementals, who took care of the -river, and who brought the rain, and the dew in the early summer -mornings; they were all like silver gossamer and white foam. And the -Earth Elementals, who looked after the flowers’ food; and the Elementals -of Fire.” - -She stopped suddenly and shivered. They were crossing a corner of the -orchard on their way to the kitchen garden, and, to Ruth’s astonishment, -she looked round her with something like fear in her eyes. - -“Did you feel it get colder, quite cold,” she said, “as we crossed the -footpath just there?” - -“I believe it did, now you say so,” said Ruth. “You get those funny -bands of colder air sometimes. The ground dips too, under those -apple-trees.” - -Violet shivered again. She looked at the apple trees and the odd look of -fear in her eyes deepened. “Has anyone ever spoken to you of a man -called von Schäde, a German, who used to stay here?” she asked. - -“No,” said Ruth, and wondered. - -“He asked me to marry him, just over there, under that biggest tree. It -was covered with blossom then, and there were white butterflies about. -Oh, he frightened me!” Her voice rose in a little cry. “He frightened -me. I hate to think of it even now. I felt as if he could make me do it, -whether I wanted to or no. He kissed me—like no one had ever kissed me -before—I could have killed him, I hated him so. But even then I was -afraid he might make me do it. I was afraid. I would not see him again -alone, and I never felt really safe till I was engaged to Dick, and even -then”—her voice dropped very low—“I was glad when Karl was killed. Do -you think it was very horrid of me? I couldn’t help it. Sometimes, even -now, I dream in the night that he has never died, that he has come back -and can make me do what he likes.” She shuddered. “I have to shake -myself quite wide awake before I know it is only a beastly dream. And I -haven’t Dick now any more.” - -She looked back over her shoulder and shivered again. - -“You are sure that cold feeling was just quite ordinary?” - -“Why, yes,” said Ruth. “What should it be?” - -“I don’t know. Let us get to the house on the wall.” - -She hurried on, and her slender feet in white went up the rough steps as -one at home. She stood for a few moments and looked round, while the old -memories of what seemed like another life came thronging back. Then she -climbed up into the middle seat, and sat there, gathering herself -together as a child does when it is concentrating deeply. In the -flickering shadow of the leaves above and around, her face looked wan, -mysterious almost, her strange golden eyes curiously alive, yet gazing, -it seemed, into another world. - -Her seat in the circle looked out across the great endless valley -stretching away to the west. Immediately below was the big hay field, -ready now for cutting. It fell in a gentle slope to the river, which, -diving under the roadway by the front gate, curved round the garden, and -broke out into a miniature pond at the bottom of the field, before it -vanished among the bracken where the territory of Thorpe ended and the -great beautiful forest of the Condor estate commenced. In the pond were -water-lilies, rose-coloured and white, and tall brown bulrushes, all in -their season of perfection. Most noticeable in the noble stretch of -landscape beyond was a clump of beech-trees on the ridge of the near -side of the valley, lifted up sheer against the height of the sky. They -had caught for many years the full blast of the winds coming up from the -north-east, and only the topmost branches survived, leaving their -straight exquisite trunks bare. To-day, standing high above the blue -distances, in the shimmering light and heat, they had about them more -than usual of majesty and mystery. - -Violet Riversley sat very still. The myriads of summer leaves rustled -softly; here and there a bird sang. Presently she began to speak, even -as another bird might have begun to sing. - -“And it takes a long time to get the water-lilies to grow, because they -won’t come anywhere until they are sure you really love them, not just -want them for show. It’s the same with the Madonna lilies. And they -never make mistakes. You’ve got really to love them. And the -water-lilies like bulrushes close at hand for a bodyguard, because the -water-lilies are of royal birth. The Water Elementals told Dick all -this. And so the lilies grew, and I loved the pink ones best, but he -loved the white. And the tops of the beech-trees with the long trunks -are where the Earth Elementals say their prayers; they choose trees like -that so that the Earth children cannot climb up and disturb them. If you -disturb them when they are saying their prayers they get cross, and then -the flowers come all wrong. Red roses with a green spike in their -hearts, and the lime flowers covered with black. And all that shimmery -heat is like it is in the desert, all like that and no green. Only here -and there water in a grove of palm-trees. And there is the wood where -the Winds live. They will all be at home to-day, resting.” - -Ruth held her breath while she listened, and then the voice fell very -softly into silence. And quite suddenly there came a sudden shower of -big soft tears. They made blurred marks on the lustrous white skin, and -she looked at Ruth with dim wet eyes like a child who had been naughty. - -Presently she got up and came and sat down on the top of the wall facing -the garden. - -“Come and sit here too,” she said, patting the bricks beside her. “It’s -quite comfy if you put your heels back into the steps. There’s just room -for two. We used to watch for Dick coming home from here—I and Fred and -the eldest Condor boy. He was killed at Messines—and little Teddy -Rawson, the Vicar’s son—he was afraid of almost everything—mice and -ferrets—just like a girl—and he died a hero’s death at Gallipoli. And -Sybil Rawson—she went as a nurse to Salonica, and was torpedoed coming -home, and drowned. Only Fred and I left, and the two youngest Condors.” - -Again she fell on silence, and again Ruth held her breath. She feared -that any word of hers might break the spell of this return to the past -days which were like another life. - -“The flowers grow for you too. They are just as wonderful as ever,” Mrs. -Riversley went on again, after a little while. “And you have got a blue -border. Delphinium, anchusa, love-in-the-mist, and the nemophila—all of -them. I wonder how you came to think of that?” - -“There were some of the plants still left, and I—somehow I think I -guessed.” - -“And the birds? Are they still as tame?” - -“They were shy at first, but they are beginning to come back.” - -“The robins used to fly in and out of the house. And even the swallow -and kingfishers used to come quite close to Dick. If I was with him I -had to be quite still for a long time before they would come.” - -Ruth’s face lighted with a sudden thought. “The kingfishers?” she said. - -“They are the shyest of all birds. I suppose we humans have always tried -to catch and kill them for their plumage. Dick hated that sort of -thing.” Her face grew hard and the strange fire burnt up again in her -eyes. “And then he was shot down himself—shot down as we shoot any bird -or beast.” - -She stopped suddenly, the words choked back in her throat, as the Condor -car came over the bridge and pulled up at the gate. - -Then she slipped down from the wall and stood looking up at Ruth. “Thank -you for letting me go round with you—and talk. It’s been good.” She -pushed up the heavy wave of hair from her forehead under her -wide-brimmed hat. “It’s taken me back for a little, to what life used to -be, from what I am to what I was. And now let us go and pick up all the -things Lady Condor will drop.” - -Lady Condor’s cheerful chatter was already with them. - -“Now have I got everything? Yes—no—where is my handkerchief? Did I put -it into the pocket? The parcels can all stay. No one will touch them. -Oh, there it is! Thank you, Roger.” - -She began to ascend the path, shedding a blue chiffon scarf, which North -retrieved as he followed her. - -“Oh, there you are, Violet! And this is Seer? An unpardonably late call, -but I have been taking the chair at a meeting to discuss the Women’s -Victory Memorial. We discussed for hours—the weirdest ideas! And the -heat! At the Town Hall? Yes. Why are town halls and hospitals always -hideous? There can’t be any necessity for it. Tea indoors, out of the -sun? How nice! I never do like tea out-of-doors myself really, though -sometimes I pretend to. And the dear old room—almost just like it used -to be. I am glad, though it makes me want to cry. Yes. But where was I? -Oh yes, the weirdest ideas. Even a crematorium was suggested. No, I am -not inventing, dear Violet. The good lady had lost her husband and was -obliged to take him all the way to Woking. Most trying, of course! I was -really sorry for her. But seemed so odd for a Victory Memorial. So we -settled on a maternity home, a quite excellent idea. Trenching on the -improper, of course. It brought the fact of babies coming into the world -into such a very concrete form as it were. But so necessary just now—and -that they should have every chance. So even the dear ladies who attend -St. Christopher’s Church agreed. We parted in the utmost harmony. So -pleasant—and so unusual!” - -“And have you settled on a War Memorial?” asked North, rescuing her -handkerchief from Selina’s clutches. - -“Not yet! And I see no prospect—we are still talking. We _shall_ until -some adventurous spirit among us says, ‘Well, something must be _done_.’ -Then we shall go the way of least resistance—always so safe and so -unoriginal. Another of those delightful sandwiches, please. Your own -Devonshire cream, of course. Why can’t my cook make Devonshire cream? -But where was I? Oh yes—the War Memorial. Then we shall erect an -artistically offensive monument. Who invented that word, I wonder. And -did the word come from the monstrosity, or after? But it is so -descriptive of what it is. Yes. And what is your idea of a good -memorial, Miss Seer?” - -“I have only one idea at present,” said Ruth, smiling. “And that is -cottages.” - -“Quite a good one too,” said North. “Why hasn’t anyone thought of it?” - -“Much too obvious, my dear,” exclaimed Lady Condor. “The people are -shrieking to be housed, so we shall build them a library—yes.” - -“And the Pithians will build themselves winter gardens and -billiard-rooms and marble swimming-baths,” said Mrs. Riversley. - -“Pithians!” exclaimed Lady Condor. “Who was it thanked someone else for -a word! Thank you, dear Violet. Did I invent it myself the other day? -How clever of me! Pithians—yes. Democracy will kill privilege as it did -in France, but the Pithians arise on our ashes—or should it be Phœnix? I -am getting dreadfully muddled—it comes from talking too much. Roger, why -don’t you talk, instead of letting me monopolize Miss Seer and all the -conversation?” - -“My dear lady, the Pithian glory is but for a moment. We are all -converging to the same heap of ashes with amazing velocity, and what -will arise from those ashes you must ask a wiser man than I.” - -“You think seriously of the outlook?” asked Ruth. - -North helped himself to more bread-and-butter. “I don’t think,” he said. -“It won’t bear thinking of—when you can do nothing.” - -Then Lady Condor, for once, put a straight question without -continuation. - -“What do you think of things?” she asked, looking at Ruth. - -The silence grew, in some odd way, tense, while they all waited for the -answer. It surprised North to find that he was waiting for it with -something which distinctly approached interest. - -Ruth Seer’s face looked troubled for a moment, and the colour came -sweeping into it like a flood, and left her very white. When she spoke -she felt as if the words came, dragged with difficulty, from some -unknown consciousness. And though the words she spoke, undoubtedly she -felt to be true, were a testimony of her own faith, yet she had only -that moment known the truth she was stating. - -“I believe,” she said slowly, haltingly, but with a strange intensity of -conviction, “I believe we are not alone. Things are in the hands of the -men who have given their lives so that things should be -different—better. Their influence is here—all about us. They, with added -knowledge—guide—through our darkness. It is their great reward.” - -There was another silence, and Ruth flushed again painfully, under the -scrutiny of three pairs of eyes. “Where did you get that idea from?” -asked Lady Condor. - -“I don’t know,” she answered, then amended her statement. “At least, I -am not sure. But I believe it is true.” - -“I like it,” announced her Ladyship. “I like it enormously—yes—quite -enormously. My poor dear Hartley! He was so keen on everything, so -interested in _this_ old world. He didn’t want rest in heaven—at -twenty-four. No—is it likely? And _les choses ne vont pas si vite_. It -isn’t in the nature of things they should. Nature hasn’t great big gaps -like that with no sense in them. I don’t know, my dear, if _I’m_ talking -sense, but I know what I mean, and I’m sure it’s right. Yes—I like your -idea.” - -“But that does not make it true. Some people can believe anything they -want to. I can’t.” Mrs. Riversley moved impatiently from her seat. “All -we know is, they are gone, so far as we are concerned; we cannot see or -touch or hold them any more. Why do you discuss and imagine? They are -gone.” - -Lady Condor shrank together at the words. The wonderful vitality which -enabled her to defy age and satiety failed for the moment. She looked -old and piteous. - -“Yes,” she said, “they are gone.” She looked at North. “And you can tell -us nothing—with all your learning—with all your discoveries. And the -parsons talk of faith and hope. Yes. But we have lost our first-borns.” - -North did not answer. He gathered her various belongings and put them in -her lap. “There are one or two things I have to do to the car,” he said. - -The door opened on to a clamour of dogs. Sarah and Selina, shrill with -welcome, barked in chorus around Larry, who appeared to have just -arrived. “Now what the devil——” muttered North to himself, while Larry -smote him with a feathered paw, and begged with wistful eyes for pardon. - -Ruth sat very late out on her terrace that night. The heavens were dark, -but full of stars. Their radiance filled all space. Who and what was it -had spoken those words this afternoon, for neither the thought nor the -words had been her own? She believed it was a true thought; something -deeper than brain or understanding knew it was true. And Ruth Seer sat -and prayed. Was she on the threshold of that Open Doorway, which in all -ages men have sought and sought in vain? Had she somehow stumbled on -something vast and beyond all measure valuable? She knew how valuable, -she had seen the dead men lie in thousands waiting burial, and heard -with her soul the tears of their women. Gone, as Violet Riversley said, -out of sight, or touch, or sound. And yet surely a communion deeper and -fuller than sight, or touch, or hold, had sprung up, was growing, -between herself and one of those dead men. A man unknown to her on this -physical plane. That was the crowning wonder of this wonderful thing -which was happening. How had it come about? What did it mean? And it was -no thing apart from this earthly life, from the little daily round. It -was no other world. - -The night deepened. A magic of starlight lay on the farm, on the dull -silver of the stream, over the violet distances. The little farm she -loved, with all its sleeping creatures, belonged to the wonderful whole, -the great space, the immensity of light, the glory and the mystery. - -The beauty of it all was like a draught of wine, was like a silver -sword, was like a harp of gold. - -And suddenly a nightingale began to sing. A small brown-feathered thing -with that wonder of sound in its tiny throat. And then it came. -Faith—Hope—they cannot pass the open door—only Love. And love not of one -to another, however deep, however true, but love of the universal whole, -that love which she and Dick Carey had in common, focused as it were on -Thorpe. That was the password, that the key, that the communion between -the living and the dead which she had found. - -And Larry, lying at her feet, for North had let him stay, waved a -slow-moving tail, and dreamed, content. - -Up above, on the hill, the lights of the great Pithian mansion, with all -it symbolized, went out one by one, and Ruth, who loved her England, was -not afraid. - -A deep sense of great responsibility remained. If that which she had -sensed was really so, and she had neither then nor at any later time any -doubt of it, what had They, with their wider knowledge, the great -advance in evolution which they who had made the supreme gift of all -they had on this physical plane must surely have attained, what had They -to build the new order with save those who were left? Living stones for -the Great New Temple never made with hands. - -The glory of it touched Ruth as with a sudden blaze of light. The -thought was like a bugle call. To work with for them still. She had only -herself to offer. One small stone to shape for use, to make as perfect -as might be. She offered it under the starlit heavens with all her -heart. Life took on a new and more beautiful meaning, any work of -service a deeper, fuller joy. It was still for, and with, Them. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -It was a few days later that Mr. Fothersley, as was his frequent custom, -emerged from his front door at eleven o’clock, on his way to the post. -In his left hand he carried a sheaf of letters for the twelve o’clock -post out. As he often said, it made “an object for his morning stroll.” -Not that Mr. Fothersley ever really strolled. It would have been a -physical impossibility. His little plump legs always trotted. They -trotted now along the immaculate gravel drive which curved between two -wide strips of smooth mown sward. On the right hand the grass merged -into a magnificent grove of beech-trees, on the left it was fenced by a -neat iron railing, dividing it from what the house agent describes as -finely timbered park-land. Behind him, with all its sun-blinds down, the -grey old house slept serenely in the sunshine. The parterres were -brilliant with calceolaria, geranium, and heliotrope. Mr. Fothersley -rather prided himself on an early Victorian taste in gardening, and his -herbaceous borders, very lovely though they were, dwelt in the kitchen -garden region. - -Leigh Manor had belonged to Mr. Fothersley from the day of his birth, -which occurred two months after the death of his father. That gentleman -had married late in life for the sole and avowed purpose of providing -his estate with an heir, of which purpose his son most cordially -approved. At the same time he had never seen his way to go so far -himself. The Fothersleys were not a marrying family. His mother, a -colourless person, of irreproachable lineage, and a view of life which -contemplated only two aspects, the comfortable and the uncomfortable, -had lived long enough to see him well into the forties, by which time he -was as skillful as she had been in the management of an establishment. -Everything continued to run in the same perfect order, and Mr. -Fothersley felt no more inclined than during her lifetime to disturb the -smooth current of his pleasant life by embarking on the very uncertain -adventure of matrimony. On this particular morning he paused outside his -own gate to look at the view—almost the same view that was obtainable -from the “house on the wall” at Thorpe Farm. Ever since he was a small -child, Mr. Fothersley could remember taking visitors to see “our view,” -and he had, at an early age, esteemed it unfortunate that none so good -was to be obtained from the grounds of Leigh Manor. He looked out over -the quiet scene. The great beautiful valley, with the suggestion only of -the sea beyond, the dotted farmsteads, with here and there some noble -old mansion like his own secluded among its trees, and, at his feet, -little Mentmore village, with its grey church tower, half hidden in the -hollow. It was typical of all he held most dearly. A symbol of the -well-ordered ease and superiority of his position, of the things which -were indeed, though unconsciously, Mr. Fothersley’s religion. - -In the grey church his forbears had, like himself, sat with their peers, -in the front pews, while their dependents had herded discreetly at the -back behind the pillars. In these eminently picturesque cottages, of two -or three rooms, dwelt families who, he had always taken more or less for -granted, regarded him and his with a mixture of respect and reverence, -just touched—only touched—with awe. On the whole most worthy and -respectable people. Mr. Fothersley was generous to them out of his -superabundance. He was indeed attached to them; and although Mr. -Fothersley prided himself on moving with the times, it was plain that -any alteration in the admirable state of things existing in Mentmore -would not only be a mistake, but absolutely wrong. - -Therefore, on this fine June morning, Mr. Fothersley was perturbed. The -knowledge that Mr. Pithey dwelt in the noble grey stone house on the -opposite hill, in the place of his old friend, Helford Rose, spoilt “his -view” for him. And, for the first time, too, one of Ruth Seer’s new -cottages had become visible just below his own pasture fields. The -workmen were putting on the roof. It was to Mr. Fothersley an unseemly -sight in Mentmore. Ruth had done her best, she had spent both time and -money in securing material that would not spoil the harmony or character -of the little village, but as Mr. Fothersley had said, it was the thin -end of the wedge. - -What was to prevent Mr. Pithey from scattering some horrible epidemic of -hideous utilitarian domiciles broadcast over his wide estate? Mr. -Fothersley shuddered, and remembered with thankfulness that they were -not at present a paying proposition. - -Still, he wished Miss Seer had not these queer manias. Not that he -disliked her—far from it. Indeed, the little basket of his special early -strawberries, poised in his right hand, was on its way to her. And he -had even traced a distant cousinship with her on the Courthope side. -Since what was now familiarly known in his set as the Pithian Invasion -he considered her a distinct asset at Thorpe. - -“I would not have had old Dick’s place vulgarized for a good deal,” he -said to himself as he descended the hill. “And I know even he did talk -of building some cottages before the war, poor dear fellow.” - -All the same, he did not feel in his usual spirits, and presently, to -add to his discomfort, he passed the local sweep, window cleaner, and -generally handy man, who, instead of touching his hat as of old, nodded -a cheery, “Good-morning, Mr. Fothersley! Nice weather,” to him. - -Mr. Fothersley did not like it. Most distinctly it annoyed him! It had -been one thing to go and see Mankelow when he was wounded, and a patient -in the local V.A.D., and make a considerable fuss over him, but that, as -Mr. Pithey was fond of saying, “was different.” It was decidedly -presuming on it for Mankelow to treat him in that “Hail fellow, well -met” way. - -This brought to Mr. Fothersley’s mind the threatening strikes among the -miners, transport workers, and what Mr. Fothersley vaguely designated as -“those sort of people.” He wondered what would happen if all the sweeps -went on strike. It was a most dangerous thing to light fires with a -large accumulation of soot up the chimney—most dangerous. - -At this moment he nearly collided with Ruth Seer, as she came swiftly -round the Post Office corner. - -They both stopped, laughed, and apologized. - -“I was just on my way to you with some of our early strawberries,” said -Mr. Fothersley, exposing a corner of the contents of his basket. - -“How very good of you!” exclaimed Ruth. “And I do love them. Will you -wait for me one moment? I am going on my way to send a telegram to Mr. -North.” - -Now curiosity was the most prominent trait in Mr. Fothersley’s funny -little character, and it was the naked and unashamed curiosity of the -small child. It might almost be looked on as a virtue turned inside out, -so real and keen was his interest in his neighbors’ affairs, an interest -often followed by sympathy and help. - -“Telegraphing to North!” he exclaimed. “What about?” - -No inhabitant of any length of time would have been in the least -astonished, but Ruth, for a moment or two taken thoroughly aback, simply -stared at him. Then, somewhat late in the day, it began to dawn on her -that her telegram to Roger North might possibly demand an explanation, -and one she had no intentions of giving. - -“Telegraphing to North? What about?” repeated Mr. Fothersley, his little -pink face beaming with kindly interest. - -The whole truth being out of the question, there was nothing for it but -as much as possible. - -“I want to see him to ask his opinion on a matter of importance,” said -Ruth. - -Astonishment mingled with the curiosity on Mr. Fothersley’s speaking -countenance. Many things flashed through his mind in the minute while he -and Ruth again stared at each other, the most prominent being the tongue -of the Postmistress and Mrs. North’s fiery jealousy. - -Mr. Fothersley could remember terrible times, when it had been aroused -by lesser matters than this telegram, aroused to such an extent that all -Mentmore had become aware of it, and much unnecessary dirty linen washed -in public before the storm subsided. - -North himself on these occasions was, in Mr. Fothersley’s language, -difficult, most difficult. He either teased his wife unmercifully, or -lost his temper and used bad language. The whole affair was always, -again in Mr. Fothersley’s language, “regrettable, most regrettable,” -while the groundwork of the whole matter was, that women bored North far -more than they ever amused him, so that if he did talk to one it was -noticeable. - -It was quite evident to Mr. Fothersley that Miss Seer was wholly -unconscious of anything unusual in her action. This surprised him, for -he had understood she had been a companion, and a companion’s knowledge -of such things, as a rule, passes belief. - -Ruth made a movement to pass on, the fatal document in her hand. But it -was one of those moments when Mr. Fothersley was supreme. - -“My dear lady,” he exclaimed, “I am going to Westwood so soon as I have -deposited my little offering on your doorstep. Allow me to take the -message for you.” - -With a deft movement the paper was in his possession, was neatly folded -and placed in safety in his waistcoat pocket. His little plump figure -turned, plainly prepared to escort her back to Thorpe. - -“The telegram will explain itself?” he asked, “or shall I give any -message?” - -“I want to consult him about some happenings on the farm,” answered -Ruth. “Things I should like to talk over with him with as little delay -as possible. Mr. North has been very kind, and, I think takes a real -interest in Thorpe.” - -“No doubt. No doubt.” Mr. Fothersley acquiesced cordially. “He was poor -Carey’s most intimate friend. Though indeed we were all his friends. A -most lovable fellow. Indeed, he was almost too kind-hearted. Anyone -could take him in—and did!” added Mr. Fothersley, with warmth. “There -was a German fellow, very pleasant, I own, to meet, who used to stay -with him quite a lot at one time. I always felt how, if they had invaded -England, he would have known every inch of the country round here, for -no doubt he took notes of everything, as they always did. Funnily -enough, he was taken prisoner badly wounded by Dick’s own regiment, and -died at the clearing station, before they could get him to a hospital.” - -Ruth looked at the sunlit peace of the farm, for they had reached the -gate. She remembered what Violet Riversley had told her. And yet Dick -Carey had cared for this man. - -“And they had parted here as friends,” she said. - -“I believe Dick was quite cut up about it,” said Mr. Fothersley. “Very -odd. But poor dear Dick was odd! No sense of proportion, you know!” - -This was a favourite saying of both Mr. Fothersley’s and Mrs. North’s. -It is doubtful if either of them quite knew what they meant by it, but -it sounded well. - -Mr. Fothersley repeated it over again, leaning with his arms on the -gate. “No sense of proportion. A lovable fellow though, most lovable. -Many’s the time we’ve stood here, just as you and I are standing, -watching his birds. You have the bird pool still, I see.” Mr. Fothersley -fumbled for his glasses. “Yes, and those wretched little blue-tits -everywhere—the worst offenders in the garden. Even the blossom is not -safe from them. Madness to encourage them with coconuts and bacon-rind. -But as I said, poor Dick——” - -By this time Mr. Fothersley had his glasses firmly planted across the -bridge of his nose. He could see the pool plainly, and in addition to -several blue-tits, two round cherub faces, open-mouthed, very still, -hanging over the edge of the bank. - -“Good heavens! What are those?” he exclaimed. - -“Only two small visitors of mine,” said Ruth, smiling. “It is quite -wonderful how still they have learnt to be to watch the birds. They live -in Blackwall Tenements, and their only playground there is a strip of -pavement under a dust shoot.” - -“Oh!” said Mr. Fothersley dubiously. “Blackwall. That is somewhere in -the City.” - -He was interrupted by a shrill, excited, plainly female voice on its -topmost note. - -“Oh, Tommy! ’e’s caught a f’y!” - -The next moment every bird had gone, while the complete figures -belonging to the moon faces arose, as it were out of the ground. Both -wore knickers, both had short hair, but it was plainly the master male -who administered swift and primitive punishment. - -“There, you’ve done it again!” - -“I forgot—I——” Sobs, bitter and violent, stopped the lament. - -The boy pocketed his hands and moved off. - -“Jes’ like a woman,” he called over his shoulder. - -The other small figure followed him at a humble distance, wailing aloud -till both disappeared from view. - -Mr. Fothersley shuddered. - -“How can you bear it?” he asked, his little pink face really concerned. -“Even Dick——” - -“Stopped short at Germans,” Ruth ended for him. “Well, it has its -compensations. And after all, what _can_ one do? I know that playground -under the dust soot! And I have all this. One could not bear it, if one -didn’t have them down.” - -“How many?” asked Mr. Fothersley faintly. - -Ruth leant back against the gate and gave way to helpless laughter, -while Mr. Fothersley prodded holes in the bank with his stick and waited -with dignity till she should recover. He saw nothing to laugh at. - -“I beg your pardon,” said Ruth, hurriedly suppressing what she felt from -his manner was most unseemly mirth. “I only have two at a time,” she -added appeasingly. “And they are really very good on the whole.” - -“I should relegate them to the back garden,” said Mr. Fothersley -decisively. “I remember as a child even _I_ was never allowed to run -wild where I pleased. Good heavens! what is that noise?” He cocked an -attentive ear, as a sound, like nothing he had ever heard before, made -itself evident. - -At the same moment, over the crest of the lawn appeared a wonderful -procession. First came the small female figure in knickers, brandishing -in her right hand a crimson flag, while with the left she held a small -tin trumpet to her lips, with which at intervals she blew a breathless -note. The same which had attracted Mr. Fothersley’s attention. Then, -strapped into his go-cart, and positively smothered in flags and -flowers, came Bertram Aurelius. Finally, pushing the go-cart with -somewhat dangerous vigour, the small Lord of the Show. Around the -procession, leaping and barking, skirmished Sarah and Selina, while -beside the go-cart Larry padded sedately, snuffing the air delicately, -waving a stately tail. - -The procession circled the lawn at the full speed of the children’s -small legs, dropped over into the garden pathway and disappeared towards -the farmyard. - -Mr. Fothersley softened. The scene had been a pretty one. - -“Quite like one of the delightful illustrations in the children’s books -of to-day,” he said, smiling. “Please don’t think me unsympathetic, dear -lady. A love of children is one of the most beautiful traits in a -woman’s character, and philanthropy has also its due place. But do not -be carried away by too much enthusiasm. Do have, as I used to say to -poor Dick, a due sense of proportion. Otherwise you will only get -imposed upon, and do no good in the long run. Believe me, you have gone -quite far enough with these innovations, and do let it stop there before -you have cause for regret.” - -Mr. Fothersley paused and smiled, well pleased with the turning of his -phrases. Also he felt his advice was good. Ruth acquiesced with becoming -humility, aware only of a little running commentary which conveyed -nothing to her. Her mind was entirely absorbed with the fact that Larry -had accompanied the small procession which had so swiftly crossed their -line of vision and disappeared—Larry, who kept children severely in -their place as became a dignified gentleman of a certain age, and on -whom not even Selina’s wiliest enticement produced the smallest effect. - -“No good ever comes of moving people out of their natural surroundings,” -continued Mr. Fothersley, holding on his way with complete satisfaction. -“All men cannot be equal, and it only makes them discontented with the -state of life in which it has pleased God to place them. Personally I -believe also they are quite unable to appreciate better conditions. Why, -when——” - -And here, to the little man’s astonishment, Ruth suddenly, and very -vividly, turned on him, shaking a warning finger in front of his -startled nose. - -“Mr. Fothersley, if you tell me that old story about the chickens in the -bathroom, I warn you I am quite unable to bear it. I shall hold forth, -and either make you very cross with me or bore you to death. I have -lived amongst the very poor, and between your view of them and mine -there is a great gulf fixed. I know what you cannot know—their -sufferings, their endurance, their patience. I would have every child in -London down here if I could—so there! And they may love their squalor -and filth, as people here have said to me. It is all the home they have -ever known. It is the great indictment against our civilization.” - -Then she stopped and suddenly smiled at him, it was a smile that barred -offence. - -“There, you see! Don’t start me off, whatever you do!” - -Mr. Fothersley smiled back. “My dear lady, I admire your kindness of -heart. It is your lack of any sense of proportion——” - -It was at this moment that Mr. Pithey appeared, magnificent in a new -tweed knickerbocker suit of a tawny hue, with immaculate gaiters, brown -boots and gloves; a cap to match the suit, upon his head; the inevitable -cigar in his mouth; looking incongruous enough, between the wild rose -and honeysuckle hedges. - -To discover a couple of anything like marriageable age alone together, -in what he called “the lanes,” suggested one thing and one thing only to -Mr. Pithey’s mind. His manner assumed a terrible geniality. - -“Now don’t let me disturb you,” he said, waving a large newly gloved -hand. “Just a word with this lady, and I’m off.” He perpetrated a wink -that caused Mr. Fothersley to shut his eyes. “Two’s company and three’s -none, eh?” - -Mr. Fothersley opened his eyes and endeavoured to stare him down with -concentrated rage and disgust. But Mr. Pithey held on his way, -undisturbed. - -“Wonderful how you meet everybody in this little place! Just passed Lady -Condor. Jove! how that woman does cake her face with paint. At her age -too! What’s the use? Doesn’t worry me, but Mrs. Pithey disapproves of -that sort of thing root and branches.” - -If Mr. Fothersley could have called down fire from heaven and slain Mr. -Pithey at that moment, he would undoubtedly have done so; as it was, he -could only struggle impotently for words wherewith to convey to him some -sense of his insufferable impertinence. - -And words failed him. His little round face quivering with rage, he -stammered for a moment unintelligibly, making furious gestures with his -disengaged hand at the astonished Mr. Pithey. Finally he turned his back -and thrust the basket of strawberries into Ruth’s hand. - -“Please send the basket back at your convenience, Miss Seer,” he said. -Even in that moment he did not forget the importance of the return of -one of the Leigh Manor baskets. “Good-morning.” - -“Touching little brute,” remarked Mr. Pithey cheerfully, gazing after -him. “What’s upset him now? He’ll have an apoplectic fit if he walks at -that rate in this heat, a man of his built and a hearty eater too!” - -Indeed poor Mr. Fothersley, by the time he reached the Manor, between -rage and nervousness, for who could say what thoughts Mr. Pithey’s -egregious remarks might not have given rise to in Miss Seer’s mind, was -in a very sad state. - -It was impossible to risk driving to Westwood in an open car. He ordered -the landaulette, closed. - -It was necessary to go because he had Miss Seer’s telegram to deliver. -Also the desire was strong upon him for the people of his own little -world, those who felt things as he felt them, and saw things even as he -saw them. He wanted to talk over the various small happenings of the -morning with an understanding spirit; the sweep’s familiarity, Miss -Seer’s odd activities, and last, but not least, Mr. Pithey’s hateful -facetiousness. Above all, though he hardly knew it himself, he wanted to -get with people who were the same as people had been before the war, to -get away from this continual obtrusion of an undercurrent of difference, -of change, which so disquieted him, and he wanted, badly wanted, comfort -and sympathy. - -The Norths were by themselves, and proportionately glad to see him. -Violet had left, on a sudden impulse, that morning, and fresh visitors -were not expected till the following week. - -The very atmosphere of Nita North comforted the little man. The -atmosphere of the great commonplace, the unimaginative, the egotistic. -An atmosphere untouched by the war. Peace descended on his troubled -spirit as he unfolded his table napkin and watched the butler, in the -very best manner of the best butler lift the silver cover in front of -Mrs. North from the golden-brown veal cutlets, each with its dainty roll -of fat bacon, Mr. Fothersley’s favourite luncheon dish, while North, who -had his moments of insight, said: - -“Some of the Steinberg Cabinet for Mr. Fothersley, Mansfield.” - -Indeed, both the Norths saw at once that Mr. Fothersley was not quite -himself, that he had been upset. - -It was impossible to tell the chief causes of his annoyance before the -servants, though, in an interval, he commented on the familiar behaviour -of the sweep, and his views as to the results of “the new independence” -on the working classes, and the danger of strikes. - -“I have no patience with this pandering to the lower classes,” said Mrs. -North. “They must be taught.” - -North, who was genuinely fond of little Mr. Fothersley, did not ask -“How?” as he had an irritating habit of doing when he heard his wife -enunciate this formula. - -Mr. Fothersley agreed. “Certainly, they must be taught.” - -He was distinctly soothed. The Steinberg Cabinet had not altered, indeed -it had gained in its power to minister. The objectionable feeling that -the foundations on which his world was built were quivering and breaking -up subsided into the background, and by the time the coffee came, and -the servants departed, he was his usual genial kindly little self, and -could even give a risible turn to his account of Mr. Pithey’s -impertinence. - -“I lost my temper and, I am afraid, practically gibbered at him with -rage,” he owned. “I was hardly dignified. But that I should live to hear -that Marion Condor is disapproved of by Mrs. Pithey!” - -“Insolent brute!” said Mrs. North, all unconscious that her language was -Pithian. “Can nobody put him in his place?” - -“He must be taught,” suggested North wickedly. But, though his wife shot -a doubtful glance at him, Mr. Fothersley took the suggestion in good -faith. - -“I quite agree with you, Roger. The question is, How? Unfortunately we -have all called.” - -“We could all cut him,” suggested Mrs. North. - -“I don’t approve of cutting people, my dear Nita. In a small community -it makes things very unpleasant and leads to such uncomfortable -situations.” Indeed, Mr. Fothersley had more than once interposed in -almost a high-handed manner to prevent Mrs. North cutting ladies of whom -she thought she had reason to be jealous. “No, I sincerely wish we had -never called, but having called, and indeed invited these people to our -houses, received them as guests, I should deprecate cutting them. You -agree with me, Roger?” - -“Certainly. The Pitheys would not care if you did. Also he is the sort -of man who could worry you a good deal in the village if he took it into -his head to do so. Better keep good terms with him if you can.” - -“What did Miss Seer say?” asked Mrs. North. - -“I don’t remember her saying anything, but I was so agitated. I didn’t, -of course, even look at her. You don’t think his remarks will give rise -to any ideas——” Mr. Fothersley paused, looking from one to the other. - -“Good Lord, no!” said North. - -“How do you know?” asked his wife sharply. “I should certainly advise -Arthur to keep away for the future.” - -North shrugged his shoulders as he rose from the table. - -“I expect you will like your cigar in the garden with Nita,” he said, -pushing the box across the table to his guest. “I’ve got some letters to -write.” - -When he reached his study he took Ruth’s telegram out of his pocket-book -and, lighting a match, burned it very carefully to ashes. “Bless their -small minds,” he said. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -Ruth met North as he came up the garden path. - -“So you have come this afternoon! I did so hope you would.” - -“What is it?” he asked. “Nothing wrong with the farm?” - -“Wrong with the farm!” Ruth laughed. “Now just _feel_ it.” - -It was steeped in sunshine and the scent of violas. On the garden wall -the pigeons cooed sleepily. From the river came the lilt of a child’s -laugh. - -“It feels all right,” said North gravely. - -“Just as happy and sound and wholesome as can be,” she said. “I asked -you to come because something wonderful—I believe wonderful—has -happened. I felt I must tell you at once. And I want to ask you things, -want to ask you quite terribly badly. Come up and sit by the blue flower -border. I have the chairs there. It is at its very best.” - -“So you have kept that too,” said North, even as his daughter had said. - -“It is one of the many beautiful things I found here,” she answered. -“The place is full of thoughts just like that. I hope I have not lost -any, but if I have they will come back.” She stopped to lift up some of -the frail nemophilas. Just so North had seen women arrange their -children’s hair. - -“Are not the delphiniums in perfection? They always look to me as if -they were praying.” - -Now years ago, standing in just that selfsame spot, Dick Carey had said -that very same thing. It came back to North in a flash, and how he had -answered: - -“I should think those meek droopy white things look more like it.” - -For a moment he hesitated. Then he gave her the same answer. - -“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “To pray you must aspire. And they must be -blue.” - -Dick Carey had said, “Prayer is aspiration, not humility. Besides, -they’re not blue.” - -Again that sense of well-being which had belonged to the companionship -of his friend stole over North. Again the bitterness and pain seemed to -fade and melt. The present took on a new interest, a new understanding. -He gave himself up to it with a sigh of content as he dropped into the -chair by Ruth Seer’s side. The warmth of the June afternoon, the sleepy -murmur of the life of the farm, the hum of bees, that wonderful blue, it -was all part of it. - -“Now light your pipe and be very comfortable,” she said, and left him -alone while the peace and beauty soaked in. Left him alone for how long -he did not know. When you touch real rest, time ceases. - -Presently he re-lit the pipe which he had lighted and left to go out. - -“Now,” he said, “tell me. I am ready to be convinced of anything -wonderful, just here and now.” - -Ruth smiled. She was sitting very still, her elbow on her knee, her chin -in the hollow of her hand. A great content made her face beautiful. Her -grey eyes dwelt lovingly upon the little world, which held so many -worlds in its circle. The laughter of the children came again across the -field. Then she began to talk. - -“It is so wonderful,” she said. “I can hardly yet believe it can be -true, which is so foolish, because the truth undoubtedly _is_ wonderful -beyond our conceiving. We only see such little bits of it here, even the -wisest of us. And we will think it is the whole. When we do see the -whole, I think what will be the most wonderful thing about it will be -its amazing simplicity. We shall wonder how we ever groped about among -so many seeming complications, so much dirt and darkness.” - -She stopped for a few moments, and North waited. He felt he was -shrinking back into himself, away from whatever might be coming. Like -many very intellectual persons, he was inclined to resent what he could -not account for, and to be wholly unsympathetic, if not a little brutal, -towards it. - -Psychical investigation always had repelled him. Repelled him only less, -and in a different way, than the search for knowledge among the tortured -entrails of friendly dogs. With the great forces of nature he could -fight cleanly, and courageously, to harness them to the service of man. -They were enormously interesting, amazingly beautiful. Powerful enough -to protect themselves if necessary. One wrested their secrets from them -at one’s own peril. And the scientist who strives with the great forces -of nature has the mark of his craft branded into his very soul. Its name -is Truth. To that mark, if he be a true scientist, he is faithful -absolutely, unswervingly. Indeed it must be so. And, ever seeking the -truth, the true scientist knows that his discoveries are ever only -partial; that soon, even before his own little day here is ended, will -come new discoveries which shall modify the old. So that he will never -say “I know,” only “I am learning.” And now for the first time psychic -investigation was making its appeal to him, by the mouth of Ruth Seer, -in the name of Truth. - -“Very well, tell me,” he said, struggling with his dislike. “I will cast -from me, as far as possible all preconceived objections, and, possibly, -prejudices. I will bring an open mind.” - -Ruth turned, her whole face alight. “Ah, that is just what I want! Only -be as critical as you will. I want that too. That is why I wanted so -much to tell you, because you will bring a trained mind to bear on it -all. Because of that, and also because you are his friend, I can speak -about it to you. It would be very difficult to anyone else.” - -She stopped, gathering herself up as it were, before she started. - -“You remember the day you first came? To fetch Larry?” - -North nodded. - -“We all forgathered together at the gate, you and I and the dogs. I told -you about Larry, how he had come the night before, tired and miserable, -and hunted everywhere, and early in the morning he had gone again, so -far as I knew. And just before you came I had found him down by the -stream, quite happy apparently, with a man. I think I told you?” - -“Yes.” - -“The man was watching some kingfishers, and I stopped to watch them too. -Very still we all were. I had never seen the birds close. The man was -lying on the grass, but he looked a tall man. He wore a brown suit, -rather shabby. I could not see his face, only the back of his head -propped up on his hand. It was a long, thin hand, very sunburnt. A -well-shaped, sensitive hand. And he had dark hair with a strong wave in -it. Though it was cut very short, the waves showed quite plainly and -evenly.” - -North had taken his pipe out of his mouth now and was staring at it. - -“Then your motor siren startled us all, and the man vanished as swiftly, -it seemed, as the birds. I wondered just a little—when I thought of it -after, where he could have got to—but not for long. This morning I saw -the same man again. I was in the buttercup field, and he was standing in -the road in front of the new cottages, looking at them. Again I could -only see his back, and he is very tall. He had no hat on, and it was the -same dark wavy hair. You know the little pitch of hill that goes up to -the cottages? When I reached the bottom I could see him quite clearly. -He was pulling Larry towards him by a handkerchief lead, and then -letting him go suddenly—playing with him, you know. And I could hear -Larry snarling as a dog does in play. Then Larry caught sight of me and -stopped to look. And when he looked the man turned and looked at me -too——” - -She paused. The summer sounds of the farm sang on, but it seemed that -just around those two there was a tense silence. North broke it. - -“Well!” he said, his voice harsh and almost impatient. - -“He had a thin, very sunburnt face,” Ruth went on, “lined, but with the -lines that laughter makes. Very blue eyes, the blue eyes that look as if -they had a candle lit behind them. When he saw me he smiled. There was a -flash of very white teeth, and his smile was like a sudden bright -light.” - -North’s pipe dropped on to the flagged pathway with the little dull -click of falling wood. - -Ruth leant towards him; her voice dropped almost to a whisper. - -“Was Dick Carey like that?” she asked. - -“Yes.” North met her eyes for the first time since she had begun to tell -him. The suggestion of unwillingness to listen which had shown in his -manner from the first dropped from him. “What happened next?” - -“I don’t quite know how to describe it. He did not fade or vanish or -anything like that. He remained quite distinct, and that wonderful smile -still shone, but my sight failed. It seemed to grow more and more dim -until at last I could not see him at all. I hurried, I even tried to -call out to him, but it was no good.” - -“But you were not blind; you could see everything else?” - -“Yes, when I looked for them I could. I wish I could explain to you how -it was. The nearest I can get to it is, that his figure, while I saw it, -stood out more distinctly than anything else. All the rest seemed in the -background, indistinct by comparison. Ah, I know—like—have you ever -noticed on a bright sunny day, looking in a shop window, how suddenly -the things reflected are much clearer and more visible than the things -actually in the window? They seem to recede, and the reflection is -strong and clear. Well, it was something like that. As if one had two -sights and one for the moment overbore the other. I’m explaining badly, -but it’s difficult. At any rate he did not evaporate or fade as they say -these visions invariably do. It was the sight failed me.” - -“That is enormously interesting,” said North slowly. - -“You see,” said Ruth eagerly, “ever since I came here this—this being in -touch with Dick Carey has been growing. It is becoming a wonderful -experience; it seems to me of possibly enormous value, but I don’t want -to take it one step beyond where it can reasonably and legitimately be -taken. I want the truth about it. I want your brains, your intelligence, -to help me. I want you honestly and truly to tell me just what you think -of these happenings. And I want to know whether you yourself have had -any sense of his presence here, even ever so faint.” - -North recovered his pipe, re-lit it, and began to smoke again before he -answered. Indeed, he smoked in silence for quite a long time. - -“I cannot deny the fact,” he said at length, “that I have what perhaps -should be described as a prejudice against any supposed communication -with the dead. It has always been surrounded, to my mind, with so much -that is undesirable, nor do I believe in any revelation save that of -science, and on these lines science has no revelation. But there are two -things here that do force themselves on my consideration. One is that -you never knew Dick in the flesh, the other that since you came here, -not before, I have myself felt, not a presence of any sort, but the -sense of well-being and content which always belonged to my -companionship with him. And that I never feel anywhere but at Thorpe, or -at Thorpe except when you are with me. The latter can be explained in -various ways. The former is rather different. Have you ever seen a -photograph of Dick, or has anyone described him to you?” - -“No. I have never seen a photograph, and no one has ever described his -appearance to me.” - -Then she smiled at him suddenly and delightfully. “I am not a curious -woman, but I am human,” she said. “Before we go any further, for pity’s -sake describe Dick Carey to me, and tell me if he was in the habit of -leading Larry by a pocket-handkerchief!” - -“You _have_ described him,” said North, smiling too. “Especially his -smile. I am short-sighted, but I could always tell Dick in a crowd if he -smiled, long before I could distinguish his features. And he did lead -Larry by his handkerchief. It was a regular game between them.” - -“Surely that is in the nature of proof!” exclaimed Ruth. - -“Let us call it circumstantial evidence.” - -“But worth even your—a scientist’s—consideration?” - -“Undoubtedly! By the way, what happened to Larry?” - -“When I thought of him again it was some little time later; he was going -back to the house across the field. And—and—oh, I know it sounds mad—he -was following somebody, and so were Sarah and Selina. You know, don’t -you, what I mean? Dogs run quite differently when they are out on their -own. And I have never known Sarah and Selina leave me to follow anyone -else before, in all their lives.” - -“Any dog would follow Dick,” said North, and then looked as if he would -like to have taken the words back, but she stopped him. - -“You promised,” she said. “And that, too, is a piece of evidence. As I -said, I don’t want to push it a fraction of an inch beyond where it will -go. But think what it means? The breaking down of that awful impassable -wall between the living and the dead. Think what some knowledge, of the -next step only, beyond the Gateway of Death means.” - -“Always supposing there is a next step,” said North. “Again there is no -evidence I can accept. Though, mind you”—he was really in earnest now—“I -am not among those who are content, indeed glad, that it should all end -here. This old universe is too interesting a riddle to drop after a few -years’ study.” - -“Ah, do you know Walt Whitman’s lines?— - - “This day, before dawn, I ascended a hill and looked at the crowded - Heaven. - And I said to my spirit, - When we become the enfolders of these orbs, and the pleasure and - knowledge of everything in them, - Shall we be filled and satisfied then? - And my spirit said, No, we but level that lift to pass and continue - beyond.” - -North nodded. “That’s it! I’m out for that right enough, if it’s going. -I don’t say, mind you, that I’m certain we don’t go on. I’m not such a -fool. But, to my mind, all the evidence so far is the other way.” - -“Have you ever tried to get evidence?” - -“No. All the methods appear to me to be objectionable, very. Even over -this—this possible sight of yours—I don’t feel keen on the idea that -those who have gone are hanging round their old homes, round us who -cannot cognize them.” - -He spoke haltingly, as if expressing himself with difficulty. His -unwillingness to discuss these matters again became evident. - -“But surely time and space in the next world will not exist as we -understand them here, and that must make an almost incalculable -difference. And when you think that so many gave their lives for this -world, isn’t it reasonable to think that the work for some of them may -still be linked up with it? Do you remember when you were talking of the -outlook at the present moment, and Lady Condor asked me what I thought -of it? And I said we were not alone, that those who had died that things -might be better, they with their added knowledge—guided—helped—you -remember? Well, that wasn’t _my own_ idea somehow. It came to me from -somewhere else, quite suddenly, on the moment, as it were. And I had to -say it—though I felt shy and uncomfortable. One does not speak of these -things to all the world. But _some one_ wanted me to say it—just then -and there.” - -She stopped, and in both their minds was a vision of Violet Riversley’s -beautiful angry unhappy face. - -“I remember,” answered North. “And your idea is that Dick’s mind can -communicate with yours by thought?” - -Ruth thought a little; her eyes looked out without seeing. - -“It is not an idea,” she said at last. “I know.” - -“And have you any idea or knowledge why it should be so, seeing you -never knew each other in this life? If you had, and had loved very -deeply, it would be more comprehensible, though less interesting from -the point of view of proving communication. As it is, there seems to me -nothing sufficiently important to account for it. Nothing beyond a -certain likeness of thought and interests.” - -Ruth smiled. The interest had gripped him again. He was thinking out -aloud. She waited until he looked at her. - -“What is your explanation?” he asked. - -And suddenly Ruth found it amazingly difficult to explain. The memory of -that velvet night of stars, the message in the song of the little brown -bird, the revelation which had come to her, swept over her again with a -renewed and surprising sweetness, but of words she seemed bereft. -Compared with the wonder and beauty of the thought they seemed utterly -inadequate and hopeless. She put out both her hands with a little -foreign gesture of helplessness. - -“You have none?” he asked, and she caught the disappointment in his -voice, and looking at him saw, as she had seen once before on his first -visit, the lonely tired soul of the man who, losing Dick Carey, had lost -much. And Dick Carey was there, so very surely there. - -“It isn’t the personal love for one that really brings together,” she -said, her voice very, very gentle. “It is the love for everything that -has life or breath. _That_ love must be communion. It makes you belong.” - -There was a little silence before she went on: - -“You see, I never had any one person to concentrate on, unless it was -old Raphael Goltz, and looking back, I see now he was a cosmic sort of -person. He did really in some way grip the whole of things, and it -helped me more than I had any idea of at the time. Then I cared so much -for all the men out in Flanders who came in and out of my life so -swiftly and spasmodically. Then I came here, and found how much I cared -for all living things in the lower worlds. And he is linked up too with -them all, because he cared so much. And we have both by chance, whatever -chance may be, focused on Thorpe. Do you at all understand what I mean?” - -“Yes, after a fashion,” said North. “It’s like watching some one dimly -moving about in an unknown, and to me a visionary, world. I own you are -right—he moved in it too; and I am also ready to own it is possible -because of my own limitations that I can only regard it as visionary.” - -“Raphael had many books dealing with these things,” said Ruth. “I feel -so sorry now that they did not interest me then. You see, I had never -lost anyone by death. I had no one to lose. It was only out in France -when the men came in and drank my soup or coffee, and some slept like -tired children, and others played a game of cards, or talked to me of -home, and we all seemed like children of one family belonging to each -other. And in a few hours, perhaps less, I would see one or more of them -lying dead—gone out like flames extinguished quite suddenly. And I -didn’t know what life or death meant.” - -North nodded. “It hits one sometimes,” he said. - -“And their people at home—I used to write for some of those who were -brought in to the estaminet and died before they could get them farther. -One thought of them all the time. Going on with their everyday life at -home, and waiting. That is why what has happened to me here seems so -amazingly important, why its truth needs such close questioning, why I -so much want your help.” - -“For what it is worth it is at your disposal, and”—he paused before he -went on with decision—“I own I am interested, as I have never been -before in so-called communication with another world.” - -“There are some books here dealing with psychic faculties. I found them -on the top of the oak bookcase. Mostly by German authors. Would they -have been Mr. Carey’s?” - -“More likely they belonged to a friend of his who used to stay here.” - -“Oh, the German friend!” exclaimed Ruth. - -“You have heard of him?” - -“Mr. Fothersley spoke of him only this morning, and your daughter -mentioned him the other day.” - -“He was an interesting personality, and very strong on the point that -there were extraordinary powers and forces latent in man. I never cared -to discuss them with him. He went too far, and looking back I think I -almost unconsciously dreaded his influence over Dick. I don’t think I -need have. Dick was, I recognize it now, the stronger of the two.” - -“But he was interested in the same things?” - -“Undoubtedly. Possibly I was jealous; I preferred him to be interested -in my particular line of study. He _was_ interested to a great extent of -course, but von Schäde’s lines of thought appealed to him more. I -remember the last night von Schäde was here. It was in the June of 1914. -He had been paying Dick a long visit and was leaving in the morning. It -was the sort of night when the world seems much bigger than it does by -day—a wonderful night. The sky was thick with stars, and he stood just -over there with their light on his face, and talked to us as if we were -a public meeting. He was a good-looking chap in a hard frozen sort of -style. Oliver Lodge had been speaking to the Royal Art Society on the -Sources of Power, and it had got von Schäde on to his hobby. - -“‘You talk of the power of atomic energy, you scientists,’ he said; ‘it -is as nothing compared with the forces possessed by man in himself. If -we studied these, if we understood these, if we knew how to harness and -direct them, there is nothing in heaven and earth we should not be -masters of. Men—we should be gods! And you men with brains puddle about -among the forces of nature, blind and deaf to the forces in man which -could harness every one of the forces of nature obedient to your will, -and leave the study of these things to hysterical madmen and neurotic -women. And those who have some knowledge, who have the gift, the power, -to experiment with these forces if they would, they are afraid of this -and that. My God, you make me sick!’ - -“He threw out both his arms and his face was as white as a sheet. Old -Dick got up and put his arm round the fellow’s shoulders. Goodness knows -what he saw in him! ‘We’ll get the forces harnessed right enough, old -fellow, when we’re fit to use them,’ he said. - -“And they looked at each other for a full minute, von Schäde glaring and -Dick smiling, and then von Schäde suddenly began to laugh. - -“‘Mostly I’m fond of you, Dick,’ he said, ‘but sometimes I hate you like -the deuce!’ - -“He went the next morning, and I was glad. For another thing he fell in -love with Vi, and she was such a little demon to flirt that until the -last minute you never knew if she was serious or not. Morally and -socially he was irreproachable, but—well, I didn’t like him! I often -wondered how he took the news of her engagement to Dick.” - -“That happened after he left?” - -“Yes. The second time Dick went out to the front. He wasn’t a marrying -man really. But you know how things were then. Vi broke down over his -going, and he had always been fond of her since she was a baby. But I -don’t think it would have been a success. I never could picture old Dick -as anything but a bachelor.” - -He stopped, for he saw she was not listening. She was thinking hard. Her -black brows bent, her grey eyes almost as black beneath them. - -“That is very interesting,” she said presently, speaking slowly, as one -tracking an idea. “Von Schäde must have known that Dick Carey knew -better how to exercise those latent powers than he did. They were both -seeking the same thing from different motives.” - -“Explain, please.” - -Ruth was silent again for a moment, still thinking hard. “It’s not easy, -you know,” she said. “But this is the best I can do. They were both -scientists of the invisible, just as you are a scientist of the visible, -but Dick Carey was seeking union with God and von Schäde was seeking -knowledge and power for himself. Therefore they studied the unseen -sources of life and death by different methods, and Dick Carey had got -farther than von Schäde and von Schäde knew it.” - -North shook his head. “Now you are wandering in the mist so far as I am -concerned,” he said. - -Ruth sighed. “I explain badly, but then I am only struggling in the mist -myself. I wish I had cared for these things when Raphael Goltz was -alive! So many things he said which passed me by then come back to me -now with a new meaning. But there is one thing just lately I have felt -very strongly. When he was in the physical body Dick Carey was a far -more wonderful man than any of you knew—except probably von Schäde. Yes, -you loved him I know, the world is black without him, but you didn’t -think he was anything extraordinary. You are a great man and he was -nobody, in the eyes of the world. You don’t know even now how wonderful -he was. And now he has escaped from this clogging mould, this blinding -veil of physical matter, he is, I firmly believe, making this little -corner of the earth, this little Sussex farm, what every home and -village the town might be if we were in touch with the invisible secret -source of all.” - -She stopped, for she felt that North was not following her any longer, -was shrinking back again. - -“Oh!” she cried, “why won’t you believe it is worth your study at any -rate?” - -North turned on her suddenly, harshly, almost brutally. - -“I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t you see it’s all shapeless, -formless, to a mind like mine? I want to believe. God! it would give one -an horizon beyond eternity; but you talk of what to me is foolishness.” - -He looked at her with an immeasurable dreariness of soul in his eyes, -and very gently she put her worn brown hand in his and held it. - -“Listen,” she said, and her voice was deep with sudden music. “The -children come now. You cannot keep them away. Something draws them to -Thorpe. The wild creatures one can understand. It is sanctuary. But the -children—it must mean something.” - -“You are here.” - -She shrank back as if hurt. “No, oh no! It is not me. It is something -altogether beyond me. Oh, do listen. They were always slipping in, or -standing by the gate with their little faces peeping between the bars. -Quite tinies some of them, and I took them back to their homes at first. -I thought their mothers would be anxious. And then—then I began to -guess. So now I have given them the field beyond the stream and they -come out of school hours.” - -“The lower field!” exclaimed North. “No wonder you have taken -Fothersley’s breath away.” - -“Oh, he does not know of that. Fortunately he was here in the morning -during school hours, so he only saw the Blackwall children. You see,” -she added apologetically, “it is _such_ a child’s field, with the stream -and the little wood with blue-bells, and there are cowslips in the -spring and nuts in the autumn, and I shall make hay as usual, of course. -We cut on Tuesday.” - -“Don’t you find them very destructive?” - -“They haven’t trampled down a yard of grass,” said Ruth triumphantly. “I -gave them a strip by the stream under the silver birches. The primrose -bit, you know, and the wood. And the hay is in a way their property. You -go and try to walk across it! You’ll have a nest full of jackdaws at -you!” - -“But the trees and flowers!” - -“That is just another thing,” she smiled at him. “Oh, why won’t you -believe? I have had to teach them hardly anything. They know. No branch -is ever torn down. Never will you find those pathetic little bunches of -picked and thrown-away flowers here. The birds are just as tame. I teach -them very little. I’m afraid of spoiling my clumsy help. It is so -wonderful. They bring crumbs of any special bit of cake they get, for -the birds, and plant funny little bits of roots and sow seeds. Come down -and see them with me. I don’t take, or tell, other people. I am so -afraid of it getting spoilt.” - -North extracted his long frame from his chair. - -“All right,” he said, with that odd smile of his as of one humouring a -child. “But you are mad, you know, quite mad.” - -“You said that to me before.” - -And then North remembered suddenly that he had often said it to Dick -Carey. - -Their way led across the flower garden, and under the cherry-orchard -trees where the daisies shone like snow on the green of the close-cut -grass. Here they found Bertram Aurelius lying on his back talking in -strange language to the whispering leaves above him, and curling and -uncurling his bare pink toes in the dappled sunlight. His mother sat -beside him, her back against a tree trunk, mending the household linen -when she could keep her eyes off him for more than a minute. The dogs -fell upon Bertram Aurelius, who took them literally to his bosom, -fighting them just as a little puppy fights, and his mother smiled up at -them with her big blue eyes and foolish loose-lipped red mouth. - -“Have you ever heard anything of the father?” said North, when they were -out of earshot. - -“Killed at Bullecourt,” Ruth answered. “I could not help feeling it was -perhaps best. He will be a hero to her now always.” - -The lower field was steeped in the afternoon sunshine, and the children -were chirping like so many birds. Two sat by the stream blowing -dandelion clocks, which another small child carried to them with careful -footsteps, his tongue protruding in the anxious effort to convey the -fragile globes in safety before they floated away. Two bigger boys were -planting busily in a clearing in the wood. Another slept, seemingly just -as he had fallen, with all the lissom grace of childhood, and on the -bank beside him a small girl crooned to something she nursed against her -flat little chest. - -Roger North looked at the peaceful scene with relief. - -“I believe I’d expect a sort of school feast,” he said. “If you don’t -break forth any more violently than this, I’m with you. What are the -little beggars planting?” - -“Michaelmas daisies. They should do there, don’t you think? And we are -trying lilies in that far corner. The soil is damp and peaty. We were -too late for fruit trees this year but I’ve great plans for autumn -planting.” - -North, oddly enough, so it seemed to many, was popular with children. He -never asked them endless questions, or if they wanted to do this or -that. He liked the little people, and had discovered that at heart they -were like the shy wild things. Leave them alone and keep quiet, and, ten -to one, presently a little hand will creep into yours. - -He let himself down on the bank near the crooning child, in silence. She -was a thin white slip of a thing, with very fair hair and a pair of big -translucent eyes. It was an old doll she was nursing, so old that its -face had practically disappeared, and a blank white circle gazed to -heaven from under a quite smart tam-o’-shanter. She was telling some -story apparently, but only now and then were any words intelligible. - -Presently she began to look at North sideways, and her voice rose out of -its low monotone into a higher key. It was like the sudden movement of a -bird nearer to something or some one whose _bona fides_ it has at first -mistrusted. - -The words she was crooning became more intelligible, and gradually North -realized, to his astonishment, that she was repeating, after her own -fashion, the old Saga of Brynhild the warrior maid whom Segurd found -clad in helm and byrne. A queer mixture of the ride of the Valkyries, of -Brynhild asleep surrounded by the eternal fires. Brynhild riding her -war-horse on to the funeral pyre. Loki the Fire God. Wotan with his -spear. All were mixed up in a truly wonderful whole. But still more to -his astonishment it was the sword which appealed evidently above all to -this small white maiden. On the sword she dwelt lovingly, and wove her -tale around its prowess. And when she had brought her recital to a -triumphantly shrill close at the moment when Siegmund draws the sword -from the tree, she turned and looked him full in the face, half shyly, -half triumphantly, wholly appealing. It was as if she said, “What do you -think of that now?” - -North nodded at her. “That’s first rate, you know,” he said. - -“Which would you choose, if you had the choice? Would you choose the -ring or the sword?” she asked. - -“Well, I’m inclined to think old Wotan’s spear is more in my line,” said -North in a tone of proper thoughtful consideration. “It broke the sword -once, didn’t it? At least I believe it did. But it’s rather a long time -ago since I read about these things. Do you learn them at school?” - -“They aren’t lessons.” She looked at him with some contempt. “They’re -stories.” - -“It’s such a long time ago since anyone told me stories,” said North -apologetically. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten.” - -She looked at him with compassion, holding the battered doll closer to -her. Her eyes reminded him of a rain-washed sky. - -“I tell Tommy lots of stories,” she said. - -Another child’s voice called to her from the wood, “Moira, Moira,” and -she fled away. It was like the sudden flight of a bird. - -“Who is the child who tells her dolls the story of the Ring?” he asked -Ruth, when she rejoined him. “She is rather like one of Rackham’s Rhine -Maidens herself, by the way.” - -“Moria Kent? Isn’t she a lovely little thing? Her mother is the village -school-mistress.” - -“Ah, that accounts for it I suppose,” said North. - -Ruth opened her mouth to speak, and closed it again. Instead of what she -had meant to say, she said, “Come, it is time for tea. And I have -ordered strawberries and cream.” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -Roger North let himself down into the cane deck-chair by his study -window with a sigh of relief. The wonderful weather still held. It had -been a hot morning, there were people staying in the house—people who -bored North—and lunch had been to him a wearisome meal. Everyone had -consumed a great deal of food and wine and talked an amazing lot of -nonsense, and made a great deal of noise, and the heat had become -unbearable. - -Here, though the warmth was great, the stillness was perfect. The rest -of the world had retired to their rooms to change for the tennis party -in the afternoon. North felt he could depend on at least an hour of -quiet. Across the rosebeds and smooth lawns he could see his cattle -lying in the tall grass under the trees. He watched others moving slowly -from shade to shade—Daisy and Bettina, and Fancy—and presently Patricia, -the big white mother of many pigs, hove in sight on her way to the -woods. For North was a farmer too, and loved his beasts better, it must -be owned, than he loved his own kind. - -He cut a hole in the orange he had brought from the lunch-table and -commenced to suck in great content. Like the ladies of Cranford he -considered there was no other way to eat an orange. He also agreed with -them that it was a pleasure that should be enjoyed in private. - -He gave himself up to the soothing peace and rest of his cool shaded -room. The friendly faces of his beloved books looked down on him, the -fragrance of his roses came in, hot and sweet, a very quintessence of -summer. Patricia had reached the wood now; he watched her dignified -waddle disappear in its green depths. What a pleasant and beautiful -world it all was, except for the humans. - -He dropped the jangling remains of the irritating lunch interval out of -his consciousness, and his mind drifted back to his morning’s work, the -conclusion of a week of observation, of measurements, of estimating -quantities, of balancing relations. A week of the scientist’s -all-absorbing pursuit of knowledge, which had, as his wife complained, -made him deaf and dumb and blind to all else. A disturbing fact in his -work was beginning to force itself upon him. He was becoming more and -more conscious that, in spite of the exquisite delicacy of scientific -apparatus, observation was becoming increasingly difficult. He could no -longer make the atom a subject of observation; it escaped him. He was -beginning to base his arguments on mathematical formula. Even with the -chemical atom, four degrees below the ultimate physical atom, he was -beginning to reason, without basing his reasons on observation, because -he could not observe; it was too minute, too fine, too delicate—it -escaped him. He had no instrument delicate enough to observe. He had -come to a deadlock. The fact forced itself upon him with ever-increasing -insistence; he could no longer deny it. He could carry some of his -investigations no farther without the aid of finer, subtler instruments. -His methods failed him. Nor could his particular order of mind accept -the new psychology. He could not investigate by means of hypnotism, or -autoscopy, or accept the strange new psychological facts which were -revolutionizing all the old ideas of human consciousness, because he -could not get away from the fundamental fact that science had no theory -with which these strange new things would fit, no explanation, as he had -said to Ruth Seer, which could arrange them in a rational order. And, -dreaming in the warmth of the afternoon, with the fragrance and beauty -of the wonderful universe filtering into his consciousness, the idea -penetrated with ever-growing insistence: Had the gods, by some wonderful -chance, by some amazing good fortune, placed in his hands, his, Roger -North’s, an instrument, finer, subtler, more delicate, than any of which -he had ever dreamed, the consciousness that was materializing as Ruth -Seer? He seemed struggling with himself, or rather with another self—a -self that was striving to draw him into misty unreal things, and he -shrank back into his world of what seemed to him solid, tangible things, -things that he could touch and handle and prove by measure and -calculation and observation. And then again the larger vision gripped -him. Was there indeed a finer, subtler, more wonderful matter, waiting -to be explored by different, finer, subtler methods? What was it Dick -Carey and Ruth Seer cognized, contracted with outside his ken? Could he -be certain it did not exist? “God! it would give you an horizon beyond -eternity,” he had said to Ruth Seer; that was true enough—if the vision -was true. Always till now he had thought of any vision beyond as a -fable, invented by wise men to help lesser men through what was after -all but a sorry business. And now, for the first time, it really gripped -him—what it would mean if it were not a fable, not a useful deception -for weaker men who could not face life as it really was. God! it would -give you an horizon beyond eternity! The vision was as yet only a dim -muddle of infinite possibilities and Roger North’s mind hated muddle. He -was like the blind man of Bethsaida who, when Christ touched his eyes, -looked up, and saw men, as trees, walking. - -Suddenly he got up and moved a photograph of Dick Carey that stood upon -his writing-table, moved it to an inconspicuous place on the mantelshelf -amongst other photographs. Then he hesitated for a moment before he took -one of the others and put it on the writing-table. - -And this simple action meant that Roger North had put on one side his -shrinking from the intangible and invisible and had started on new -investigations with new instruments for observation. - -Then he went back to his chair and began a second orange. Mansfield had -just carried out the croquet mallets and balls, and was arranging for -the afternoon games in his usual admirable manner. North watched him -lazily as he sucked the orange, pleasantly conscious that a new interest -had gripped his life, his mind already busy, tabulating, arranging the -different subtler matter he proposed to work with. - -It was here the door opened, and with the little clatter and bustle -which always heralded her approach, his wife entered, curled, powdered -and adorned, very pretty and very smart, for her afternoon party. - -A visit from her at this moment was altogether unexpected. It was also -unfortunate. - -It is doubtful if much had depended on it, whether Mrs. North could have -helped some expression of her objection to orange-sucking when indulged -in by her husband. She came to an abrupt halt in the doorway and looked -much as if there was a bad smell under her nose. - -There was an unpleasant pause. North, inwardly fumed, continued to suck -his orange. He had, it is to be feared, the most complete contempt for -his wife’s opinion on all subjects, and it irritated him to feel that -she had nevertheless, at times, a power which, it must be confessed, she -had used unmercifully in the early days of their married life, to make -him feel uncomfortable. - -Finally he flung the orange at the wastepaper basket, missed his aim, -and it landed, the gaping hole uppermost, in the centre of the hearth. - -“If you want to speak to me,” he said irritably, “you had better come -and sit down. On the other hand, if you do not like my sucking an -orange, you might have gone away till I had finished.” - -“I didn’t say anything,” said Mrs. North. - -She skirted the offending orange skin carefully and arranged the fluffy -curls at the back of her neck in front of the glass. Then she sat down -and arranged the lace in front of her frock. - -“I can’t think why you are always so disagreeable now,” she complained -at length. “You used to be so fond of me once.” - -By this time the atmosphere was electric with irritation. A more -inopportune moment for such an appeal could hardly have been chosen. - -“I don’t suppose you have dressed early to come down and tell me that,” -said North. It was not nice of him, and he knew it was not nice, but for -the life of him he could not help it. Indeed it was only by a superhuman -effort that his answer had not verged on the brutal. - -“I came to talk to you about Violet, but it’s so impossible to talk to -you about anything.” - -“Why try?” interposed North. - -“I suppose you take some interest in your own child?” retorted Mrs. -North. “I daresay you have not noticed it, but she is looking wretchedly -ill.” - -North relapsed into silence and continued to watch Mansfield’s -preparation on the lawn. - -“_Have_ you noticed it?” asked his wife, her voice shrill now with -exasperation. - -“Yes,” said North. - -“Very well then, why can’t you take some interest? Why can’t you ever -talk things over with me like other husbands do with their wives? And it -isn’t only that she looks ill; she’s altered—she isn’t the same girl she -was even a year ago. And people remark on it. She isn’t popular like she -used to be. People seem afraid of her.” - -She had secured North’s attention now. The drawn lines on his face -deepened. There was anxiety as well as irritation in his glances. - -“Have you spoken to her? Tried to find out what is wrong?” - -“No,” said Mrs. North. “At least I have _tried_, but it’s impossible to -get anything out of her. It’s like talking to a stranger. Really, -sometimes I’m frightened of her. It sounds ridiculous, of course, but -there it is. And we used to be such good friends and tell each other -everything.” - -“I am afraid she has never really got over Dick’s death,” said North, -his manner appreciably gentler. “And possibly her marriage so soon after -was not the wisest thing.” - -“You approved of it quite as much as I did.” - -“Certainly. I am not in any sense blaming you. Besides, Violet did not -ask either our advice or our approval. My meaning rather is, that -possibly she is paying now for what I own seemed to me at the time a -quite amazing courage.” - -“She confided in you all that dreadful time far more than she did in -me,” said Mrs. North fretfully, and with her pitiful inability to meet -her husband when his natural kindness of heart or sense of duty moved -him to try to discuss things of mutual interest with her in a friendly -spirit. “If you had not taken her away from me then, it might have been -different.” - -North shrugged his shoulders, and returned to his contemplation of the -croquet lawn and Mansfield’s preparations. Violet had never from her -babyhood been anything but a bone of contention, unless he had been -content never to interfere or express opinions contrary to his wife’s. - -“What do you want me to do?” he asked. - -“Only show some natural interest in your own child,” she retorted. “But -you never can talk anything over without being irritable. And as to her -marriage with Fred, we were all agreed it was an excellent thing. Of -course if you haven’t noticed how altered she is, it’s no good my -telling you.” - -“I have noticed it,” said North shortly. - -“Well, what do you think we had better do?” - -“You really want my opinion?” - -North had said this before over other matters. He wrestled with the -futility of saying it over this. But he knew that his wife was a -devoted, if sometimes an unwise, mother, and he had on the whole been -very generous to her with regard to their only child. He sympathized -with her now in her anxiety. - -“Of course I do,” she responded. “Isn’t it what I’ve been saying all -this time?” - -“Then honestly I don’t see what either you or I can do but stand by. She -knows we’re there right enough, both of us. She can depend on Fred too, -she knows that. But it seems to me that until she comes to us we’ve got -to leave her alone to fight out whatever the trouble is in her own way. -I think you are right—there _is_ trouble. But we can’t force her -confidence and we should do no good if we did. I’m afraid you won’t -think that much help.” He looked at her with some kindness. “But I -believe it is quite sound advice.” - -“It’s dreadful to feel like a stranger with one’s own child,” complained -Mrs. North. “It makes me perfectly miserable. Of course I don’t think a -father feels the same as a mother.” - -A shadow fell across the strip of sunlight coming in from the window. A -gay voice broke the sequence of her complaint. - -“Oh, _here_ you are!” it said. - -Both of them looked up hastily, almost guiltily. Violet Riversley stood -on the gravel pathway outside. A gay and gallant figure, slim and -straight in her favourite white. The sun shone on the smooth coiled -satin of her dark hair, on the whiteness of her wonderful skin. Her -golden eyes danced as she crossed the step of the French window. - -“I felt in my bones you would be having a party this afternoon,” she -said. “So I put Fred and myself into the car, and here we are!” - -She looked from one to the other and they looked at her, momentarily -bereft of speech. For here was the old Violet, gay with over-brimming -life and mirth, the beautiful irresistible hoyden of the days before the -war, before Dick Carey had died, suddenly back again as it were. And -now, and now only, did either of them realize to the full the difference -between her and the Violet they had just been discussing. - -“What is the matter with you both?” she cried. “You look as if you were -plotting dark and desperate deeds! And Mansfield is nearly in tears -under the beech-tree because he can’t arrange the chairs to his -satisfaction without you.” She looked at her mother. “He says”—she -looked at her father and bubbled with mirth—“the trenches have spoilt -his sense of the artistic! And he says he is a champion at croquet now -himself. He won all the competitions at V.A.D. hospital. Do you think we -ought to ask him to play this afternoon?” - -“My dear Violet——” began Mrs. North, smitten by the horror of the -suggestion. - -“Look here, Vi,” said North. On a sudden impulse he put his long legs -down from his deck-chair, sat erect, and swept her gay badinage aside. -“We were talking about you.” - -“Me!” - -She bent her straight black brows at him, a shadow swept over her -brilliance, she shivered a little. - -“I suppose I have been pretty poisonous to you lately.” She meditated -for a moment. Then her old irresistible mischievous smile shone out. -“But it’s nothing to what I’ve been to poor Fred.” - -She ran her lithe fingers through North’s grizzled hair and became -serious again. - -“Dad and Mums, darlings, I don’t know what’s been the matter with me—but -I’ve been in hell. I woke up this morning and felt like -Shuna-something’s daughter when the devil was driven out of her. And I -got up and danced round the room in my nighty, because the old world was -beautiful again and I didn’t hate everything and everybody. And don’t -talk to me about what I’ve been like, darlings—I don’t want to think of -it. All I know is, it’s gone, and if it ever comes back——” - -She stopped and repeated slowly: - -“If it ever comes back——” - -Her slim erect figure shivered, as a rod of steel shivers driven by -electric force. - -Then she flung up a defiant hand and laughed. The gay light laughter of -the old Violet. “But I won’t let it! Never again! Never, never, never! -Mums, come out and wrestle with Mansfield’s lost artistic sense.” - -She lifted Mrs. North, protesting shrilly, bodily out of her chair. - -“My dear Violet! Don’t! Oh, my hat!” she cried, and retreated, like a -ruffled bird, to the looking-glass over the mantelshelf to rearrange her -plumage. - -Violet seized her father by both hands and pulled him too out of his -chair. - -“Come and play a game of croquet with me before the guests come, Herr -Professor,” she said. - -It was her old name for him in the days when Karl von Schäde had brought -many German expressions and titles into their midst. It struck North -with a curious little unpleasant shock. - -“Why have you put poor Dick’s photo up here?” asked his wife. - -“Oh, do leave my things alone!” exclaimed North. - -His wife’s capacity for discovering and inquiring into any little thing -he did not want to explain was phenomenal. It irritated him to see her -pick up the frame. It irritated him that she would always speak of his -dead friend as “poor Dick.” - -The atmosphere disturbed by Violet’s sudden radiant entrance became once -more charged with electric irritation. - -Mrs. North put down the frame with a little click. - -“I thought it was some mistake of the servant’s,” she said stiffly. - -Violet pulled her father out of the French window. “Come, we have only -time for half a game now,” she said. - -Mrs. North followed. - -“Your Miss Seer is coming this afternoon, Roger,” she said. “I do hope -you won’t talk to no one else, if you intend to appear at all. It looks -so bad, and only makes everyone talk!” - -With which parting shot she retreated towards Mansfield and the chairs. - -Violet slipped her arm through her father’s as they crossed the lawn. -“She can’t help it, daddy,” she said soothingly. - -North laughed, a short mirthless laugh. - -“I suppose not. Go ahead, Vi. I’ll take blue.” - -They buried themselves in the game after the complete and concentrated -manner of the real croquet player. Both were above the average, and it -was an infinite relief to North to find Violet taking her old absorbing -interest in his defeat. - -Presently Fred Riversley wandered out and stood watching them, stolid -and heavy as usual, but his nod to North held meaning, and a great -content. North was beginning to like this rather dull young man in a way -he would once have thought impossible. He had been the plainest, the -least attractive, and the least interesting of the group of brilliant -children who had grown up in such a bewilderingly sudden way, almost, it -seemed, on the declaration of war, and of whom so few were left. North’s -mind drifted back to those days which seemed so long ago, another -lifetime, to those gay glad children who had centred round his friend -and so been part of his own life. And then a sudden nostalgia seized -him, a sick sense of the purposeless horror of life. And you -cared—really cared—if you made a bad shot at croquet, or if your wife -objected to your sucking oranges. Mansfield, who had faced death by -torture minute after minute out there, was worried because he could not -arrange the chairs at a tennis party. And those boys and the girl, -little Sybil Rawson, were all broken up, smashed out of existence, -finished. They had not even left any other boys and girls of their own -behind; they were some of nature’s waste. - -He missed his shot, and Violet gave a cry of triumph. It gave the game -into her hands. She went out with a few pretty finish shots. - -“Not up to your usual mark that, sir!” said Riversley. - -“No,” said North. “It was a rotten shot!” And he _did_ care. He was -annoyed with himself. “Rotten!” he said, and played the stroke over -again. - -“Absolutely unworthy!” laughed his daughter. - -She put out first one and then the other of her balls with deft -precision and waved her mallet to an approaching car. - -“Here are the Condors,” she said. “And Condie himself! I haven’t seen -him for ages, the old dear!” - -She skimmed the lawn like a bird towards the front door. - -Mansfield was tenderly assisting an enormously stout gentleman to get -out of the car backwards. - -“Excellent, bombardier!” said the stout gentleman. “Excellent. You have -let me down without a single twinge. Now they put my man into the motor -transport. Most unfortunate for me. The knowledge of how to handle a -live bomb would have been invaluable.” - -He heaved slowly round in time to receive Violet Riversley’s -enthusiastic welcome. His face was very round and full, the features, in -themselves good, partially buried in many rolls of flesh, the whole -aspect one of benign good nature. Only an occasional penetrating flash -from under his heavy eyelids revealed the keen intelligence which had -given him no small reputation in the political world. - -“Ah, little Vi! It’s pleasant to see you again,” he said. “How are you, -North?” His voice was soft and thick, but had the beauty of perfect -pronunciation. - -It was the only sound ever known to check his wife’s amazing flow of -conversation. She owned herself that it had been difficult, but she had -recognized the necessity early in their married life. - -“You see, no one wanted to hear me talk if they could hear him,” she -explained. “Now it has become a habit. Condor has only to say ‘Ah!’ and -I stop like an automaton.” - -At this moment she was following him from the car amid the usual shower -of various belongings. Violet and her husband assisted her while North -and Mansfield gathered up the débris. - -“Yes, my dears, we have been to a meeting as usual. Natural—I mean -National Economy. Condor made a really admirable speech, recommending -impossible things; excellent, of course—only impossible! My glasses? -Thank you, Roger. Yes, isn’t the car shabby? I am so thankful. A new -Rolls-Royce has such a painfully rich appearance, hasn’t it? And the old -ones go just as well, if not better. That scarf? Um—yes—perhaps I will -want it. Let us put it into Condor’s pocket. A little more padding makes -no difference to him.” - -“When I was younger it used to be my privilege and pleasure to pick up -these little odds and ends for my wife,” said Lord Condor, smiling -good-naturedly, while his wife stuffed the scarf into his pocket. “But -alas! my figure no longer permits.” - -“I remember my engagement was a most trying time,” said Lady Condor. “My -dear mother impressed on me that if Condor once realized the irritation -my untidiness and habit of dropping my things about would cause him in -our married life, he would break it off. What, Vi? Oh, damn the thing!” - -Violet Riversley, holding a gold bag which had mysteriously dropped from -somewhere, went off into a helpless fit of laughter. - -“Don’t laugh, my dear. It is nothing to laugh at. I do hope Mansfield -did not hear! One catches these bad habits, but I have not taken to -swearing. I do not approve of it for women—or of smoking—do I, Condor? -But that wretched bag has spoilt my whole afternoon; that is the fifth -time it has been handed to me. I could not really enjoy Condor’s speech. -Quite admirable—only no one could possibly do the things he recommended. -But where was I? Oh yes—the bag—you see, I bought it at Asprey’s! You -know, in Bond Street—yes. There was a whole window full of them. How -should it strike one that they were luxuries, and that the scarcity of -gold was so great? One has got quite used to the paper money by now. And -somehow it never seems so valuable as real sovereigns. I am sure our -extravagance is due to this. It’s nearly as bad as paying by cheque. But -where was I? Oh, my bag! You see, we all went to this meeting to -patronize National Economy. Most necessary, Condor says, and we must all -do our best. But it really would have been better, I think, if we had -not all gone in our cars and taken our gold bags. Everyone seemed to -have a gold bag—and aigrettes on their heads. I never wear them myself. -The poor birds—I couldn’t. But I know they cost pounds and pounds, and -no one could call them necessities. Or the gold bags of course, if gold -is so very scarce. Ought we to send them to be melted down? I will -gladly send mine into the lower regions. Just as we were entering it -plopped down on the step, and you can imagine the noise it made, and a -quite poor-looking man picked it up and gave it back to me. He had on -one of the dreadful-looking suits, you know, that they gave our poor -dear men when they were demobilized. He was most pleasant, but what must -he have thought? And I could not explain to him about the shop -window-full because Condor was waiting for me. And then, on the -platform, just as Condor was making one of his most telling points, it -_clanged_ down off my lap, and of course it fell just where there was no -carpet. I tried to kick it under the chair, but little Mr. Peckham—you -know him, dear—would jump up and make quite a show of it, handing it -back to me. No, don’t give it me again. Put it into Condor’s pocket. But -he has gone! To see the pigs with Roger? Isn’t it wonderful the -attraction pigs have for men of a certain age! My dear father was just -the same, and he called his pigs after us—or was it us after the pigs?—I -don’t quite remember which. And where is your mother? Oh, I see—playing -croquet with Mrs. Ingram. My dear, did you ever see such a hat! Like a -plate of petrified porridge, isn’t it? No, tell your mother not to come. -I will just wave my hand. Go and tell her not to stop her game, dear -Violet. And here is Arthur! He has something important to tell me—I know -by his walk. Now let us get comfortable first, and where we shall not be -disturbed. Yes. Those two chairs over there.” - -“I do want a little chat if possible, Marion,” said Mr. Fothersley. He -retrieved a scarf which had floated suddenly across his path, with the -skill born of long practice. “Yes, I will keep it in case you feel -cold.” - -He folded it in a neat square so that it could go into his pocket -without damage to either scarf or pocket, and held the back of her chair -while she fitted herself into it. - -“A footstool? Thank you, Arthur. I will say for Nita, she understands -the art of making her guests comfortable. Now at the Howles’ yesterday I -had a chair nearly impossible to get into and quite impossible to get -out of! But where were we? Oh yes—you have got something you want to -tell me. I always know by your walk.” - -Mr. Fothersley was a little vexed. “I cannot see how it can possibly -affect my walk, Marion.” - -“It is odd, isn’t it?” said her Ladyship briskly. “It is just like my -dear father. A piece of news was written all over him until he got rid -of it. I remember when poor George Somerville shot himself—my dear -mother and I were sitting on the terrace, and we saw my father coming up -from the village—quite a long way off—you could not distinguish a -feature—but we knew at once he was bringing news—news of importance. But -where were we?” - -She stopped suddenly and looked at him with the smile which had turned -the heads of half the gilded youth of fifty years ago. - -“I am a garrulous old woman, my dear Arthur. You are anxious -about something, and here am I worrying you with my silly -reminiscences—yes—now what is it? Tell me all about it, and we will see -what can be done.” - -“I am certainly perturbed,” said Mr. Fothersley. He smoothed down his -delicate grey waistcoat and settled himself back in his chair. “I am -afraid there is no doubt Nita is becoming jealous of Miss Seer.” - -“Good heavens! I would as soon suspect that blue iris!” - -“Quite so! Quite so! But you know what Nita is about these things. And, -unfortunately, it appears that Roger has been over to Thorpe once or -twice alone lately.” - -“Perfectly natural,” said her Ladyship judicially. “He would be -interested in the farm for Dick’s sake. I like to go there myself. She -hasn’t spoilt the place.” - -“Nita called her ‘that woman’ to me just now,” said Mr. Fothersley -solemnly. - -Lady Condor raised her hand. “That settles it, of course! And now, dear -Arthur, what is to be done? We really cannot have one of those dreadful -performances that have unfortunately occurred in the past!” - -“I really don’t know,” said Mr. Fothersley. He was divided between -excitement and distress. “It is quite useless to talk to either of them. -Nita generally consults me, but she listens neither to reason nor -advice. And Roger only laughs or loses his temper.” - -“Yes,” agreed Lady Condor. “I think it depends on the state of his -liver. And as for poor Nita listening to reason on that subject—well—as -you say!” - -“If only she would not tell everybody it would not be so terrible.” - -“Ah, that is just the little touch of bourgeois,” said Lady Condor. “It -was wine, wasn’t it? Or was it something dried? And poor dear Roger is -really so safe—yes—he would be terribly bored with a real _affair de -cœur_. He would forget any woman for weeks if he were arranging a -combination of elements to see if they would blow each other up. And if -the poor woman made a scene, or uttered a word of reproach even, he -would be off for good and all—pouf—just like that. And what good is that -to any woman? I have told Nita so, but it is no good—no! Now if she had -been married to Condor! Poor darling, he is perfectly helpless in the -hands of anything in petticoats! It is not his fault. It is temperament, -you know. All the Hawkhursts have very inflammable dispositions. And -when he was younger, women were so silly about him! I used to pretend -not to know, and I was always charming to them all. It worked -admirably.” - -“I always admired your dignity, dear Marion,” said Mr. Fothersley. - -“_We_ have always shielded our men,” said Lady Condor, and she looked a -very great lady indeed. - -“Our day is passing,” said Mr. Fothersley sadly. “I deplore it very -much. Very much indeed.” - -“Fortunately”—Lady Condor pursued her reminiscences—“Condor has a sense -of humour, which always prevented him making himself really ridiculous: -that would have worried me. A man running round a woman looking like an -amorous sheep! Where are my glasses, Arthur? And who is that girl over -there, all legs and neck? Of course the present style of dress has its -advantages—one has nothing on to lose. But where was I? Something about -sheep? Oh yes, dear Condor. I have always been so thankful that when he -lost his figure—he had a very fine figure as a young man you remember—he -gave up all that sort of thing. You _must_, of course, if you have any -sense of the ridiculous. But about Roger and Miss Seer. She is a woman -with dignity. Now where can she have got it from? She seems to have been -brought up between an orphan clergy school and some shop—was it old -furniture?—something old I know. Not clothes—no—but something old. And -some one said she had been a cook. But one can be anything these days.” - -“She is of gentle birth,” said Mr. Fothersley. “Her mother, I gather, -was a Courthope, and the Seers seem to be quite good people—Irish I -believe—but of good blood. It always tells.” - -“You never know which way,” said her Ladyship sagely. “Now look at my -Uncle Marcus. Oh, there _is_ Miss Seer. Yes—I really don’t think we need -worry. It would be difficult to be rude to her. There, you see—dear Nita -is being quite nice! And Roger is quite safe with Condor and the pigs.” - -It was indeed late in the afternoon before North came upon Ruth, -watching a set of tennis. - -“You don’t play?” he asked. - -“I never had the chance to learn any of the usual things,” she said, -smiling. “I’m afraid I only came to-day with an ulterior motive. I want -you to show me a photograph of Dick Carey.” - -“That, oddly enough, was also in my mind,” he said, smiling too. “Come -into my study and find it for yourself.” - -He was conscious of a little pleasant excitement as they went, and also -of a curious uncertainty as to whether he wanted the experiment to -succeed or not. - -Ruth went in front of him through the French window and stood for a -while looking round her. She was not a slow woman, but nothing she did -ever seemed hurried. - -“What a delicious room!” she said. “And what a glory of books! And I do -like the way you have your writing-table. How much better than across -the window, and yet you get all the light. I may poke about?” - -“Of course.” - -She moved the writing-table and picked up a quaint letter-weight with -interest. The photograph she ignored. - -“I love your writing-chair,” she said. - -“It was my grandfather’s. The only bit I have of his. My parents cleared -out the whole lot when they married—too awful, wasn’t it?” - -“But your books are wonderful! Surely you have many first editions here. -Old Raphael would have loved them.” - -“The best of my first editions are on the right of the fireplace.” - -She turned, and then suddenly her face lit. Lit up curiously, as if -there were a light behind it. - -“Oh!” she said quite softly, then crossed to the fireplace and stood -looking at the photograph he had moved that afternoon from the -writing-table. - -She did not pick it up or touch it; only looked at it with wide eyes for -quite a long time. - -Then she turned to him. - -“That is the man I saw,” she said. “Now will you believe?” - -And at that moment the Horizon beyond Eternity did indeed approach -closer, approach into the realm of the possible. - -He admitted nothing, and she did not press it. She sat down in the big -armchair on the small corner left by Larry, who was curled up in it -asleep. He shifted a little to make more room for her and laid a gentle -feathered paw upon her knee. - -“That’s odd,” said North. “He won’t let anyone else come near my chair -when he’s in it.” - -“He knows I’m a link,” said Ruth, smiling. “I wish you could look on me -as that too.” - -“I do—but for purposes of research only. You mustn’t drive me too -quickly.” - -“I won’t. Indeed I won’t.” She spoke with the earnestness of a child who -has asked a favour. “I only want you just not to shut it all out.” - -“I’m interested, and that is as far as I can go at present. I wondered -if you would care to read a bit of Dick’s diary which I have here. It -came to me with other papers, and there are some letters here.” - -“Oh!” The exclamation was full of interest and pleasure. - -He gave her the small packet, smiling, and she held it between both her -hands for a moment looking at it. - -“They will be very sacred to me,” she said. - -He nodded. “One feels like that. It is only a small portion of a diary. -I fancy he kept one very intermittently. Dick was never a writer. But -the letter about von Schäde will interest you.” - -Ruth stood with her eyes fixed on the small packet. “Could you tell -me—would you mind—how it happened?” she said. - -“A shell fell, burying some of his men. He went to help dig them out. -Another shell fell on the same place. That was the end.” - -She looked up. Her eyes shone. - -“He was saving life, not taking it. Oh, I am glad.” - -She put the packet into the pocket of her linen skirt, gave him a little -smile, and slipped away almost as a wraith might slip. She wanted, -suddenly and overpoweringly, to get back to Thorpe.... - -Lady Condor, enjoying, as was her frequent custom, a second tea, said -quite suddenly, in the middle of a lament on the difficulty of obtaining -reliable cosmetics, “That is a clever woman!” - -Mr. Fothersley, who was honestly interested in cosmetics, tore his mind -away from them and looked round. - -“Who?” he asked. - -“Miss Seer. I have been watching, after what you told me. You have not -noticed? She has been in Roger’s study with him, only about ten -minutes—yes—but she has done it without Nita knowing. Look, she is -saying good-bye now. And dear Nita all smiles and quite pleasant. Nita -was playing croquet of course but even then—— Perhaps it was just -luck—but quite amazing.” - -Mr. Fothersley agreed. “Most fortunate,” he added. - -“You know, Arthur, she is not unattractive,” Lady Condor continued. “By -no means in her _première jeunesse_ and can never have been a beauty. -But there is something cool and restful-looking about her which some men -might like. You never know, do you? I remember once Condor was quite -infatuated for a few weeks, with a woman rather in the same style.” - -“But I thought you didn’t think——” began Mr. Fothersley. - -“Of course I don’t think—not really.” Lady Condor watched Ruth’s -farewells through her glasses. “That’s what is so stupid about all these -supposed affairs of Roger’s. There never is anything in them. So -stupid——” She stopped suddenly and looked sideways at him, rather the -look of a child found with a forbidden toy. - -“But——” began Mr. Fothersley, and stopped also. - -The two old friends looked at each other. - -“Arthur,” said Lady Condor. “I believe you are as bad as I am. Yes—don’t -deny it. I saw the guilt in your eyes. So funny—just as I discovered my -own. But so nice—we can be quite honest with each other.” - -“My dear Marion—I don’t——” Mr. Fothersley began to protest. - -“Dear Arthur, yes—you do. We both of us enjoy—yes—where are my glasses? -What a mercy you did not tread on them. But where was I? Yes. We both of -us enjoy these little excitements. Positively”—her shrewd old face -lighted up with mischief—“positively I believe we miss it when Roger is -not supposed to be carrying on with somebody. I discovered it in a flash -just this very moment! I do hope we don’t really hope there is something -in it all the time. It would be so dreadful of us.” - -“Certainly we do not,” said Mr. Fothersley, deeply pained but -associating himself with her from long habit. “Most certainly not! I can -assure you my conscience is quite clear. Really, you are allowing your -imagination to run away with you. We have always done our best to stop -Nita creating these most awkward situations.” - -“Yes, of course we have,” said Lady Condor soothingly. “I did not mean -that. But now where is Condor? Oh, he has walked home across the fields. -So good for his figure! I wish I could do the same for mine. Yes, Nita -has been quite nice to Miss Seer, and now Violet is seeing her off.” - -“I am motoring back to town to-night,” Violet Riversley was saying as -she shut the door of Ruth Seer’s little two-seater car, “or I would like -to come over to Thorpe. How is it?” - -“Just lovely,” said Ruth, smiling. “Be sure and come whenever you can.” - -She had taken off the brakes, put out the clutch and got into gear -before Violet answered. Then she laid her hand, as with a sudden -impulse, on the side of the car. - -“If one day I should—quite suddenly—wire to you and ask you to have me -to stay—would you?” she asked. - -“Why yes, of course,” said Ruth. - -“You might have other visitors—or be away.” - -“No, I shall not have other visitors, and I shall not be away.” - -The conveyances of other guests had begun to crowd the drive, and Ruth -had to give all her attention to getting her car out of a gate built -before the day of cars. It was only when she was running clear, down the -long slope from Fairbridge, that she remembered the curious and absolute -certainty with which she had answered Violet Riversley’s question. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - -The clouds of a thunderstorm were looming slowly up as Ruth motored -home, and soon after she got back a sudden deluge swept over Thorpe. In -ten minutes the garden paths were running with water unable to get into -the sun-baked ground and every hand on the farm was busy getting young -things into shelter. - -“I said we should have rain soon,” announced Miss McCox, after the -triumphant manner of weather prophets, as she brought in Bertram -Aurelius, busy trying to catch the falling silver flood with both hands. - -“He has never seen rain before to remember. Think of it!” said Ruth. -“And he isn’t a bit frightened. Where are the other children?” - -“A little wet, more or less, will do _them_ no harm,” replied Miss -McCox. “They’re more in the river than out of it, I’m thinking, bringing -in mess and what not.” She handed Bertram Aurelius, protesting for once -vigorously, through the kitchen window to his mother. “It’s the young -chicken up in the top field I’m after,” she added. - -Ruth laughed as she picked up Selina’s shivering little body which was -cowering round her feet, and ran for the river. She liked the rush of -the rain against her face, the eager thirst of the earth as it drank -after the long drought, the scent of the wet grass. It was all very -good. And if it only lasted long enough, it would make just all the -difference in the world to the hay crop. The thunder was muttering along -the hill-tops while she rescued the children from the shelter of a big -tree, helped Miss McCox with the young chicken, and hurriedly staked -some carnations which should have been done days ago; then she fled for -the house, barely in time to escape the full fury of the storm. - -“The carnations could have been left,” said Miss McCox, as she met her -at the front door. “There’s no sense in getting your feet soaked at your -age. I have a hot bath turned on for you and if you don’t go at once it -will be cold.” - -Bathed, dressed, and glowing with content of mind and body, Ruth watched -the end of the storm from the parlour window. The big clouds were -drifting heavily, muttering as they went, down towards the east, the -rain still fell, but softly now, each silver streak shining separately -in the blaze of sunlight from the west and presently, as Ruth watched, a -great rainbow, perfect and complete, arched in jewelled glory the sullen -blackness of the retreating storm. - -After her dinner she took the packet Roger North had given her, and sat -holding it between her hands in the big armchair by the window. The -beautiful gracious old room was filling with the evening shadows, but -here the light was still clear and full. The sunset lingered, although -already the evening star was shining brightly. Ruth sat there, as Dick -Carey must often have sat after his day’s work, looking across his -pleasant fields, dreaming dreams, thinking long thoughts, loving the -beauty of it all. - -Here he must have thought and planned for the good and welfare of the -farm. The crops and flowers and fruit, the birds and beasts. And in -those last days, of the children who should come, calling him father, to -own the farm one day, and love it as he had loved it. - -Masefield’s beautiful lines passed through Ruth’s mind: - - “If there be any life beyond the grave, - It must be near the men and things we love, - Some power of quick suggestion how to save, - Touching the living soul as from above.” - -She sat very still; the lamp, symbol of the Life Eternal, gleamed more -brightly as the shadows deepened. The glow in the west died away, and -the great stars shone with kindly eyes, just as it must have shone on -Dick Carey, sitting there dreaming too, loving the beauty of it all. - -And presently Ruth became conscious of other things. Curious and -poignantly there grew around her, out of the very heart of the -stillness, the sense of a great movement of men and things, the clash of -warring instincts, an atmosphere of fierce passions, of hatred and -terror, of tense anxiety, like an overstrained rod that must surely -break, and yet holds. A terrible tension of waiting for -something—something that was coming—coming—something that fell. She knew -where she was now; for, through all the drenched sweetness of the fields -and gardens, sickening, suffocating, deadly, came the smell of the Great -Battlefields of the world. All of it was there—the sweat of men, the -sour atmosphere of bivouac and dug-out, rotten sacking and wood, the -fumes of explosives, the clinging horror of gas, the smell of the -unattended death. It was all there, in one hideous whole. Shuddering, -clutching the letters tightly with clenched hands in her lap, Ruth was -back there again; again she was an atom in some awful scheme, again she -knew the dread approach. The wait.... Great roaring echoes rolled up and -filled all space. Sounds crashed and shattered, rent and destroyed. - -And then, through it all, Ruth felt—held it as it were between the hands -of her heart—something so wonderful it took her breath away, and she -knew it for what it was, through all the tumult, the horror, and the -evil, the strong determined purpose of a man for a certain end. It grew -and grew, in wonder and in glory, until her heart could no longer hold -it, could no longer bear it, for it became the strong determined purpose -of many men for a certain end. It joined and unified into a current of -living light and fire, and sang as it flowed, sang so that the sounds of -horror passed and fled and the melody of its flowing filled all space, -the sound of the great Song of the Return. - -She was no longer a lonely atom in a scheme she could not understand, no -longer a stranger and a pilgrim in a weary land, but part of an amazing -and stupendous whole, working in unison, making for an end glorious -beyond conception. Limits of time and space were wiped out, but when the -strange and wonderful happening had passed over, never then, or at any -later time, had she any doubt as to the reality of the experience. She -knew and understood, though, with the Apostle of old, she could have -said, “Whether in the body or out of the body I cannot tell.” - -But suddenly the body claimed her again, and Ruth Seer did what was a -very unusual thing with her—she put her face between her hands and cried -and cried till they were wet with tears, her whole being shaken as by -the passing of a great wind. - -When, some time later, she opened the packet she found the few pages of -diary much what she had somehow expected. Just the short notes of a man -pressed for every minute of his time, because every minute not given to -definite duty was spent with, or for, his men. His love and care for -them were in every line of those hasty scraps of writing, kept -principally, it seemed to Ruth, so that nothing for each one might be -forgotten. It was that personal touch that struck her most forcibly. Not -one of his men had a private trouble but he knew it and took steps to -help, not one was missing but he headed the search party if prior duties -did not prevent, not one died without him if it were in any way possible -for him to be there. That lean brown hand which she knew—had seen—what a -sure thing it had been to hold. From the little hastily scribbled scraps -it could be pieced together. That wonderful life which he, and many -another, had led in the midst of hell. The light was fading when she -took the letter out of its thin unstamped envelope, but Dick Carey’s -writing was very clear, each word somewhat unusually far apart. - - - “DEAR OLD ROGER (it ran),— - - “We have been badly knocked about, and are here to refit. Seven of - our officers killed and four wounded; 348 out of 726 men killed and - wounded—some horribly maimed—my poor fellows. This is butchery, not - war. The Colonel was wounded early in the day and I was in command. - Kelsey is gone, and Marriott, and little Kennedy, of those you knew. - Writing to mothers and wives is hard work. You might go and see Mrs. - Kelsey. She would like it. I have not a scratch and am well, but the - damnable horror of this war is past belief. I have told Vi as little - as possible, and nothing of the following. Poor von Schäde was - brought into our lines, strangely enough, last evening, terribly - mutilated. They had to amputate both legs and right arm at the - clearing station. I managed to get down after things were over to - see him. But he was still unconscious. We are in a ruined château on - the right of —— Forest. There is a lake in which we can bathe—a - godsend. - - “Just midnight; and while I write a nightingale is singing. It goes - on though the roar of the guns is echoing through the forest like a - great sigh, and even the crash of an occasional shell does not - disturb it. I suppose born and bred to it. My God, what wouldn’t I - give to wake up and hear the nightingales singing to the river at - Thorpe and find this was only an evil dream! - - “_20th._ Von Schäde is gone. I was with him at the end, but it was - terrible. I could not leave him and yet perhaps it would have been - better. He seemed mad with hatred. Poor fellow, one can hardly - wonder. It was not only himself, so mutilated, but he seemed - convinced, certain, that they were beaten. He cursed England and the - English. Me and mine and Thorpe. Even Vi. It was indescribably - horrible. The evil of this war incarnate as it were——” - - -The letter broke off, and ended with the scrawled initials - - - “Yrs., R. C.” - - -and an undecipherable postscript: - - - “Don’t tell Vi.” - - -Had he been called away hurriedly by the falling shell which had buried -his men? The envelope was addressed in another writing. She felt it must -have been so. Very swiftly he had followed the man who had died cursing -him and his, out into the world where thought and emotion, unclogged by -this physical matter, are so much the more powerful and uncontrolled. -Had they met, these two strong spirits, moving on different lines of -force, working for different ends? What had been let loose when Karl von -Schäde had died in that British clearing station, cursing “England and -the English, me and mine and Thorpe. Even Vi.” The great emotional -forces, so much greater than the physical body which imprisons them, -what power was there when freed; this hatred in a man of great and -cultivated intellect, whose aim had been no mean or contemptible thing, -whose aim had been power, what was that force on the other side of -death? How much could it accomplish if, with added knowledge, it so -willed? - -Ruth shivered in the warm June night. A sense of danger to the farm -stole over her. A warning of something sinister, impending, brooding, as -the great thunder-cloud had loomed up before it burst. She stepped out -over the low window-ledge on to the terrace, looked across the sleeping -beauty before her. Still she held the papers in her hand. A glimmering -moon was rising behind the trees, a little faint wind whispered among -the leaves. They made black patterns on the silvered grass as it moved -them very gently. The wind fell, and with it a great stillness. And out -of the stillness came to Ruth Seer a Word. - -She went back into the sitting-room, dark now except for the light of -the little lamp, and knelt before it, and prayed. - -And her prayer was just all the love and the pity she could gather into -her heart for the strong spirit that had gone out black, and bitter, and -tortured, and filled with hate. The spirit that had been Karl von -Schäde. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - -Thorpe was rich with the autumn yield before Violet Riversley claimed -Ruth’s promise. July had been on the whole a wet month, providing -however much-needed rain, but the August and September of Peace Year -were glorious as the late spring, and at Thorpe an abundant harvest of -corn was stored by the great stacks of scented hay. The apple and pear -trees were heavy with fruit. Blenheim Orange and Ribston Pippin with red -cheeks polished by much sun; long luscious Jargonelles and Doyenne du -Comice pears gleamed yellow and russet. The damson-trees showed purple -black amid gold and crimson plums. Mulberry and quince and filbert, -every fruit gave lavishly and in full perfection that wonderful autumn; -and all were there. Dick Carey had seen to that. The Blackwall children -came and went, made hay, picked fruit and reaped corn, as children -should. They gathered blackberries and mushrooms and hazel nuts, and -helped Ruth to store apples and pears, and Miss McCox to make much jam. -Bertram Aurelius got on his feet and began to walk, to the huge joy of -Sarah and Selina. The world was a pleasant place. Ruth moved among her -children and animals and fruit and flowers, and listened to her -nightingales, amid no alien corn, and sang the song old Raphael Goltz -had taught her long ago, in a content so great and perfect that -sometimes she felt almost afraid that she would wake up one morning and -and it all a dream. - -“It’s just like a fairy-tale that all this should come to me,” she said -to Roger North. - -The cottages were finished and tenanted, their gardens stored and -stocked with vegetables and fruit trees, and bright with autumn flowers, -from the Thorpe garden. Even Mr. Fothersley was reconciled to their -existence. - -Ruth had been to no more parties; the days at home were too wonderful. -She garnered each into her store as a precious gift. But the neighbours -liked to drop in and potter round or sit on the terrace. The place was -undoubtedly amazingly beautiful and perfect in its way. The friendliness -and trust of all that lived and moved at Thorpe appealed even to the -unreceptive. Here there were white pigeons that fluttered round your -head and about your feet. Unafraid, bright-eyed tiny beautiful birds -came close, so that you made real acquaintance with those creatures of -the blue sky, the leaf and the sunlight. So timid always of their -hereditary enemy through the ages, yet here the bolder spirits would -almost feed from your hand. Their charm of swift movement, of sudden -wings, seen so near, surprised and delighted. Their bright eager eyes -looked at you as friends. The calves running with their mothers in the -fields rubbed rough silken foreheads against you; and gentle -velvet-nosed cart-horses came to you over the gates asking for apples. -The children showed you their quaint treasures, their little play homes -in the trees and by the river. In their wood the Michaelmas daisies, -mauve and white and purple, were making a brave show, and scarlet -poppies, bad farmers but good beauties, bordered the pale gold stubble -fields. Everywhere was the fragrant pungent scent of autumn and the -glory of fruitful old Mother Earth yielding of her wondrous store to -those who love her and work for it. - -Mr. Pithey was fond of coming, and, still undaunted, made Ruth fresh -offers to buy Thorpe. - -“You’ve got the pick of the soil here,” he complained. “Now I’ve not a -rose in my place to touch those Rayon d’Or of yours. Second crop too! -And ain’t for want of the best manure, or choosing the right aspect. My -man knows what he’s about too. Better than yours does, I reckon. He was -head man to the Duke of Richborough, so he ought to.” - -Ruth’s eyes twinkled. - -“Try giving them away,” she suggested. - -“Givin’ ’em away!” Mr. Pithey glared at her. - -“Giving them away,” repeated Ruth firmly. “Now sit down here while I -tell you all about it.” - -Ruth herself was sitting on a heap of stubble by the side of the corn -field, with little Moira Kent tucked close to her side. - -Mr. Pithey had one of his little girls with him, and both were dressed -as usual in new and expensive clothing. They looked at Ruth’s heap of -stubble with evident suspicion, then the child advanced a step towards -her. - -“Are you going to tell us a story?” - -Ruth smiled. “If you like I will,” she said. - -The child’s rather commonplace pert little face broke into an answering -smile. She took out a very fine lace-bordered handkerchief and spread it -carefully on the ground. Then she sat down on it with her legs sticking -out in front of her. - -Mr. Pithey resigned himself to the inevitable, and let his well-groomed -heavy body gingerly down too. During the wet weather of July the little -blue-faced lady had contracted pneumonia and very nearly died. Racked -with anxiety, for family ties were dear to him, Mr. Pithey’s inflation -and self-importance had failed him, and between him and Ruth a queer -friendship had arisen. - -“She cared—she really cared,” he explained afterward to his wife. - -So Mr. Pithey showed himself to Ruth at his best, and though perhaps it -was not a very handsome best, the direct result was a row of cottages as -a thank-offering. - -“Once upon a time,” began Ruth, “there was a little Earth Elemental who -had made the most beautiful flower in all the world, or at least it -thought it was the most beautiful, so of course, for it, it _was_.” - -“What is an Earth Elemental?” asked Elaine Pithey. - -“The Earth Elementals are the fairies who help make the plants and -flowers.” - -“We don’t believe in fairies,” said Elaine primly. - -“She’s a bit beyond that sort of stuff,” added Mr. Pithey, looking at -the small replica of himself with pride. - -“Some people don’t,” answered Ruth politely, watching the little blue -butterflies among the pale gold stubble, with lazy eyes. Almost she -heard echoes of elfin laughter, high and sweet. - -“I’ve seen them,” Moira broke out very suddenly and to Ruth’s -astonishment. That Moira “saw” things she had little doubt, but even to -her the little lady was reticent. Something in the Puritan -self-complacence had apparently roused her in defence of her inner -world. - -“What are they like then?” asked Elaine, supercilious still, but with an -undercurrent of excitement plainly visible. - -“They’re different,” said Moira. “Some are like humming-birds, only -they’ve colours, not feathers, and some are like sweet-peas made of -starlight. But some of them are just green and brown—very soft.” - -“We took first prize for our sweet-peas at the flower show,” announced -Elaine suddenly and aggressively. - -“As big again as any other exhibit they were,” said Mr. Pithey, dusting -the front of his white waistcoat proudly. “You may beat us in roses, but -our sweet-peas are bigger, I’ll lay half a crown.” - -“Why don’t I see fairies any way, if you do?” asked Elaine, returning to -the attack now she had asserted her superiority. But Moira had withdrawn -into herself, bitterly repentant of her revelation. - -“Have you ever looked through a microscope?” Ruth asked, putting a -sheltering arm round the small figure beside her. - -Elaine looked at her suspiciously. - -“You mean there’s plenty I can’t see,” she said shrewdly. “But why don’t -I see fairies if she does?” - -Ruth smiled. “I am afraid as a rule they avoid us as much as possible. -You see, we human beings mostly kill and torture and destroy all the -things they love best.” - -“I don’t!” - -Ruth pointed to the tightly held bunch of dying flowers in the child’s -hand. - -“They’re only common poppies!” said Elaine contemptuously. - -Ruth took them from her, and, turning back the sheath of one of the -dying buds, looked at the perfect silken lining of it. - -“Some one took a lot of trouble over making that,” she said. “But -suppose you listen to my story.” Moira’s small hot hand crept into hers, -and she began again. - -“There was once a little Earth Elemental who had made the most beautiful -flower in the world. I think it was a crimson rose, and it had all the -summer in its scent. And the little Elemental wondered if it was -beautiful enough for the highest prize of all.” - -“At Battersea Flower Show?” asked Elaine. - -“No. The highest prize in the world of the Elementals is to serve. And -one day a child came and cut the rose very carefully with a pair of -scissors, and the Elemental was sad, for it had made the flower its home -and loved it very much. But the child whispered to the rose that it was -going into one of the dark places which men had made in the world, with -no sunshine, or summer, or joy, or beauty, to take them a message to say -that God’s world was still beautiful, and the sun and stars still shone, -and morning was still full of joy and evening of peace. Then the -Elemental was not sorry any more, for its rose had won the highest -prize.” - -Elaine’s Pithian armour had fallen from her; out of the little pert face -looked the soul of a child. She had lost her self-consciousness for the -moment. - -“And what became of the Elemental?” she asked. - -“The Elemental did not leave its home then. It went with it. And when -the rose had done its work and slipped away into the Fountain of all -Beauty, the Elemental slipped away with it too.” - -“Where is the Fountain of all Beauty?” - -“In the Heart of God.” - -Elaine looked disappointed. “Then it’s all an alle—gory, I s’pose.” - -“No, it’s quite true, or at least I believe it is. Mr. Pithey”—Ruth -turned on him and her grave eyes danced—“take a big bunch of your best -roses, a big bunch, mind, down to the Fairbridge Common Lodging House -for Women, in Darley Street, and tell the Elementals where you are -taking them. It will stir them up no end to give you better roses.” - -“The Common Lodging House!” Mr. Pithey was plainly aghast. “Why, they’d -think I was mad, and ’pon my word and honour I think you are—if you -don’t mind my saying so.” - -“Not a bit. I get told that nearly every day.” - -“I’ll tell the Elementals, Daddy, and you can take the roses, and then -we’ll see,” announced Elaine, who had been pondering the matter. - -Mr. Pithey regarded her with pride. “Practical that, eh?” he said. -“Well, we’ll think about it. But you’ll have to come along now or we’ll -be late for tea with mother. And as to the roses, I’ll beat you yet. -Elementals all nonsense! Dung—good rich dung—that’s what they want. You -wait till next year.” - -He shook hands warmly, and took his large presence away. - -Ruth sent Moira home to tea, and wandered up the hedgerow, singing to -her self, while Sarah and Selina hunted busily. On the terrace she found -Roger North. He looked worn and ill and bad tempered. It was some time -since he had been to see her. His wife’s jealousy of Ruth had culminated -in a scene and he had a dread of disturbing the peace of the farm. But -the silliness of the whole thing had irritated him, and he was worried -about Violet on whom the strange black cloud had descended again more -noticeably than ever. Riversley had gone to Scotland, writing him a -laconic note, “I’m better away—this is my address if you want me.” - -He drank his tea for the most part in silence, and when she had finished -hers Ruth left him and went about her work. North lit his pipe and sat -on smoking, while the two little dogs fought as usual for the possession -of a seat in his chair, edging each other out. And presently Bertram -Aurelius came staggering out of the front door and plump down on the -ground before him. His red hair shone like an aureole round his head and -he made queer and pleasant noises, gazing at North with friendly and -evident recognition. Larry came padding softly up from his favourite -haunts by the river and lay watching them with his wistful amber eyes. - -“Thank God for the blessed things that don’t talk,” said North. - -The deep lines on his face had smoothed out, his irritation subsided, he -no longer felt bad tempered. - -When Ruth came back he smiled at her. “Thank you, I’m better,” he said. -“When I arrived I wasn’t fit to ‘carry guts to a bear.’ You know -Marryat’s delightful story, of course? And how is the farm?” - -“Can’t you feel?” - -She stood in the attitude of one listening. And curiously and strangely -there came to North’s consciousness a something that all his senses -seemed to cognize and contract at once. It was not a sound, it was not a -vision, it was not a sensation, though it combined all three. Radiant -and sweet and subtle, and white with glory, it came and went in a flash. -Was it only a minute or eternity? - -“What was it?” His own voice sounded strange in his ears. - -Ruth smiled. “You felt it?” - -“I felt something. I believe you mesmerized me, you witch woman.” - -She shook her head. “I couldn’t make anyone feel that if I knew all the -arts in the world. Only yourself can find that for you.” - -“What was it, anyhow?” - -“I think”—she paused a moment—“I think it is getting into the Unity of -All.” - -“Where does the bad go to?” - -There was a moment’s silence between them. But the world of the farm was -alive with sound. The pigeons’ coo, the call of the cowman to his herd, -the chuckles of the baby, accompanied by the full evening chorus of -birds. - -“There isn’t any bad in there,” said Ruth. - -“Your farm is bewitched,” said North. “I might be no older than Bertram -Aurelius talking nonsense like this. Come down to earth, you foolish -woman. There’s a telegraph boy coming up the drive.” - -Ruth’s face clouded a little. “I have not got over the dread of -telegrams,” she said. “It takes one back to those dreadful days——” - -She shivered as they waited for the boy to reach them. He whistled as he -came, undisturbed by much clamour from Sarah and Selina; they were old -friends and he knew their ways. - -Ruth tore the envelope open, read the telegram, and handed it to North. -“May I come?” were its three short words, and it was signed “Violet -Riversley.” - -“You will have her?” said North. - -“Yes, of course.” Ruth penciled her answer on the prepaid form and -handed it to the boy. - -North heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s good of you. You know she has not -been well.” - -Ruth sat down and pointed to the other chair. - -“Tell me all you know. It may help.” - -North told her as well as he could. “It’s all so indefinite and -intangible,” he ended. “Sometimes I wonder if her mind is affected in -any way. From the shock Dick’s death was to her you know. That anyone -should be afraid of Vi! It seems ridiculous, remembering what she was. -She _isn’t herself_. That’s the only way I can describe it to you. Upon -my word sometimes lately I’ve almost believed she’s possessed by a -devil. But if she comes here—well, I don’t know why—but I think she will -get all right.” - -Ruth did not answer at first. She sat thinking, with her elbows on her -knees, her face hidden between her hands. - -That sense of danger to the farm had swept over her again. A warning as -of something impending, brooding; looming up like a great cloud on the -edge of her blue beautiful sky. Something strange and terrible was -coming, coming into her life and the life of the farm. And she could not -avert it, or refuse to meet it. Whatever it was it had to be met and -fought. Would it be conquered? For it was strong, terribly strong, and -it was helped by many. And while the moment lasted, Ruth felt small and -frightened and curiously alone. - -“What is the matter?” asked Roger North. His voice was anxious, and when -she looked up she met his eyes full of that pure and honest friendship -which is so good a thing, and so rare, between man and woman. Just so -might he often have looked at Dick Carey. - -She put out her hand to meet his, as a man might do on a bargain. “We -will do our best,” she said. - -And she knew that WE was strong. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - -“Yes, I am quite satisfied with things on the whole,” said Lady Condor. -“Dear Roger, you need not snort. Of course _you_ are a pessimist, so -nice! One of the lucky people who never expect anything, so are never -disappointed. Or you always expect everything bad, is it? and you are -never disappointed, because you think everything is bad! It doesn’t -sound right somehow, but you know what I mean.” - -“Certainly! It is quite clear,” said North, with commendable gravity. - -They were both calling at Thorpe, one cold afternoon early in October. -Ruth had a big log fire burning in the grate, in the room which still -seemed to belong to Dick Carey. Its warmth mingled with the scent from -big bowls-full of late autumn roses, lent a pleasing illusion of summer. -Lady Condor, wonderful to behold in the very latest thing in early -autumn hats, on which every conceivable variety of dahlia seemed -gathered together, sat by the fire talking of many things. - -“So nice of you to understand!” she exclaimed, nodding at North -genially. “That is the charm of talking to some one with brains. But -where was I? Oh yes! I am quite satisfied with things, because I see the -end of this horrible adoration of money. The Pithians have far surpassed -my wildest hopes. It has become positively discreditable to be very -wealthy. At last everyone begins to realize how truly vulgar has been -their idea. I have always resented this kow-towing down to money. It -gets the wrong people in everywhere, and no wonder the country goes to -the dogs, as my poor dear father used to say. Now why have we got Dunlop -Rancid as our member? Because he has brains to help govern? Certainly -not! He is our member because his father made a large fortune in -buttons—or was it bones?—perhaps it was bone buttons. But something like -that. And he subscribed largely to the party funds, so he represents us, -and when he took me into dinner last week he didn’t know where King -Solomon’s Islands were. Nor did I! But of course that was different. My -dear”—she looked suddenly at Violet Riversley—“why on earth don’t you -make Fred stand for Parliament? He has a fund of common sense which -would be invaluable to the country, and he has only to write a big -cheque for the party funds and there he will be.” - -Violet Riversley was curled—almost crunched—up in the armchair opposite -her Ladyship. She lifted her head when directly questioned and laughed a -little. It was not a nice laugh. It fell across the warm sweet-scented -room like a note from a jarred string. - -“Why should one bother?” she said. “The country is welcome to go to the -dogs for all I care. I’m sorry for the dogs, that’s all.” - -There was a little silence, a sense of discomfort. The bitterness -underlying the words made them forceful—of account. Lady Condor felt -they were in bad taste, and North got up, frowning irritably, and moved -away to the window. Violet, however, was paying no attention to either -of them. She was looking at Ruth, with her golden eyes full of something -approaching malice. - -“You go on playing with your little bits of kindness and your toys, and -think everything in the garden is lovely!” She laughed again, that -little hateful laugh. “And what do you suppose is really going on all -the time! You human beings are the biggest fraud on the face of the -earth!” - -Ruth started a little at the pronoun. Her serenity was disturbed; she -looked worried. - -“You talk of righteousness, and justice, and brotherhood, and all the -rest of the rotten humbug,” Violet Riversley went on, “and hold up your -hands in horror when other people transgress against your paper ideals. -But every nation is out for what it can make, every people will wade -through oceans of blood and torture and infamy if it thinks it can reap -any benefit from it. And why not? Survival of the fittest, that is -nature’s law. But why can’t you say so? Instead of all this hypocrisy -and pretence of high morals. You make me sick! What possible right have -you to howl at the Germans? You are all the same—England and France and -America—the whole lot of you. You have all taken by force or fraud. You -have all driven out by arms and plots weaker peoples than yourselves. I -don’t blame you for that—weaker people should go—it is the law of -nature. But don’t go round whining about how good you are to them. You -are just about as good to them as you are to your animals or anything -else weaker than yourselves. Why can’t you have the courage of your -brutality, and your lust, and your strength. It might be worth something -then. You might be great. As it is you are only contemptible—the biggest -fraud on the face of creation.” - -She faltered suddenly, and stopped. Ruth’s eyes had met hers steadily, -all the time she had been speaking; and now her hostess spoke slowly and -quietly, as one speaks to a little child when one wants to impress -something upon it. - -“Why do you talk like that, Violet Riversley?” she asked. “You know you -do not think like that yourself.” - -North, standing by the window, watched, with the fingers of a horrible -anxiety gripping him. His daughter’s face in the leaping firelight -looked like a twisted distorted mask. Lady Condor, open-mouthed, -comically perplexed, stared from one to the other, for once speechless. - -“It is the truth.” Violet Riversley uttered the words slowly, it seemed -with difficulty. - -“_You_ do not think so,” answered Ruth, still as one who would impress a -fact on a child. Then she rose from her chair. “Come!” she said, with a -strange note of command in her voice, “I know you will all like to walk -round the place before tea.” - -Violet passed her hand across her eyes, much as a person will do when -waking from the proverbial forty winks. She stood up, and shivered a -little. - -Ruth was talking, after a fashion unusual to her, almost forcing the -conversation into certain channels. “Yes, of course, you are very right, -Lady Condor,” she said. “No man can be valued truly until you see what -he can do just with his brain and his character and his own two hands. -Now I can give Violet a really fine character for work. As a matter of -fact I am filled with jealousy. She can milk quicker than I can. I think -because she learnt when she was quite young. Mr. Carey taught her.” - -“Poor dear Dick! He did teach the children such queer things,” said Lady -Condor, allowing herself to be assisted out of her comfortable chair by -the fire without protest. “But who was it learnt to milk? Some one quite -celebrated. Was it Marie Antoinette? Or was it Queen Elizabeth? It must -be just milking time; let us go, dear Violet, and see you milk. It will -interest us so much,” she added, with that amazing tact which no one -except those who knew her best ever realized. - -Violet followed them into the garden without speaking. Her eyes had a -curious vacant look; she moved like a person walking in her sleep. - -Lady Condor took Ruth’s arm and dropped behind the others on the way to -the farmyard. “My dear,” she said, “I don’t know what’s the matter, but -I see you wish to create a diversion. Poor dear Violet, I have never -heard her talk such nonsense before. Rather unpleasant nonsense too, -wasn’t it? Can it be she has fallen in love with one of those dreadful -Socialist creatures? I believe they can sometimes be quite attractive, -and the young women of the present day are so _outré_, you never know -who or what they will take up with. Besides, I believe they wash -nowadays. The Socialists I mean, of course. In my day they thought it -showed independence to appear dirty and without any manners. So funny, -was it not? But I met one the other day who was charming. Quite good -looking and well dressed, even his boots. Or, let me see, was he a -Theosophist? There are so many ‘ists’ now, it is difficult not to get -them mixed up. But where was I? Oh yes—dear Violet! Where can she have -got those queer ideas from? I do hope she is not attracted by some -‘ist.’ I so often notice that when a woman gets queer opinions there is -either a man, or the want of a man, at the bottom of it. And it cannot -be the latter with dear Violet. Ah, now here we are. Don’t the dear -things look pretty? And you have such a lovely milking shed for them. -Violet, you really must show me how you milk. I should like to begin -myself. But don’t you have to lean your head against the cow?—and it -would ruin my dahlias.” - -“Come and see the real dahlias instead,” said Violet, laughing. “Yours -are the most wonderful imitation I have ever seen. I don’t believe you -could tell them from the real ones. Where did you get them? Madame -Elsa?” - -Her voice and manner were wholly natural again. North looked palpably -relieved, but when his daughter had disappeared with Lady Condor towards -the flower garden he turned anxiously to Ruth. - -“Does she often talk like that?” he asked. “It is so unlike her—so -absolutely unlike—” He stopped, his eyes searched Ruth’s, and for a -moment there was silence. “What is it?” he asked. - -They were wandering now, aimlessly, back to the house. - -“If I were to tell you what I think,” said Ruth slowly, “you would call -me mad.” - -“You don’t mind that.” He spoke impatiently. “Tell me.” - -“Not yet—wait. Did anything strike you when she burst out like that just -now?” - -North did not answer. He had ridden over and still held his whip in his -right hand. He struck the fallen rustling leaves backwards and forwards -with it as he walked, with the sharp whish expressive of annoyance and -irritation. - -“You women are enough to drive a man crazy between you,” he said. - -This being plainly no answer to her question Ruth simply waited. - -“How often has she talked in that strain?” North asked at length. - -“Twice only, before to-day.” - -“And you—call her back to herself—as you did just now?” - -“Yes.” - -They had reached the terrace, and he stood facing her. He searched her -eyes with his as he had done before. - -“It is not possible,” he said, but the words lacked conviction. - -Ruth said nothing. Her eyes were troubled, but they met his steadily. - -Then at last North told her. “It might have been Karl von Schäde -speaking,” he said. - -“Come indoors,” she said gently. - -He followed her into the warm rose-scented room and sat down by the -fire, shivering. She threw more logs upon it, and the flames shot up, -many-hued, rose and amber, sea-green and heliotrope. - -“Tell me what you think, what you know,” said North. - -Ruth looked into the leaping mass of flame, her face very grave. Her -voice was very low, hardly above a whisper. - -“I think the hatred in which Karl von Schäde passed into the next world -has found a physical instrument through which to manifest here,” she -said. - -“And that instrument is—good God!” North’s voice was sharp with horror. -“It isn’t possible—the whole thing is ridiculous. But go on. I heard -to-day. That has happened twice before you say. You suspected then, of -course. Is there anything else?” - -And even as he spoke, things, little things, that Violet had said and -done, came back to him. The shrinking of the dogs, his own words—“She is -not herself”—took on new meaning. - -“There is a blight upon the farm since she came,” said Ruth. “The joy -and peace are not here as they were. Perhaps you would not feel it, -coming so seldom.” - -“Yes, I noticed it. But Violet has not made for peace of late. I thought -it was just her being here.” - -“The children don’t care to come as they did, and there have been -quarrels. The creatures are not so tame. Nothing is doing quite so well. -These are little things, but taken all together they make a big whole.” - -“Anyway it’s not fair on you,” said North shortly. “The place is too -good to spoil, and you——” - -In that moment, the supreme selfishness with which he and his had used -her for their own benefit, as some impersonal creature, that could not -be weary or worried or overtaxed, came home to him. He felt suddenly -ashamed. - -Ruth smiled at him. “No,” she said. “The farm, I, you, are all just -instruments too, as she has become, poor child. Only we are instruments -on the other side.” Her voice dropped, and he leant forward to catch the -words. “Dick Carey’s instruments; we cannot fail him.” - -“Then you think——” - -“See!” She held herself together, after her queer fashion, as a child -does when thinking hard. “You remember in the letter about von Schäde, -when Mr. Carey wrote: ‘he died cursing England, the English, me and mine -and Thorpe. It was like the evil of this war incarnate.’ Do you think -that force of emotion perished with the physical, or do you think the -shattering of the physical left it free? And remember too, Karl von -Schäde had studied those forces, had learnt possibly something of how to -handle them. Then Violet, Violet whom he had loved, after his own -fashion, and to whom he would therefore be drawn——” - -“But if there is any justice, here or there,” broke in North, “why -should she become the brute’s instrument?” - -“Because she too was filled with hate. Only so could it have been -possible. Think for a minute and you will see.” - -In his youth, North had been afflicted with spasms of stammering. One -seized him now. It seemed part of the horror which was piercing the -armour in which he had trusted, distorting with strange images that -lucid brain of his, so that all clear train of thought seemed to desert -him. He struggled painfully for a few moments before speech returned to -him. - -“D—damn him. D—damn him. Damn him,” he said. - -Ruth sprang up, and laid her hand across his mouth. Fear was in her -eyes. He had never thought to see her so moved, she who was always so -calm, so secure. - -“For pity’s sake stop,” she said; “if you feel like that you must go. -You must not come here again. You must keep away from her. Oh, don’t you -see you are helping him? I ought not to have told you; I did not realize -it might fill you with hate too.” - -“I’m sorry,” said North harshly. “I’m afraid anything else is beyond -me.” - -He had given up all attempt to insist that it was impossible. The -uncanny horror had him in its grip. He felt that he had bidden farewell -to common sense. - -Ruth grew imperative. “For God’s sake, try!” she said. “Don’t hate. -Don’t curse him like that. Don’t you see—you cannot overcome hate with -hate; you can only add to it. I find it so hard myself not to feel as -you do. But oh, don’t you see, all his life Dick Carey must have loved, -in a small far-off way of course, as God loves. And everything that -lived and moved and breathed came within the scope of his tenderness and -his pity. And That which was himself did not perish with the physical -either. That too is free—free and fighting. You can only overcome hate -with love. But on a physical plane, even God Himself can only work -through physical instruments.” - -She stopped, and looked at North imploringly. - -“I have your meaning,” he said more gently. Her sudden weakness moved -him indescribably. - -“And the worst of it is,” she went on, “I have lately lost that sense of -being in touch with him. You remember how I told you about it. It came, -I thought, through us both loving the farm, but indeed I did know, in -some strange way, what he wanted done and when he was pleased. You will -remember I told you. If I could feel still what was best to do, but it -is like struggling all alone in the dark! Only one thing I know, I hold -to. You cannot overcome hate with hate. You can only overcome hate with -love. But the love is going out of the farm. It was so full of it—so -full—I could hear it singing always in my heart. But now there is -something awful here. I can sense it in the night, I can feel it in all -sorts of ways. The peace has gone that was so beautiful, the radiance -and the joy. And always now I have instead the sense of great struggle, -and some evil thing that threatens.” - -“It is not fair on you or on the farm,” said North, very gently now. -“Violet ought to leave.” - -“I don’t know. Sometimes I have thought so—and yet—I don’t know. I am -working in the dark. I know so little really of these things—we all know -so little.” - -“Her presence is injuring the farm, or so it seems. Indeed, it must be -so. A human being full of hate and misery is no fit occupant for any -home. Also we have no right——” - -Ruth looked at him, and again he felt ashamed. “I beg your pardon,” he -said. - -“We have the sort of right that you acknowledge, I know, but I don’t -think we should claim it.” - -“She came to me, or rather, I think, to the farm, to the nearest she -could get to him. Or again, it might be the other force driving her. I -don’t know. But I can’t send her away. I think of it sometimes, but I -know I can’t.” - -“What is she like on the whole?” - -“Dull and moody sometimes, wandering about the place, hardly speaking at -all. Once or twice she stayed in her room all day and refused all food. -But at other times she will follow me about wherever I go, clinging to -me like a child, eager to help. Sometimes she will commit some horrible -little cruelty, and be ashamed of it afterwards and try to hide it. If -she could speak of it at all, confide in anyone it would be better I -think. But she does not seem able to.” - -North sat staring into the fire with haggard eyes, the deep lines of his -face very visible as the flames leapt and fell. - -“It will send her out of her mind if it goes on,” he said at length. - -Ruth did not answer. Her silence voiced her own exceeding dread; it -seemed to North terrible. If she should fail he knew that it would be -one of the worst things which had ever happened to him. In that moment -he knew how much she had come to stand for in his mind. He kept his eyes -upon the fire and did not look at her. He dreaded to see that fear again -in her eyes, dreaded to see her weak. It was as if the evil of the world -was the only powerful thing after all. And he knew now that he had begun -to hope, things deep down in his consciousness had begun to stir, to -come to life. - -But presently Ruth spoke again, and, looking up, he met the old -comforting friendliness of her smile. Her serenity had returned. Her -face looked white and very worn, but it was no longer marred with fear. - -“I am sorry,” she said, “and I am ashamed to have been so foolish, to -have let myself think for a moment that we should fail. Hate is very -strong and very terrible; but love is stronger and very beautiful. Let -us only make ourselves into fit instruments for its power. We _must_. If -Karl von Schäde lasts beyond, so too, more surely still, does Dick -Carey. Why should we be afraid? Will you give to Karl von Schäde the -instruments for his power and deny them to the friend you loved? And is -it so difficult after all? Think what he must have suffered, his poor -body broken into pieces, his mind full of anguish that his country was -ruined, beaten, and full of the horrors he had seen and which he -attributed to us. Think of those last awful hours of his, and have you -at least no pity? Try for it, reach out for it, get yourself into that -mind which you knew as Dick Carey. Take Karl van Schäde into it too in -your thought.” - -She stopped, her voice broken, but the light that shone in her face was -like a star. - -“I will try,” said Roger North. - -In the pause that followed the approaching clatter of Lady Condor’s -re-entry was almost a relief. She brought them back into the regions of -ordinary everyday things. Violet, too, was laughing, getting more like -herself. The tension relaxed. - -“Miss Seer, if I had planted my dahlias among yours, really you would, -never have found it out. They are an amazing imitation—quite amazing. -Condor thinks my taste in hats too loud. But if men had their way we -should all dress in black. So depressing! Tea? I should love it. But no, -I cannot stay. I have a duty party at home. So dull, but Condor is -determined that Hawkhurst shall stand for the Division now he is safely -tucked away in the other House himself. All the old party business is -beginning again, just as if there had been no war, when we were all -shrieking ‘No more party politics.’ ‘No more hidden policies.’ So like -us, isn’t it? I shall put Caroline Holmes in the chair at all the -women’s meetings. She does so love it—and making speeches. Yes. She is -to marry her Major this autumn, but she assures me it will not ‘curtail -her activities.’ Curtail! so nice! But where was I? Oh yes, my -tea-party, and I would so much rather stay here. I remember I was just -going to be clever, and what happened? Oh, we went out to see Violet -milk, and we saw the dahlias instead. Good-bye. Good-bye. And come soon -to see me.” - -So Lady Condor conveyed herself, talking steadily, outside the -sitting-room, with Roger North in attendance carrying her various -belongings. But as she progressed across the hall, and into her waiting -car, she fell upon a most unusual silence. It was not until she was well -settled in that she spoke again. - -“I don’t like Violet’s looks, Roger,” she said then, her shrewd old eyes -very kindly. “Why are there no babies? There should always be a nursery -full of babies for the first ten years of a woman’s married life. And -where is Fred? You should speak to him about it.” - -She waved a friendly hand at him, various articles falling from her lap -as she did so, and the car rolled away. - -North gave a little snort of bitter laughter as he turned back into the -house. Fred? Fred was eating his heart out, catching salmon in Scotland; -and Violet was at Thorpe, obsessed by a dead man’s hatred. He was filled -with all a man’s desire to cut the whole wretched business summarily, -but the thing had got him in its devilish meshes, and there was no -escape. He stayed to tea because he felt he must help Ruth, and yet with -the uneasy consciousness that he was doing rather the reverse. Violet -had fallen into one of the moody silences so common to her now, and, -after she had had her tea, went back to her chair by the fire and a -book. Ruth and Roger talked of the farm intermittently and with a sense -of restraint, and presently Violet tossed her book on to the opposite -chair and left the room. - -“What is she reading?” asked Roger. - -He crossed to the fire and picked the book up. It was _The Road to -Self-Knowledge_, by Rudolph Steiner, and on the flyleaf, neatly written -in a stiff small writing, “K. von Schäde.” Then Roger suddenly saw red. -The logs still burnt brightly in the grate, and with a concentrated -disgust, so violent that it could be felt, he dropped the book into the -heart of the flames and rammed it down there with the heel of his riding -boot. The smell of burnt leather filled the room before he lifted it, -and watched, with grim satisfaction, the printed leaves curl up in the -heat. - -He made no apology for the act, though presumably the book was now -Ruth’s property. - -“That will show you just how much help I’m likely to be,” he said. -“Always supposing that you are right. And now I’d better go.” - -Ruth smiled at him. The child in man will always appeal to a woman. -“Yes, go,” she said. “I will let you know if there is anything to tell.” - -North rode home with all the little demons of intellectual pride and -prejudice, of manlike contempt for the intangible, whispering to him, -“You fool.” - -His wife made a scene after dinner about his visit to the farm. She -resented Violet having gone there. It had aroused her jealousy, and her -daughter came under the lash of her tongue equally with her husband. -Then North lost his temper, bitterly and completely; they said horrible -things to each other, things that burn in, and corrode and fester after, -as human beings will when they utterly lose control of themselves. It -ended, as it always did, in torrents of tears on Mrs. North’s side, -which drove North into his own room ashamed, disgusted, furious with her -and himself. - -He opened the windows to the October night air. It was keen, with a hint -of frost. The thinned leaves showed the delicate tracery of branches, -black against the pale moonlit sky. The stars looked a very long way -off. Utterly sick at heart, filled with self-contempt for his outbreak -of temper, struggling in a miasma of disgust with life and all things in -it, he leant against the window-sill; the keen cool wind seemed to -cleanse and restore. - -A little well-known whine roused him, to find Vic scratching against his -knee. He picked her up, and felt the small warm body curl against his -own. She looked at him as only a dog can look, and, carrying her, he -turned towards the dying embers of the fire and his easy chair. Then he -stopped, remembering, noticing, for the first time, that Larry had not -come back with him. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - -North did not visit the farm again. He sent Ruth a brief line: “I am -better away.” That he made no apology and expressed no thanks gave her -the measure of his trust in her and her friendship. - -She answered his brief communication by one equally brief: “Try not to -think of it at all if you cannot think the right way.” - -So North buried himself in his work, forced and drove himself to think -of nothing else. Slept at night from sheer weariness, and grew more -haggard and more silent day by day. At least if he could not be on the -side of the angels he would not help the devils. - -The month was mostly wild and wet, with here and there days of supreme -beauty. It was on one of these, the last day of October, that Ruth and -Violet went, as they often did, for a long tramp through the wet woods -and over the wind-swept hills towards the sea. The atmosphere was that -exquisite clearness which often follows much rain. The few leaves -remaining on the trees, of burnished golden-brown, came falling in soft -rustling showers with each gust of the fresh strong wind. They had -walked far, so far that they had come by hill and dale as the crow flies -to where the fall of the ground came so abruptly as to hide the middle -distance, and the edge of the downs, broken by its low dark -juniper-bushes, stood before them, clear-cut, against the great sweep of -coastline far away beneath. Pale gold and russet, the flat lands -stretched, streaked with the sullen silver of sea-bound river and -stream, to where, like a hard steel-blue line on the horizon, lay the -sea itself. And behind that straight line, black and menacing, and -touched with a livid ragged edge, rolled up the coming of a great storm. - -It made a noble picture, and Ruth watched it for a few moments, her face -responding, answering to its beauty. She loved these landscapes of -England, loved them not only with her present self, but also with some -far-away depth of forgotten experience. And it seemed to her that she -loved with them also those “unknown generations of dead men” to whom -they had been equally dear. For these few moments, as she looked out -over the edge of the downs, she forgot the haunting evil which was -darkening all her days, forgot everything but the beauty of great space, -of the wild rushing wind, the freedom—the escape. - -Odd bits of quotations came to her, as they always did in these moments; -one, more insistent than the others, sang, put itself into music, clear, -bell-like, mysterious: - - “When I have reached my journey’s end, - And I am dead and free.” - -And in that moment her sense of being in touch with Dick Carey came back -to her. Came flooding in like a great tide of help and encouragement and -power. - - “And I am dead and free.” - -And yet people were afraid of death! - -The great winds came up from the sea across the earth-scented downs, -shouting as they came. She loved them, and the big dark masses of cloud. -She could have shouted too, for joy of that great sense of freedom, of -power, of control, because she was one with those magnificent forces of -nature. In her too was that strength and freedom which bowed only to the -One who is All. - -The blood tingled in her veins; in the full sweep of the wind she was -warm—warm with life. She forgot Violet Riversley cowering at her side. -Forgot the little dogs crouching, tucked against her feet, and swept for -one wild moment out into the immensity of a great freedom. Then, -suddenly, the steel-blue line of sea broke into white, the storm-clouds -met and crashed, and lightning, like the sharp thrust of a living sword, -struck across the downs, struck and struck again. Heaven and earth and -the waters under the earth shuddered and reeled in the grip of the -storm, and Violet Riversley, screaming with terror, fell on her knees by -Ruth, clasping her, crying: - -“Keep it away from me! Keep it away! God! I can’t bear it any longer! -Keep it away!” - -And at her cry all the motherhood in Ruth’s nature, never concentrated -only on the few, leapt into full life and splendour, spread its white -wings of protection. And away and beyond her own love and pity she felt -that of another. Away and above her own fight was a greater fight, -infinitely greater. She picked the girl up into the shelter of her arms, -and her whole heart cried out in a passion of pity. She said odd little -foolish words of tenderness, as mothers will, for the form she held was -as light as that of a little child; just a shell it felt, nothing more. - -And then, suddenly, the rain fell in one blinding rushing flood, -drenching the little group to the skin, blotting out everything with its -torrential flow. - -“Ah, look!” said Ruth, almost involuntarily. A great flash of light had -broken through from the west, and against the violet black sky the rain -looked like a silver wall. It was amazingly, even terribly, beautiful. - -“We are in for a proper ducking,” she said, trying to regain the normal. -“Wet to the skin already, all of us. And Sarah and Selina frightened to -death, the little cowards! You’d better keep moving, dear. Come along.” - -It seemed a weary way home. Never had Ruth been more thankful for the -presence of Miss McCox in her household. Fires, hot baths, hot coffee, -all were ready; and she dried even Selina, though surreptitiously, -behind the kitchen door that none might behold her weakness, with her -own hand. She put Violet to bed after her hot bath, and ordered her to -stay there. Nothing but asserting herself forcibly kept Ruth from a like -fate. - -“Them as will be foolish, there is no reasoning with,” said Miss McCox, -with dignity, and retreated to the kitchen muttering like the storm. - -After a lull, it had returned again with renewed force. The old house -rocked as the great wind hurled itself upon it, shrieking against the -shuddering windows as if demanding admittance. Sheets of wild rain broke -upon the panes, and every now and then the thunder crashed and broke and -rent. After her dinner Ruth went up and sat by the log fire in Violet’s -room. The pillow on which she lay was hardly whiter than the girl’s -face. Her great gold eyes gazed out into the shadows blankly. Very small -and young and helpless she looked, and Ruth’s heart ached for her. She -chatted on cheerfully, as she wove a woollen garment for some little -child of France with her ever-busy fingers; chatted of the little things -about the farm; told little quaint stories of the animals and flowers. -Had she known it, just so had Dick Carey often talked, in the winter -evenings over the fire, to the listening children. But Violet Riversley -just lay still, gazing into the shadows, taking little notice. She made -no allusion to her violent attack of terror out in the storm, and it -grew on Ruth uncannily and horribly that the girl who had clung to her, -crying for help, had slipped away from her again, somewhere out into the -darkness and silence, torn from all known anchorage. - -The little dogs had remained in their baskets downstairs; only Larry had -followed her up, and lay across the doorway, his nose upon his paws, his -eyes gleaming watchfully out of the shadow. Every now and then, when the -shattering wind with increasing violence struck against the house again -and again and wailed away like a baffled spirit, he growled in his -throat as at a visible intruder. - -It was late before Ruth gathered her work up and said good-night. She -was honestly tired in mind and body, but an unaccountable reluctance to -leave Violet held her. And yet the girl was apparently less restless, -more normal, than usual. Tired out, like herself, surely she would -sleep. Her terror out in the storm seemed entirely to have gone. - -So Ruth reasoned to herself as she went downstairs. - -In the sitting-room the little dogs slept soundly in their baskets. The -fire still burned, a handful of warm red ashes. The whole place seemed -full of peace and comfort, in marked contrast to the rush and wail of -the storm outside. Ruth crossed to the lamp to see that it was in order, -and moved about putting little tidying touches to the room, as women do -the last thing before they go upstairs to bed. She was fully alive to -the fact that the three weeks of Violet’s visit had been a heavy strain -on her, mentally and bodily. It would be quite easy to imagine things, -to let this knowledge that she was fighting steadily, almost fiercely, -against some awful unseen force overwhelm her, to drive her beyond the -limits of what was sanely and reasonably possible. With her renewed -sense of awareness of Dick Carey’s presence had come an indefinable -yearning tenderness for Violet Riversley which had been lacking before -in her kindly interest and friendship. To give way to fear or dread was -the surest way to fail in both. - -She looked out at the night. By the light streaming from the window she -could see a streak of rain-washed lawn, and, dimly, beyond, the tortured -branches of trees bowed and strained under the whip of the wind. She -drew all the forces of her mind to the centre of her being. - -“Lord of the heights and depths, Who dwellest in all the Forms that Thou -hast made.” - -She let the blind fall into its place and moved back into the room. -Larry had settled himself in the big armchair which had been Dick -Carey’s. She stooped to stroke his head, and he looked at her with eyes -that surely understood. - -“Lord of the heights and depths, Who dwellest in all the Forms that Thou -hast made.” - -She kept the words and the thought in her mind quite steadily. Almost as -soon as she lay down she passed into sleep, and dreamt—dreamt that she -was walking in the buttercup field with Dick Carey and it was early -morning in the heart of the springtime. And he told her many things, -many and wonderful and beautiful things, which afterwards she tried to -recall and could not. And then, suddenly, he was calling to her from a -distance, and she was broad wide awake sitting up in bed, and Larry in -the room below barked fiercely, then was silent. - -The next instant she had thrown her dressing-gown over her shoulders and -was running bare-footed across the landing and down the stairs. Midway -across the big old hall she stopped dead, for on her had fallen, swiftly -and terribly, that old horror of her small childhood, a sense of -all-pervading blackness. It gripped her as forcibly as it had done in -those far-off days. Again she was a small utterly helpless thing in its -hideous clutch. The light streaming from under the sitting-room door -accentuated the blackness, gleamed evilly, assumed a sinister and -terrible importance. - -Almost she turned and fled—fled out of the door behind her into the -storm-swept night, away to the clean air, to the darkness which was full -of beauty and healing. Not this—this that stifled, and soiled, and -buried. Away—anywhere—anyhow—from what was behind that flickering evil -light, which made the hideous blackness visible as well as tangible. - -Almost, but not quite. That which the long years of patience and -endurance had built into her, held. Dick Carey had called to her. What -if he were in there, fighting, fighting against odds. For the world was -full of this Evil let loose, the vibrations became palpable, engulfed -her, beat her down. For a moment that seemed endless she fought for more -than physical life. - -Then she moved forward again, and it was as in dreams when feet are -leaden-weighted and we move them with an effort that seems past our -strength. But she did not hesitate again. Steadily she opened the door. -Dragging those leaden feet she went in and closed it behind her. - -A blast of hot air met her, insufferably hot. Some one had made up the -fire again. Piled high with logs it burnt fiercely. The room was in -disorder. In the far corner by the south window the little dogs lay -cringing with terror, trembling, while before them Larry crouched, his -white fangs bare, his lips lifted till the gums showed, his blazing eyes -fixed on the figure in the centre of the room—the figure of Violet -Riversley. - -Before her, piled on the floor, were various articles, books and papers, -gathered together and heaped in the shape of a bonfire. At her feet lay -the bronze lamp. In her right hand she held the wick, still alight. -Curiously, the light from the blazing logs played on the long folds of -her white gown. Almost it seemed as if she were clothed in flame. - -It was more subconsciously than in any other way that Ruth took in these -details, for every sense she had—and all had become most acutely -alive—concentrated on the terrific and hideous fact that, enveloping -Violet, encasing her as it were, was a great outstanding Figure or -Presence. Fear gripped her to the soul like ice. She could have screamed -with very terror, but she was beyond the use of the body, beyond, it -seemed, all help. For the entity that was not Violet Riversley, very -surely not Violet Riversley, but a being infinitely stronger and more -powerful, looked at her with the eyes of a soul self-tortured, -self-maimed, and she saw in all their terrific hideousness Hate and -Revenge incarnate. - -And as she looked a worse horror gripped her. The Thing was trying to -master her, to make her its instrument, even as it had made Violet -Riversley. The very hair of her head rose upon it as she felt her grip -on herself loosening, weakening. Her individuality seemed to desert her, -to disintegrate, to disappear. - -It might have been a moment; it might have been an eternity. - -Then, as from a long way off, she heard Larry give a strange cry. -Something between a howl and a bay its vibration stirred the air through -miles. The cry of the wolf to the pack for help. The old dog had stood -up, his jowl thrust forward, his body tense, ready for the spring. - -With a final desperate effort, which seemed to tear her soul out of her -body, Ruth cried too—cried to all she had ever thought or dreamed or -held to of Good; and in that moment her awareness of Dick Carey suddenly -became acute. Afterwards, in her ordinary consciousness, Ruth always -found it impossible to recapture, or in any way adequately to remember, -the sensations of the next overwhelming moment. Not only were they -beyond speech they seemed beyond the grip of ordinary thought. - -After that moment of supreme terror, of incredible struggle, with the -acute return of her awareness of Dick Carey, with some crash of warring -elements and forces, mingling as part of and yet distinct from the -raging of the outside storm, she regained Herself. Was out as it were, -in illimitable space, fighting shoulder to shoulder, hand to hand, one -with Dick Carey. One, too, with some mighty force, fighting gloriously, -triumphantly, surely; fighting through all the Ages, through all the -Past, on through all the Future, beyond Space and beyond Time. - -Then, suddenly, she was carried out—in no other way could she describe -it afterwards—out of the stress and the battle on a wave of very pure -and perfect compassion into the heart of a radiance before which even -the radiance of the fullest sunlight would be as a rush candle. And into -that infinite radiance came too the deadly hatred, the unspeakable -malice, the craving for revenge, the bitterness, the rebellion—came and -was swallowed up, purified, transmuted. In a great and glorious moment -she knew that the Force was one and the same, and that it is the motive -power behind which makes it Good or Evil. - -Then the outside storm concentrated and fell in one overwhelming crash. -The house rocked, and rocked again. Ruth, mechanically stepping forward, -caught in her arms a body which fell against her almost like a paper -shell. Very swiftly she carried it out into the hall. Her normal senses -were suddenly again acute; they worked quickly. And on the stair, -infinitely to her relief, appeared the shining polished countenance of -Miss McCox. Her attire defied description, and in her hands she held, -one in each, at the carry, the proverbial poker and tongs. Behind her -came Gladys, open-mouthed, dishevelled, likewise fully armed, and -accomplishing a weird sound which appeared to be a combination of -weeping and giggling. - -Ruth struggled with delightful and inextinguishable laughter, which she -felt might very easily degenerate into hysterics, for she was shaking in -every limb. - -“No, no; it is not burglars!” she said. “Put those things down, and take -Mrs. Riversley. She has been walking in her sleep, and I am afraid has -fainted. You know what to do. I must telephone the doctor.” - -In her mind was the immediate necessity of dealing with that sinister -bonfire before it could work damage, also before any eyes but her own -should see it. - -The lighted wick had fallen on to papers sprinkled with the oil, and -already, when she returned to the sitting-room, little tongues of flame -were alight and a thin pillar of smoke crowned its apex. She dealt -swiftly with it with the heavy rugs luckily to her hand, and when the -creeping fire was crushed out and stifled she put the injured remains of -treasured books and ornaments hurriedly into the drawers of the big -bookcase. The damage to the carpet there was no possibility of -concealing, and after a moment of thought she took one of the charred -logs, black and burnt out, and scattered it where the pile had been. -Then she took the wick in which the light still burned, true symbol of -the Life Eternal, and restored it and the lamp to its own place, drew -back the curtains, and opened the great window looking south. - -It was early morning. The storm was riding away in broken masses of -heavy cloud. Drenched and dim, and covered with a rising silver mist, -the racked world rested in a sudden calm. But the storm had left its -traces in the broken branches strewing lawn and garden and field, and -across the pathway a great elm-tree, snapped half-way up the main trunk, -lay with its proud head prostrate, blocking the main entrance. - -The coolness of the dawn touched like a benediction Ruth’s tired face -and black and bruised hands. For a few moments she stood looking up at -the washed sky, the fading stars, while the dogs nestled against her, -craving for notice. A great sense of life and happiness came flowing -into her, flowing like a mighty tide with the wind behind it, and she -knew that all was well. - -She would have given a good deal to sit down and cry, but there was much -to be done. That morning passed like a hurried nightmare, the whole -house pervaded with that painful agitation which the shadow of death, -coming suddenly, brings, for Violet Riversley was desperately and -dangerously ill. She was in a high fever, wildly delirious, and Ruth -found it impossible to leave her. Miss McCox took command in her -absence, and moved about house and farm a very tower of strength in -emergency, while Gladys haunted her footsteps, crying at every word, as -is the manner of her kind in such moments. In the sitting-room, Roger -North and his wife, summoned by telephone, waited while the doctor made -his examination. The room had been stiffly set in order by Miss McCox’s -swift capable hands. Over the scorched and blackened patch on the carpet -she had set a table, nothing but a general air of bareness and smell of -burning remained to hint of anything unusual. Both windows were opened -wide to the chill early morning air, and Mrs. North crouched by the fire -shivering. - -She was utterly unnerved and overcome. The message had arrived just as -she was dressing. She had swallowed a hurried breakfast, when, quite -strangely, it did not matter that the coffee was not so good as usual, -and the half-dozen notes and letters from various friends were of no -real concern whatever. She had been engaged to lunch at the Condors. In -the afternoon she had promised to give away the prizes at a Village Work -Show. And into all this pleasant everyday life had come, shattering it -all into little bits, the sudden paralyzing fact that Violet had been -taken dangerously ill during the night. - -She and her husband had driven over in the little car to find the doctor -still in the sick-room. Ruth was also there, and questioning Miss McCox -was much like extracting information from the Sphinx. - -“I always disliked that woman; she has no more heart than a stone,” Mrs. -North complained tearfully. “And I do think she ought to tell Miss Seer -we have arrived. It is dreadful to be kept away from one’s own child -like this and not know what is happening.” - -“Eliot will be down soon, I expect,” said North. He was wandering -aimlessly, restlessly, about the room, for as the time lengthened his -nerves too grew strained with waiting. What had happened? All sorts of -horrible possibilities pressed themselves upon him. If only Ruth would -come and he could see her alone for a moment! - -He stopped in his restless pacing, and looked down kindly at his wife’s -shivering form. “Shall I shut the windows?” he asked. - -“No,” she answered; “never mind. Oh, Roger, do you think she will die? I -can’t bear it! Oh, why doesn’t he come?” - -She got up and clutched her husband’s coat-sleeve, hiding her face on -his shoulder. “Roger, I couldn’t bear her to die.” - -Never before had the great presence of Death really come near to her, -except to summon the very old whose life had already almost passed to -the other side. And now, suddenly, like a bolt out of a serene blue sky, -it was standing beside her, imminent, threatening, and, to her, -unspeakably terrible. - -Roger North put an awkward arm round her. He felt uncomfortably stiff -and useless, and ridiculously conscious of the fact that she had -forgotten in her hurry and distress to take her hair out of the curler -at the back of her neck. - -He was honestly anxious to be sympathetic, to be all that was kind and -helpful. His own anxiety racked him, and yet, absurdly enough, that -curler obtruded itself on his notice until he found himself saying, “You -have left one of your curlers in.” - -He was acutely aware that it was about the last thing he should have -said and wholly unsuitable to the moment, but his wife, fortunately, -took no such view. - -“It just shows the state of my mind!” she exclaimed, trying with shaking -fingers to disentangle it. “I have never done such a thing in my life -before! What a mercy you noticed it!” - -He helped her to get the little instrument out, and put it in his -pocket. - -There was the sound of a closing door above, the hurried movement of -feet, and Mrs. North clutched her husband’s arm. They both looked -towards the door. But silence fell again, and she began to cry. - -“Do you think she’s dying, Roger?” - -“No, no! Eliot would send for us, of course.” He began his restless walk -to and fro again. “I wish we had got here before Eliot did. You could -have gone in with him then.” - -And here, at last, footsteps came down the stairs, across the hall, the -door opened, and the doctor came in. - -He was an unusual man to find buried in a country practice. A man of -outstanding intellect and of a very charming presence. Between him and -North a warm friendship existed. - -“Ah, you have come!” he exclaimed. - -He took Mrs. North’s hand and looked down at her with exceeding -kindness. - -“The child is very ill and I fear brain trouble,” he said. “I gather she -went for a long walk yesterday and got drenched in the storm, so it is -possibly aggravated by a chill. Do you know of any special worry or -trouble?” - -“Nothing whatever,” said Mrs. North decisively. “Except, of course, poor -Dick’s death. She felt that very much at the time, and Roger thinks she -has never got over it, don’t you, Roger?” - -Roger nodded. For a moment he considered laying before his friend the -abnormal situation in which Ruth Seer believed, and which he himself had -come anyway to recognize as within the realms of possibility. But the -inclination faded almost as soon as born. He had had no speech yet with -Ruth, nor did it seem fair to Violet. Possibly, perhaps, some personal -pride held him. - -The doctor looked at him kindly. “Poor little girl! Well, she made a -brave fight, I remember. Now, Mrs. North, no worrying. How old is the -child? Twenty-six? You can get over anything at twenty-six! I’m sending -in a nurse, and that woman upstairs is worth her weight in gold. You -couldn’t have her in better hands. Now you’d like to go up and have a -look at her. Don’t get worried because she won’t know you; that’s part -of the illness.” - -But outside he looked at Roger with an anxious face. - -“She’s very ill, North,” he said. “It must have been coming on for some -time. The storm—yes—that shook it up into active mischief, no doubt. -We’ll pull her through, I hope; but would you like a specialist’s -opinion? These brain troubles are very obscure.” - -“I leave it to you,” said North, his whole being sick and empty. - -“Well, we’ll see how she goes on in the next twenty-four hours.” - -He sped away, and Roger wandered aimlessly about the farm, looking at -the wreckage of the storm, with Larry and the little dogs, conscious in -their dumb way that their beloveds were in trouble, keeping at his heel. - -By one of those vagaries which make the English climate so lovable in -spite of its iniquities, it was, after the day and night of storm and -rain, that very wonderful thing a perfectly beautiful morning in -November. The sun shone with astonishing warmth, scattering great masses -of grey and silver cloud, against which the delicate black tracery of -bough and twig, stripped of every lingering leaf, showed in exquisite -perfection. - -The farm was wide awake and astir with the life of a new day. But Vi, -little Vi, was lying up there, at the Door of Death. Recollections of -her as a soft-headed, golden-eyed baby came back to him; as a small -child flitting like a white butterfly about the garden; as a swift -vision of long black legs and a cloud of dark hair, running wild with -the boys; as the glorious hoyden who had taken her world by storm in the -days just before the war. And now she lay there a broken thing, tossed -and driven to death in the purposeless play of soulless and unpitying -forces. He ground his teeth in impotent rage, overcome with a very -anguish of helpless pain and wrath. If only Ruth would come and tell him -what had happened! - -The cowman, who was helping the gardener clear away the remains of the -storm, came up from the fallen tree and spoke to him. He was sorry to -hear there was illness at the house. North thanked him mechanically and -escaped into the flower garden. The few remaining flowers were beaten to -the ground, their heads draggled in the wet earth. He got out his knife -and began to cut them off and tidy up the border. He could watch the -house at the same time. The minutes dragged like hours, and then, at -last, the door on to the terrace opened, and Ruth came out. - -She looked round and, catching sight of him, hurried by the shortest -way, across the wet grass, to meet him. His pain-ravaged face smote her -with a great pity. She held out both her hands to meet his. - -“I could not come before,” she said. “She is quieter now. Oh, do not -feel like that! She will get well. I know she will get well.” - -“Where can we go to be alone?” he asked. “I must hear what happened. It -is that which has been driving me mad.” - -“Let us go and walk along the path under the ‘house on the wall,’” she -said. “No one will come there and it is sheltered and warm in the sun.” - -And there, pacing up and down, she told him, as well as she could, the -happenings of the night before. - -North ground his teeth. “She would be better dead,” he said. “And yet——” -He looked at her, a new horror growing in his haggard eyes, a -question——? - -“She will not die,” said Ruth. “But don’t you understand, don’t you -believe, whether she lives or dies the evil is conquered, is transmuted, -is taken in to the Eternal Good?” - -“No, I cannot believe,” said North harshly. “I think you are playing -with words. It seems to me that only Evil is powerful. If anything -survives, it is that.” - -Ruth looked at him with very gentle eyes. “Wait,” she said. “Have just a -little patience. She will get well, and then you will believe.” - -“I cannot believe,” said Roger North. The words fell heavily, like -stones. He paced restlessly backwards and forwards, crunching the wet -gravel viciously under his feet. - -“The house might have been burnt down. You—I suppose you think that was -the object?” - -“Yes, I think it must have been so. At any rate one of them.” - -“That is the loathsome horror of it all!” North burst forth savagely. “I -believe just enough, because in no other way can I account for what has -happened, to make me dread death for her in a way I should never have -dreaded it otherwise. I have always looked on our personal grief as -fundamentally selfish.” - -Ruth was silent. He seemed beyond the reach of help, and she would have -given so much to help him. That he, at any rate for the moment, gave no -thought to what she had been through disturbed her not at all. - -“Listen,” she said presently. “You may think it all imagination, or what -people call imagination, but if you could only have seen it, as I did, -you would know it was very, very real. It was when I was alone with her -waiting for Doctor Eliot. I went to the window to pull the blind down a -little, and when I turned round again—I saw”—she stopped, searching for -adequate words—“I saw what looked like a wall of white light. I can’t -describe it any other way, though it was not like any light we know of -here, more wonderful, alive in some strange way. It was all round her. -No evil thing could get through. I am so sure.” - -She looked at him with her heart in her eyes, but Roger North shook his -head. - -“It leaves me cold,” he said. “Is that why you feel so sure she will get -well?” - -“No. But I _am_ sure; that is all I know.” - -And to that Ruth held through the days of tense anxiety that followed, -through the visit of the specialist from London, who gave little hope, -through the despair of others. She moved among them as one carrying a -secret store of strength. Mrs. North, pitiably broken up, clung to her -for help and comfort, but North, after the talk in the garden, had -withdrawn into himself and kept aloof. The ravages day after day marked -on his face went to Ruth’s heart when he came over to inquire. But for -the moment he was beyond her reach or help. Whatever devils from the -bottomless pit rent and tore his soul during these dark days, he fought -them single-handed, as indeed, ultimately, they must be fought by every -man. - -Mrs. North and Fred Riversley stayed at Thorpe. - -“Uncommonly decent of Miss Seer,” said Mr. Pithey to his wife. “Turning -her house into a hotel as well as a hospital! That stuck-up little Mrs. -North, too. I’ve heard her say things about Miss Seer that have put my -bristles up. Give me Lady Condor every time. Paint or no paint!” - -But Mrs. Pithey had learnt things down in the dark valley. She was not -so censorious as of old. - -“I don’t cotton to Mrs. North myself,” she answered. “She’s a woman who -overprices herself. But she’s a mother, and Miss Seer could do no less -than take her in. You might take down some of these best Musk Cat grapes -after tea, ’Erb. P’raps Mrs. Riversley could fancy ’em.” - -Everyone indeed was very kind, but with the exception of Lady Condor and -Mr. Fothersley, Ruth kept visitors away from Mrs. North. - -Fred Riversley had astonished everyone by turning out a wonderful nurse, -and what little rest Violet had was in his strong arms, nursed like a -child. She seemed nothing more, and in her delirium had gone back to the -days of her childhood and talked of little else, and more and more -happily as the time went by. - -“One might as well try to keep a snow wreath,” he said one afternoon to -Ruth, who was giving him tea after his usual tramp round the fields for -some fresh air and exercise. - -Even as he spoke there was a little bustle and scurry outside the door, -and before it opened Riversley was on his feet and moving towards it. - -Mrs. North stood there, half laughing, half crying. “Oh, she is better!” -she cried. “She has gone into a real sleep. Nurse says we may hope. She -will get well.” - -She dropped on to her knees by the fire and buried her face against the -cushions of the sofa, sobbing and crying, while Riversley tore across -the hall and up the stairs two steps at a time. - - * * * * * - -It was early on the following morning that Violet Riversley opened her -eyes and looked at her husband with recognition in them. - -“Dear old Freddy,” she said weakly. “What’s the matter?” - -He put his arms round her with the tears running down his cheeks, and -she nestled to him like a tired child and fell asleep again. - -When she woke the second time the room was full of the pale November -sunshine. She looked round it curiously for a moment, then her mind -seemed to give up the effort to remember where she was and she looked at -him. - -“I do love you, Freddy,” she said. - -The morning sounds of the farm came in through the open window and she -smiled. “Of course, I’m at Thorpe. I dreamt I was with Dick.” - -Outside, Ruth went across the terrace to her farm work. Her face was -that of one who holds secure some hidden store of happiness. She sang to -herself as she went: - - “When I have reached my journey’s end, - And I am dead and free.” - -The words floated up clear and sweet through the still air. - -“Dead and free.” Violet repeated them in a small faint voice, and again -Fear gripped Riversley by the throat. He longed to hold her more closely -and dared not. There seemed no perceptible substance to hold. His mouth -went dry while he struggled with his difficulty of speech. - -“The journey is worth making too, Vi,” he said. - -The husky strangled voice made its appeal. She looked with more of -understanding into his bloodshot eyes, his haggard ravaged face, and her -own face became suddenly very sweet and of a marvellous brightness. - -“Yes,” she said, “the journey is worth making too.” - -More distant came the sound of Ruth’s song: - - “I pray that God will let me go - And wander with them to and fro, - Along the flowered fields I know, - That look towards the sea, - That look towards the sea.” - -The white pigeons swooped down about her. The dogs, so long kept in to -heel, rushed wildly over the lawn and down to the river, uttering sharp -cries of joy. A robin, perched on the coping of the old wall, sang sweet -and shrill. She looked out over her beloved fields, over the long valley -full of misty sunshine, and was content. The farm was Itself again. She -moved on across the lawn leaving footprints on the silver wet grass, to -where, standing by the gate, she saw Roger North. - -He turned at the sound of her coming, and she called to him: - -“She has slept ever since I ’phoned to you. She will get well.” - -“Thank God!” he said, as men will in these moments, whether they believe -or no. - -His face was curiously alive, alight with some great happening; there -was an air of joyous excitement about him. He moved towards her, and -smiled a little, rather shamefaced smile, and the odd likeness to a -schoolboy who is feeling shy was very apparent. Then he blurted it out. - -“I have seen him,” he said. - -“Ah!” The exclamation was a note of pure joy. “Oh, tell me about it!” - -“He was leaning over the gate. He was looking for me, waiting for me, -just as he used to do. And he looked at me with his dear old grin. It -was ever so real.” - -“Yes. Yes.” - -“And he spoke. Just as you have told me. It isn’t the same as speaking -here. It’s something like a thought passing——” - -He stopped, his face all alight. He looked years younger. The heavy -lines were hardly visible. - -“I wish I had spoken. Somehow at the moment I couldn’t.” - -“I know. One cannot. I believe it is because of the vibrations. I -suppose——” Ruth hesitated. “Can you tell me?” - -“What he said? It—it seems so ridiculous. One expected it would be -something important, something—well, different.” - -She laughed, looking at him with affection, with that wonderful look of -pure friendliness. - -“But why should it?” - -He laughed too—joyously. As he had not laughed since boyhood. Surely -again the world was full of wonder and of glory. Again all things were -possible, in the light of the Horizon beyond Eternity. - -“He said—just as he used to, you know—‘Come _on_, old Roger!’” - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - - 1. Table of Contents added by transcriber. - - 2. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - - 3. Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as - printed. - - 4. P. 87, changed '“She is really an excellent worker,” and little Miss - Luce' to '“She is really an excellent worker,” said little Miss - Luce'. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE*** - - -******* This file should be named 60331-0.txt or 60331-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/0/3/3/60331 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/60331-0.zip b/old/60331-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 10eae7a..0000000 --- a/old/60331-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/60331-h.zip b/old/60331-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f49fc73..0000000 --- a/old/60331-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/60331-h/60331-h.htm b/old/60331-h/60331-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 33c36bc..0000000 --- a/old/60331-h/60331-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9733 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> -<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Man on the Other Side, by Ada Barnett</title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - body { margin-left: 8%; margin-right: 10%; } - h1 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; } - h2 { text-align: center; font-weight: bold; font-size: x-large; } - .pageno { right: 1%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; color: silver; - text-indent: 0em; text-align: right; position: absolute; - border: thin solid silver; padding: .1em .2em; font-style: normal; - font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; } - p { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; text-align: justify; } - .fss { font-size: 75%; } - .sc { font-variant: small-caps; } - .small { font-size: small; } - .lg-container-b { text-align: center; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-b { clear: both; } } - .lg-container-l { text-align: left; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-l { clear: both; } } - .lg-container-r { text-align: right; } - @media handheld { .lg-container-r { clear: both; } } - .linegroup { display: inline-block; text-align: left; } - @media handheld { .linegroup { display: block; margin-left: 1.5em; } } - .linegroup .group { margin: 1em auto; } - .linegroup .line { text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; } - div.linegroup > :first-child { margin-top: 0; } - .linegroup .in2 { padding-left: 4.0em; } - .linegroup .in32 { padding-left: 19.0em; } - .linegroup .in4 { padding-left: 5.0em; } - .ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: -1em; } - ol.ol_1 {padding-left: 0; margin-left: 2.78%; margin-top: .5em; - margin-bottom: .5em; list-style-type: decimal; } - div.pbb { page-break-before: always; } - hr.pb { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-bottom: 1em; } - @media handheld { hr.pb { display: none; } } - .chapter { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } - .figcenter { clear: both; max-width: 100%; margin: 2em auto; text-align: center; } - .figcenter img { max-width: 100%; height: auto; } - .id001 { width:10%; } - @media handheld { .id001 { margin-left:45%; width:10%; } } - .ig001 { width:100%; } - .nf-center { text-align: center; } - .nf-center-c0 { text-align: left; margin: 0.5em 0; } - p.drop-capa0_0_6 { text-indent: -0em; } - p.drop-capa0_0_6:first-letter { float: left; margin: 0.100em 0.100em 0em 0em; - font-size: 250%; line-height: 0.6em; text-indent: 0; } - @media handheld { - p.drop-capa0_0_6 { text-indent: 0; } - p.drop-capa0_0_6:first-letter { float: none; margin: 0; font-size: 100%; } - } - .c000 { margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } - .c001 { page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em; } - .c002 { margin-top: 2em; } - .c003 { margin-top: 4em; } - .c004 { margin-top: 4em; font-size: .9em; } - .c005 { page-break-before:auto; margin-top: 4em; } - .c006 { margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c007 { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c008 { margin-top: 1em; font-size: .9em; } - .c009 { margin-top: 2em; font-size: .9em; } - .c010 { font-size: .9em; text-indent: 1em; margin-top: 0.25em; - margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c011 { text-indent: 0; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c012 { margin-top: 2em; font-size: .9em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; - } - .c013 { margin-top: 2em; text-indent: 1em; margin-bottom: 0.25em; } - .c014 { border: none; border-bottom: thin solid; margin-top: 0.8em; - margin-bottom: 0.8em; margin-left: 35%; margin-right: 35%; width: 30%; } - .c015 { margin-top: 1em; } - div.tnotes { padding-left:1em;padding-right:1em;background-color:#E3E4FA; - border:1px solid silver; margin:2em 10% 0 10%; font-family: Georgia, serif; - } - .covernote { visibility: hidden; display: none; } - div.tnotes p { text-align:left; } - @media handheld { .covernote { visibility: visible; display: block;} } - .section { clear: both; page-break-before: always; } - .ol_1 li {font-size: .9em; } - @media handheld {.ol_1 li {padding-left: 1em; text-indent: 0em; } } - body {font-family: Georgia, serif; text-align: justify; } - .figcenter {font-size: .9em; } - div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always;font-size: large; } - div.titlepage p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 3em; } - .ph1 { text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; font-size: xx-large; - margin: .67em auto; page-break-before: always; } - - - h1.pg { font-size: 190%; - clear: both; } - h2.pg { font-size: 135%; - clear: both; } - h3,h4 { text-align: center; - clear: both; } - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Man on the Other Side, by Ada Barnett</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: The Man on the Other Side</p> -<p>Author: Ada Barnett</p> -<p>Release Date: September 19, 2019 [eBook #60331]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by Richard Tonsing<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - the Google Books Library Project. See - <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=R7QhAAAAMAAJ&hl=en"> - https://books.google.com/books?id=R7QhAAAAMAAJ&hl=en</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p> </p> - -<div class='titlepage'> - -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE</h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='small'>BY</span></div> - <div>ADA BARNETT</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/title.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>NEW YORK</div> - <div>DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY</div> - <div>1922</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1922</span></div> - <div><span class='sc'>By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY. Inc.</span></div> - <div class='c002'>PRINTED IN U. S. A.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>DEDICATED</div> - <div>TO HIM</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c004'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>Oh, I would siege the golden coasts</em></div> - <div class='line in2'><em>Of space, and climb high Heaven’s dome,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>So I might see those million ghosts</em></div> - <div class='line in2'><em>Come home.</em>”</div> - <div class='line in32'><em>Stella Benson</em></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='CONTENTS' class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c002'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#I'>I</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#II'>II</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#III'>III</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#IV'>IV</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#V'>V</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#VI'>VI</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#VII'>VII</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#VIII'>VIII</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#IX'>IX</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#X'>X</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#XI'>XI</a></div> - <div class='line'>CHAPTER <a href='#XII'>XII</a></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='section ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>The Man on the Other Side</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h2 id='I' class='c005'>CHAPTER I</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth Courthope Seer stood on her -own doorstep and was content. She -looked across the garden and the four-acre -field with the white may hedge boundary. It -was all hers. Her eyes slowly followed the -way of the sun. Another field, lush and green, -sloped to a stream, where, if the agents had -spoken truth, dwelt trout in dim pools beneath -the willows. Field and stream, they too were -hers. Good fields they were, clover thick, -worthy fields for feed for those five Shorthorns, -bought yesterday at Uckfield market.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The love of the land, the joy of possession, -the magic of the spring, they swept through her -being like great clean winds. She was over -forty; she had worked hard all her life. Fate -had denied her almost everything—father or -mother, brother or sister, husband or children. -She had never had a home of her own. And -now fate had given her enough money to buy -Thorpe Farm. The gift was immense, still -almost unbelievable.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>“You perfectly exquisite, delicious, duck of -a place,” she said, and kissed her hand to it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The house stood high, and she could see on -the one hand the dust-white road winding for -the whole mile to Mentmore station; on the -other, green fields and good brown earth, woodland, -valley, and hill, stretching to the wide -spaces of the downs, beyond which lay the sea. -In 1919, the year of the Great Peace, spring -had come late, but in added and surpassing -beauty. The great yearly miracle of creation -was at its height, and behold, it was very good.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In front of her sat Sarah and Selina. The -day’s work was over. They had watched seeds -planted and seeds watered. They had assisted -at the staking of sweet-peas and the two-hourly -feeding of small chicken. Now they demanded, -as their habit was, in short sharp barks of a -distinctly irritating nature, that they should be -taken for a walk.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sarah and Selina were the sole extravagance -of Ruth’s forty years of life. They had been -unwanted in a hard world. Aberdeens were -out of fashion, and their sex, like Ruth’s own -in the struggle for existence, had been against -them. So bare pennies which Ruth could ill -afford had gone to the keep of Sarah and -Selina, and in return they loved her as only a -dog can love.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>Sarah was a rather large lady, usually of -admirable manners and behaviour. Only once -had she seriously fallen from grace, and, to -Ruth’s horror, had presented her with five black -and white puppies of a description unknown -before in heaven or earth. Moreover, she was -quite absurdly pleased with herself, and Selina -was, equally absurdly, quite unbearably jealous.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Selina had never been a lady, either in manners -or behaviour. She was younger and -smaller than Sarah, and of infinite wickedness -both in design and execution.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked at them as they sat side by side -before her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“To the stile and back,” she said, “and you -may have ten minutes’ hunt in the wood.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The pathway to the stile led through a field -of buttercups, the stile into the station road. -That field puzzled Ruth. It was radiantly -beautiful, but it was bad farming. Also it was -the only bit of bad farming on the whole place. -Every other inch of ground was utilized to the -best advantage, cultivated up to the hilt, well-fed, -infinitely cared for.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was not curious, and had asked no questions -concerning the late owner of Thorpe, nor -was any one of this time left on the farm. The -war had swept them away. But after two -months’ possession of the place, she had begun -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>to realize the extraordinary amount of love and -care that had been bestowed on it by some one. -In a subtle way the late owner had materialized -for her. She had begun to wonder why he had -done this or that. Once or twice she had caught -herself wishing she could ask his advice over -some possible improvement.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So she looked at the buttercups and wondered, -and by the stile she noticed a hole in the hedge -on the left-hand side, and wondered again. It -was the only hole she had found in those well-kept -hedges.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She sat on the stile and sniffed the spring -scents luxuriously, while Sarah and Selina had -their hunt. The may, and the wild geranium, -and the clover. Heavens, how good it all was! -The white road wandered down the hill, but -no one came. She had the whole beautiful -world to herself. And then a small streak came -moving slowly along the centre of the road. -Presently it resolved itself into a dog. Tired, -sore-footed, by the way it ran, covered with dust, -but running steadily. A dog with a purpose. -Sarah and Selina, scenting another of their -kind, emerged hot foot and giving tongue from -the centre of the wood. The dog—Ruth could -see now it was a Gordon Setter in haste about -his business—slipped through the hole in the -hedge, and went, trotting wearily but without -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>pause, across the buttercup field towards the -house. To Ruth’s amazement, Sarah and -Selina made no attempt to follow. Instead they -sat down side by side in front of her and proceeded -to explain.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked at the hole, wondering. “He -must have belonged here once, of course,” she -said, “I wonder how far he has come, the poor -dear.” She hurried up the slope, and reached -the house in time to hear Miss McCox’s piercing -wail rend the air from the kitchen.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And into every room has he been like -greased lightning before I could hinder, and -covered with dust and dirt, and me that have -enough to do to keep things clean as it is, with -those two dirty beasts that Mistress Seer sets -such store by. But it’s encouraging such things -she is, caring for the brutes that perish -more than for Christian men and women with -mortal souls——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Red of face, shrewish of tongue, but most -excellent as a cook, Miss McCox paused for -breath.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She do be wonderful set on animals,” said -the slow Sussex voice of the cowman. He settled -his folded arms on the kitchen window-sill. -A chat about the new mistress of Thorpe -never failed in interest. “But ’tis all right so -long as we understand one another.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>Ruth passed his broad back, politely blind to -Miss McCox’s facial efforts to inform him of -her appearance in the background.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The dog was now coming up the garden path -between apple-trees still thickest with blossom. -A drooping dejected dog, a dog sick at heart -with disappointment, a dog who could not understand. -A dusty forlorn thing wholly out of -keeping with the jubilant spring world.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth called to him, and he came, politely and -patiently.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, my dear,” she said. “You have come -to look for some one and he is not here, and I -cannot help you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She did what she could. Fetched some water, -which he drank eagerly, and food, which he -would not look at. She bathed his sore feet -and brushed the dust from his silky black and -tan coat, until he stood revealed as a singularly -beautiful dog. So beautiful that even Miss -McCox expressed unwilling admiration.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sarah and Selina behaved with the utmost -decorum. This was unusual when a stranger -entered their domain. Ruth wondered while -she brushed. It seemed they acknowledged -some greater right. Perhaps he had belonged -to the man who had so loved and cared for -Thorpe before she came. And he had left -all—and the dog.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>Presently the dog lay down in a chosen place -from which he could command a view of both -the front drive and the road from the station. -He lay with his nose between his paws and -watched.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After supper Ruth Seer went and sat with -him. The stars looked down with clear bright -eyes. The night wind brought the scent of a -thousand flowers. An immense peace and -beauty filled the heavens. Yet, as she sat, she -fancied she heard again the low monotonous -boom from the Channel to which people had -grown so accustomed through the long war -years. She knew it could not really be; it was -just fancy. But suddenly her eyes were full of -tears. She had lost no one out there—she had -no one to lose. But she was an English woman. -They were all her men. And there were so -many white roads, from as many stations.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The next morning the stranger dog had vanished, -after, so Miss McCox reported bitterly -at 6 <span class='fss'>A. M.</span>, a night spent on the spare-room -bed. It was a perfect wonder of a morning. -Even on that first morning when the stars -sang together it could not have been more wonderful, -thought Ruth Seer, looking, as she never -tired of looking, at the farm that was hers. -The five Shorthorns chewed the cud in the four-acre -field. The verdict of Miss McCox, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>cowman and the boy, upon them was favourable. -To-morrow morning Ruth would have -her first lesson in milking. The Berkshire sow, -bought also at Uckfield market, had produced -during the night, somewhat unexpectedly, but -very successfully, thirteen small black pigs, -shining like satin and wholly delectable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The only blot on the perfection of the day -was the behaviour of Selina. At 11 <span class='fss'>A. M.</span> she -was detected by Miss McCox, in full pursuit of -the last hatched brood of chicken. Caught, -or to be fair to Selina, cornered, by the entire -staff, at 11.30, she was well and handsomely -whipped, and crept, an apparently chastened -dog, into the shelter of the house. There, however, -so soon as the clang of the big bell proclaimed -the busy dinner hour, she had proceeded -to the room sacred to the slumbers of -Miss McCox and, undisturbed, had diligently -made a hole in the pillow on which Miss McCox’s -head nightly reposed, extracting therefrom the -feathers of many chickens. These she spread -lavishly, and without favouritism, over the surface -of the entire carpet, and, well content, -withdrew silently and discreetly from the precincts -of Thorpe Farm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At tea time she was still missing, and Sarah -alone, stiff with conscious rectitude, sat in front -of Ruth and ate a double portion of cake and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>bread-and-butter. Visions of rabbit holes, steel -traps, of angry gamekeepers with guns, had -begun to form in Ruth’s mind. Her well-earned -appetite for tea vanished. Full forgiveness -and an undeservedly warm welcome awaited -Selina whenever she might choose to put in an -appearance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even Miss McCox, when she cleared away -the tea, withdrew the notice given in the heat -of discovery, and suggested that Selina might -be hunting along the stream. She had seen the -strange dog down there no longer than an hour -ago.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It seemed to Ruth a hopeful suggestion. Also -she loved to wander by the stream. In all her -dreams of a domain of her own always there -had been running water. And now that too -was hers. One of the slow Sussex streams moving -steadily and very quietly between flowered -banks, under overhanging branches. So quietly -that you did not at first realize its strength. So -quietly that you did not at first hear its song.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was that strange and wonderful hour which -comes before sunset after a cloudless day of -May sunshine, when it is as if the world had -laughed, rejoiced, and sung itself to rest in -the everlasting arms. There is a sudden hush, -a peace falls, a strange silence—if you listen.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth ceased to worry about Selina. She -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>drifted along the path down the stream, and -love of the whole world folded her in a great -content. A sense of oneness with all that moved -and breathed, with the little brethren in hole and -hedge, with the flowers’ lavish gift of scent and -colour, with the warmth of the sun, a oneness -that fused her being with theirs as into one -perfect flame. Dear God, how good it all was, -how wonderful! The marshy ground where the -kingcups and the lady smocks were just now -in all their gold and silver glory, the wild -cherry, lover of water, still in this late season -blossoming among its leaves, the pool where -the kingfishers lived among the willows and -river palms.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And, dreaming, she came to a greensward -place where lay the stranger dog. A dog well -content, who waved a lazy tail as she came. -His nose between his paws, he watched no -longer a lonely road. He watched a man. A -man in a brown suit who lay full length on the -grass. Ruth could not see his face, only the -back of a curly head propped by a lean brown -hand; and he too was watching something. His -absolute stillness made Ruth draw her breath -and remain motionless where she stood. No -proprietor’s fury against trespassers touched -her. Perhaps because she had walked so long -on the highway, looking over walls and barred -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>gateways at other people’s preserves. She -crept very softly forward so that she too could -see what so engrossed him. A pair of kingfishers -teaching their brood to fly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Two had already made the great adventure -and sat side by side on a branch stretching -across the pool. Even as Ruth looked, surrounded -by a flashing escort, the third joined -them, and there sat all three, very close together -for courage, and distinctly puffed with -pride.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The parent birds with even greater pride -skimmed the surface of the stream, wheeled -and came back, like radiant jewels in the sunlight. -Ruth watched entranced. Hardly she -dared to breathe. All was very still.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then suddenly the scream of a motor -siren cleft the silence like a sword. Ruth -started and turned round. When she looked -again all were gone. Man, dog and birds. -Wiped out as it were in a moment. The birds’ -swift flight, even the dog’s, was natural enough, -but how had the slower-moving human being -so swiftly vanished? Ruth looked and, puzzled, -looked again, but the man had disappeared -as completely as the kingfishers. Then she -caught sight of the dog. Saw him run across -the only visible corner of the lower field, and -disappear in the direction of the front gate. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>Towards the front gate also sped a small two-seated -car, down the long hill from the main -road which led to the pleasant town of Fairbridge.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth felt suddenly caught up in some sequence -of events outside her consciousness. -Something, she knew not what, filled her also -with a desire to reach the front gate. She ran -across the plank which bridged the stream at -that point, and, taking a short cut, arrived -simultaneously with the car and the dog. And -lo and behold! beside the driver, very stiff and -proud, sat Selina; the strange dog had hurled -himself into the driver’s arms, while, mysteriously -sprung from somewhere, Sarah whirled -round the entire group, barking furiously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth laughed. The events were moving with -extraordinary rapidity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Larry will have already explained my -sudden appearance,” said the driver, looking -at her with a pair of humorous tired eyes over -the top of the dog’s head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, is his name Larry?” gasped Ruth, -breathless from Selina’s sudden arrival in her -arms after a scramble over the man and a takeoff -from the side of the car; “I did so want to -know. Be quiet, Selina; you are a bad dog.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I must explain,” said the driver gravely, -“that I have not kidnapped Selina. We -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>stopped to water the car at Mentmore, and she -got in and refused to get out. She seemed -to know what she wanted, so I brought her -along.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am ever so grateful,” said Ruth; “she has -been missing since twelve o’clock, and I have -been really worried.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He nodded sympathetically.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“One never knows, does one? Larry, you -rascal, let me get out. I have been worried -about Larry too. I only came home two hours -ago and found he had been missing since yesterday -morning. May I introduce myself? My -name is Roger North.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!” exclaimed Ruth, involuntarily.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a name world-famous in science and -literature.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, <em>the</em> Roger North! It is quite all right. -People always say ‘Oh,’ like that when I introduce -myself. And you are the new owner of -Thorpe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am that enormously lucky person,” said -Ruth. “Do come in, won’t you? And won’t -you have some tea—or something? That -sounds rather vague, but I haven’t a notion as -to time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Capital! Is that a usual habit of yours, or -only this once?” asked this somewhat strange -person who was <em>the</em> Roger North. “I don’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>know if you’ve noticed it, but most people seem -to spend their days wondering what time it -is! And I can drink tea at any moment, thanks -very much. Take care of the car, Larry.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Larry jumped on the seat, stretched himself -at full length and became a dog of stone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The car belonged to his master,” explained -Roger North, as they went up the garden path. -“Larry and the car both came to me when he -went to France, and though the old dog has -often run over here and had a hunt round, -this is the first time he has not come straight -back to me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He arrived here about six o’clock last evening,” -said Ruth. “He hunted everywhere, as -you say, and then lay down and watched. -I gather he spent the night in the spare room, -but this morning he had disappeared, and I -only found him again half an hour ago down -by the stream. Quite happy apparently with -a man. I don’t know who the man is. He -was lying by the stream watching some kingfishers, -and then your car startled us all, and -I can’t think where he disappeared to.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know who it could have been. All -the men Larry knew here left long ago, and he -doesn’t make friends readily.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The path to the house was a real cottage-garden -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>path, bordered thickly with old-fashioned -flowers, flowers which must have grown -undisturbed for many a long year, only thinned -out, or added to, with the forethought born of -love. Memories thronged North’s mind as he -looked. He wondered what demon had induced -him to come in, to accept tea. It was unlike -him. But to his relief the new owner of -Thorpe made no attempt at small talk. Indeed, -she left his side, and gathered a bunch of the -pinks, whose fragrance went up like evening -incense to Heaven, leaving him to walk alone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For Ruth Seer sensed the shadow of a great -grief. It fell like a chill across the sunlight. -A sense of pity filled her. Fearing the tongue -of Miss McCox, which ceased not nor spared, -she fetched the tea herself, out on to the red-bricked -pathway, facing south, and proudly -called the terrace.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sarah and Selina had somehow crowded into -the visitor’s chair and fought for the largest -space.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I won’t apologize,” said Ruth. “That -means you are a real dog lover.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He laughed. “My wife says because they -cannot answer me! How did the little ladies -take Larry’s intrusion?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They seemed to know he had the greater -right.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>North dropped a light kiss on each black head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Bless you!” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He drank his tea and fed the dogs shamelessly, -for the most part in silence, and Ruth -watched him in the comfortable certainty that -he was quite oblivious of her scrutiny. He interested -her, this man of a world-wide fame, -not because of that fame, but because her instinct -told her that between him and the late -owner of Thorpe there had been a great love. -When she no longer met the glance of the humorous, -tired eyes, and the pleasant voice, talking -lightly, was silent, she could see the weary -soul of the man in his face. A tragic face, -tragic because it was both powerful and hopeless. -He turned to her presently and asked, -“May I light a pipe, and have a mouch round?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth nodded. She felt a sense of comradeship -already between them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You will find me here when you come back,” -she said. “This is my hour for the newspaper.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But though she unfolded it and spread it out, -crumpling its pages in the effort, after the fashion -of women, she was not reading of “The Railway -Deadlock,” of “The Victory March of -the Guards,” or of “The 1,000–Mile Flight by -British Airship,” all spread temptingly before -her; she was thinking of the man who had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>owned Thorpe Farm, the man whom Larry and -Roger North had loved, the man who lived for -her, who had never known him, in the woods -and fields that had been his.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The first evening shadows began to fall -softly; a flight of rooks cawed home across the -sky. The sounds of waking life about the farm -died out one by one.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently Roger North came back and sat -down again, pulling hard at his pipe. His -strong dark face was full of shadows too.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am glad you have this place,” he said -abruptly. “He would have been glad too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And suddenly emboldened, Ruth asked the -question that had been trembling on her lips -ever since he had come.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Will you tell me something about him?” -she said. “Lately I have so wanted to know. -It isn’t idle curiosity. I would not dare to ask -you if it were. And it would be only some one -who cared that can tell me what I want to know. -Because—I don’t quite know how to explain—but -I seem to have got into touch, as it were, -with the mind of the man who made and loved -this place. At first it was only that I kept -wondering why he had done this or that, if he -would approve of what I was doing. But lately -I have—oh, how can I explain it?—I have a -sense of awareness of him. I <em>know</em> in some -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>sort of odd way, what he would do if he were -still here. And when I have carried a thing -out, made some change or improvement, I know -if he is pleased. Of course I expect it sounds -quite mad to you. It isn’t even as if I had -known him——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked at North apologetically.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear lady,” said North gently, “it is -quite easily explained. You love the place very -much, that is easily seen, and you realized at -once that the previous owner had loved it too. -There was evidences of that on every hand. -And it was quite natural when you were making -improvements to wonder what he would -have done. It only wants a little imagination -to carry that to feeling that he was pleased -when your improvements were a success.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I know. It sounds very natural as -you put it. But, Mr. North, it is more than -that. How shall I explain it? My mind is in -touch somehow with another mind. It is like -a conscious and quiet effortless telepathy. -Thoughts, feelings, they pass between us without -any words being necessary. It is another -mind than mine which thinks, ‘It will be better -to put that field down in lucerne this year,’ -when I had been thinking of oats. But I catch -the thought, and might not he catch mine? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>In the same way I feel when he is pleased; -that is the most certain of all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Roger North shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Such telepathy might be possible if he were -alive,” he said. “We have much to learn on -those lines. But there was no doubt as to his -fate. He was killed instantaneously at Albert.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You do not think any communication possible -after death?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a pause before North answered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Science has no evidence of it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I could not help wondering,” said Ruth -diffidently, and feeling as it were for her words, -“whether this method by which what he thinks -or wishes about Thorpe seems to come to me -might not possibly be the method used for communication -on some other plane in the place of -speech. Words are by no means a very good -medium for expressing our thoughts, do you -think?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very inadequate indeed,” agreed North. -He got up as he spoke, and passed behind her, -ostensibly to knock the ashes out of his pipe -against the window-sill. When he came back -to his chair he did not continue the line of conversation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You asked me to tell you something of my -friend, Dick Carey,” he said as he sat down. -“And at any rate what you have told me gives -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>you, I feel, the right to ask. There isn’t much -to tell. We were at school and college together. -Charterhouse and Trinity. And we knocked -about the world a good bit together till I married. -Then he took Thorpe and settled down -to farming. He loved the place, as you have -discovered. And he loved all beasts and birds. -A wonderful chap with horses, clever too on -other lines, which isn’t always the case. A -great reader and a bit of a musician. He went -to France with Kitchener’s first hundred thousand, -and he lived through two years of that -hell. He wasn’t decorated, or mentioned in -dispatches, but I saw the men he commanded, -and cared for, and fought with. They knew. -They knew what one of them called ‘the splendid -best’ of him. Oh well! I suppose he was -like many another we lost out there, but for me, -when he died, it was as if a light had gone out -and all the world was a darker place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank you,” said Ruth quite simply, yet -the words said much.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a little pause, then he added:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He became engaged to my daughter just -before he was killed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah!” The little exclamation held a world -of pain and pity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He felt glad she did not add the usual “poor -thing,” and possibly that was why he volunteered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>further. “She has married since, but I -doubt if she has got over it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was some time before either spoke again. -Then Ruth said, almost shyly, “There is just -one thing more. The buttercup field? I can’t -quite understand it. It is bad farming, that -field. The only bit of bad farming on the -place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You did not guess?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No.” Ruth looked at him, her head a little -on one side, her brow drawn, puzzled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He kept it for its beauty,” said North. “It -is a wonderful bit of colour you know, that -sheeted gold,” he added almost apologetically, -when for a moment Ruth did not answer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But she was mentally kicking herself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course!” she exclaimed. “How utterly -stupid of me. I ought to have understood. -How utterly and completely stupid of me. I -have never thought of what he would wish from -that point of view. I have been simply trying -to farm well. And I love that field for its beauty -too. Look at it in the western sunlight against -the may hedge.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was the same with the may hedges,” said -North. “A fellow who came here to buy pigs -said they ought to be grubbed up, they were -waste of land. He wanted railings. He -thought old Dick mad when he said he got his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>value out of them to look at, and good value -too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I didn’t know about the hedges wasting -land,” said Ruth. “But I might have grubbed -up the buttercups.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked so genuinely distressed that North -laughed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t let this idea of yours get on your -nerves,” he said kindly. “Believe me it is -really only what I said, and don’t worry about -it. I am glad though that you love the place -so much. It would have hurt to have it spoilt -or neglected, or with some one living here who—jarred. -Indeed, to own the truth, I have been -afraid to come here; I could not face it. But -now”—he paused, then ended the sentence -deliberately—“I am glad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank you,” she said again, in that quiet -simple way of hers, and for a while they sat on -in silence. The warmth was still great, the -stillness perfect, save for the occasional sleepy -twitter of a bird in its nest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Never since Dick Carey had been killed had -he felt so at rest. The burden of pain seemed -to drop away. The bitterness and resentment -faded. He felt as so often in the old days, when -he had come from some worry or fret or care -in the outer world or in his own home, to the -peace of the farm, to Dick’s smile, to Dick’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>understanding. Almost it seemed that he was -not dead, had never gone away. And he -thought of his friend, for the first time since that -telegram had come, without an anguish of pain -or longing, thought of him as he used to, when -the morrow, or the next week at least, meant -the clasp of his hand, his “Hullo, old Roger,” -and the content which belongs to the mere presence -only of some one or two people alone in -our journey through life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He wisely made no attempt to analyse the -why and wherefore. He remembered with -thankfulness that he had left word at home that -he might be late, and just sat on and on while -peace and healing came dropping down like dew.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And this quite marvellous woman never tried -to make conversation, or fussed about, moving -things. She just sat there looking out at the -spring world as a child looks at a play that -enthralls.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had no beauty and could never have had, -either of feature or colouring, only a slender -length of limb, a certain poise, small head and -hands and feet, and a light that shone behind -her steady eyes. A soul that wonders and -worships shines even in our darkness. She gave -the impression of strength and of tranquillity. -Her very stillness roused him at length, and -he turned to look at her.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>She met the look with one of very pure -friendliness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I hope now I have made the plunge you will -let me come over here sometimes,” he said; -“somehow I think we are going to be friends.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think we are friends already,” she said, -smiling, “and I am very glad. One or two of -the neighbours have called and asked me to tea -parties. But I have lived such a different life. -Except for those who farm or garden we haven’t -much in common.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You have always lived on the land?” he -asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh <em>no</em>!” she laughed, looking at him with -amusement. “I lived all my life until I was -seventeen at Parson’s Green, and after that -in a little street at the back of Tottenham -Court Road, until the outbreak of war. And -then I was for four years in Belgium and Northern -France, cooking.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good heavens! And all the time this was -what you wanted!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, this was what I wanted. I didn’t know. -But this was it. And think of the luck of getting -it!” She looked at him triumphantly. -“The amazing wonderful luck! I feel as if -I ought to be on my knees, figuratively, all the -time, giving thanks.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course,” said Roger North slowly. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>“That <em>is</em> your mental attitude. No wonder -you are so unusual a person. And how about -the years that have gone before?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I sometimes wonder,” she said, thinking, -“since I have come here of course, whether -every part of our lives isn’t arranged definitely, -with a purpose, to prepare us for the next part. -It would help a bit through the bad times as -well as the good, if one knew it was so, don’t -you think?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I daresay,” Roger North answered vaguely, -as was his fashion, Ruth soon discovered, if -questioned on such things. “I wish you would -tell me something of yourself. What line you -came up along would really interest me quite -a lot. And it isn’t idle curiosity either.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a little silence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should like to tell you,” she said at length.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But she was conscious at the back of her mind -that some one else was interested too, and it -was that some one else whom she wanted most -of all to tell.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span> - <h2 id='II' class='c005'>CHAPTER II</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth Seer’s father had been a clergyman -of the Church of England, and had -spent a short life in doing, in the eyes of his -family—a widowed mother and an elderly -sister—incredibly foolish things.</p> - -<p class='c007'>To begin with he openly professed what were -then considered extreme views, and thereby -hopelessly alienated the patron of the comfortable -living on which his mother’s eye had -been fixed when she encouraged his desire to -take Holy Orders.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“As if lighted candles, and flowers on the -altar, and that sort of thing, mattered two -brass farthings when £800 a year was at stake,” -wailed Mrs. Seer, to a sympathizing friend.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Paul Seer then proceeded to fall in love, and -with great promptitude married the music mistress -at the local High School for Girls. She -was adorably pretty, with the temper of an -angel, and they succeeded in being what Mrs. -Seer described as “wickedly happy” in a state -of semi-starvation on his curate’s pay of £120 -a year.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>They had three children with the greatest -possible speed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That two died at birth Mrs. Seer looked upon -as a direct sign of a Merciful Providence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Poor lady, she had struggled for so many -years on a minute income, an income barely -sufficient for one which had to provide for three, -to say nothing of getting the boy educated -by charity, that it was small wonder if a heart -and mind, narrow to start with, had become -entirely ruled by the consideration of ways and -means.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And, the world being so arranged that ways -and means do bulk iniquitously large in most -people’s lives, obliterating, even against their -will, almost everything else by comparison, perhaps -it was also a Merciful Providence which -took the boyish curate and his small wife to -Itself within a week of each other, during the -first influenza epidemic. You cannot work very -hard, and not get enough food or warmth, and at -the same time hold your own against the Influenza -Fiend when he means business. So, at the -age of three, the Benevolent Clergy’s Orphanage, -Parson’s Green, London, S.E., swallowed -Ruth Courthope Seer. A very minute figure -all in coal black, in what seemed to her a -coal-black world. For many a long year, in -times of depression, that sense of an all pervading -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>blackness would swallow Ruth up, -struggle she never so fiercely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Asked, long after she had left it, what the -Orphanage was like, she answered instantly and -without thought:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was an ugly place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>That was the adjective which covered to her -everything in it, and the life she led there. It -was ugly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Matron was the widow of a Low Church -parson. A worthy woman who looked on life -as a vale of tears, on human beings as miserable -sinners, and on joy and beauty as a distinct -mark of the Beast.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She did her duty by the orphans according to -the light she possessed. They were sufficiently -fed, and kept warm and clean. They learnt the -three R’s, sewing and housework. Also to play -“a piece” on the piano, and a smattering of -British French. The Orphanage still in these -days considered that only three professions -were open to “ladies by birth.” They must -be either a governess, a companion, or a hospital -nurse.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Matron inculcated the virtues of gratitude, -obedience and contentment, and two great -precepts, “You must bow to the Will of God” -and “You must behave like a lady.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The Will of God” seemed to typify every -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>unpleasant thing that could possibly happen to -you; and Ruth, in the beginnings of dawning -thought, always pictured It as a large purple-black -storm-cloud, which descended on all and -sundry at the most unexpected moments, and -before which the dust blew and the trees were -bent double, and human beings were scattered -as with a flail. And in Ruth’s mind the storm-cloud -was peculiarly terrible because unaccompanied -by rain.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With regard to the second precept, when -thought progressed still farther, and she began -to reason things out, she one day electrified the -whole Orphanage when rebuked for unladylike -behaviour, by standing up and saying, firmly -but politely, “If you please, Matron, I don’t -want to be a lady. I want to be a little girl.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But for the most part she was a silent child -and gave little trouble.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Twice a year a severe lady, known as “your -Grandmother,” and a younger less severe lady, -known as “your Aunt Amelia,” came to see -her, and they always hoped she “was a good -girl.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Aunt Amelia ceased to come, for she had -gone out to India to be married, and “your -Grandmother” came alone. And then Grandmother -died and went to heaven, and nobody -came to see Ruth any more. Only a parcel -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>came, an event hitherto unknown in Ruth’s drab -little existence, and of stupendous interest. It -contained a baby’s first shoe, a curl of gold hair -in a tiny envelope, labelled “Paul, aged 2,” in -a pointed writing, a letter in straggling round -hand beginning “My dear Mamma,” another -letter in neat copper plate beginning “My dear -Mother,” and a highly coloured picture of St. -George attacking the dragon, signed “Paul -Courthope Seer,” with the date added in the -pointed writing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was many years later that Ruth first understood -the pathos of that parcel.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When she was seventeen the Committee found -a situation for her as companion to a lady. The -Matron recommended her as suitable for the -position, and the Committee informed her, on -the solemn occasion when she appeared before -them to receive their parting valediction, delivered -by the Chairman, that she was extremely -lucky to secure a situation in a Christian household -where she would not only have every comfort, -but even Every Luxury.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So Ruth departed to a large and heavily furnished -house, where the windows were only -opened for a half an hour each day while the servants -did the rooms, and which consequently -smelt of the bodies of the people who lived in it. -Every day, except Sunday, she went for a drive -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>with an old lady in a brougham with both windows -closed. On fine warm days she walked -out with an old lady leaning on her arm. Every -morning she read the newspaper aloud. At -other times she picked up dropped stitches in -knitting, played Halma, or read a novel aloud, -by such authors as Rhoda Broughton or Mrs. -Hungerford.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Any book less calculated to have salutary -effect on a young girl who never spoke to any -man under fifty, and that but rarely, can hardly -be imagined.</p> - -<p class='c007'>If there had been an animal in the house, or -a garden round it, Ruth might have struggled -longer. As it was, at the end of three months -she proved to be one of the Orphanage’s few -failures and, without even consulting the Committee, -gave notice, and took a place as shop -assistant to a second-hand bookseller in a small -back street off the Tottenham Court Road. -And here Ruth stayed and worked for the space -of seventeen years—to be exact, until the year -of the Great War, 1914.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Committee ceased to take an interest in -her, and her Aunt Amelia, still in India, ceased -to write at Christmas, and Ruth’s last frail -links with the world of her father were broken.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a strange life for a girl in the little -bookshop, but at any rate she had achieved -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>some measure of freedom, she had got rid of -the burden of her ladyhood, and in some notable -directions her starved intelligence was fed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her master, Raphael Goltz, came of the most -despised of all race combinations; he was a -German Jew, and he possessed the combined -brain-power of both races.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had the head of one of Michael Angelo’s -apostles, on the curious beetle-shaped body of -the typical Jew. He was incredibly mean, and -rather incredibly dirty, and he had three passions—books, -music, and food.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When he discovered in his new assistant a -fellow lover of the two first, and an intelligence -considerably above the average, he taught her -how and what to read, and to play and sing -great music not unworthily. With regard to -the third, he taught her, in his own interest, -to be a cook of supreme excellence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And on the whole Ruth was not unhappy. -Sometimes she looked her loneliness in the face, -and the long years struck at her like stones. -Sometimes her dying, slowly dying, youth called -to her in the night watches, and she counted the -hours of the grey past years, hours and hours -with nothing of youth’s meed of joy and love -in them. But for the most part she strangled -these thoughts with firm hands. There was -nothing to be gained by them, for there was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>nothing to be done. An untrained woman, -without money or people, must take what she -can get and be thankful.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She read a great many both of the wisest and -of the most beautiful books in the world, she -listened to music played by the master hand, -and her skilled cooking interested her. As the -years went on, old Goltz left the business more -and more to her, spending his time in his little -back parlour surrounded by his beloved first -editions, which he knew better by now than to -offer for sale, drawing the music of the spheres -from his wonderful Bluthner piano, and steadily -smoking. He gave Ruth a sitting-room of -her own upstairs, and allowed her to take in -the two little dogs Sarah and Selina. On Saturday -afternoons and Sundays she would take -train into the country, and tramp along miles -with them in the world she loved.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then, when it seemed as if life were going -on like that for ever and ever, came the breathless -days before August 4, 1914, those days -when the whole world stood as it were on tiptoe, -waiting for the trumpet signal.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ah well! there was something of the wonder -and glory of war, of which we had read, about -it then—before we knew—yes, before we knew! -The bugle call—the tramp of armed men—the -glamour of victory and great deeds—and of sacrifice -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>too,—of sacrifice too. The love of one’s -country suddenly made concrete as it were. -Just for that while, at any rate, no one thinking -of himself, or personal profit. Personal glory, -perhaps, which is a better matter. Every one -standing ready. “Send me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The world felt cleaner, purer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a wonderful time. Too wonderful to -last perhaps. But the marks last. At any rate -we have known. We have seen white presences -upon the hills. We have heard the voices of the -Eternal Gods.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The greatest crime in history. Yes. But we -were touched to finer issues in those first days.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then Raphael Goltz woke up too. He -talked to Ruth in the hot August evenings instead -of sleeping. Even she was astonished at -what the old man knew. He had studied foreign -politics for years. He knew that the cause -of the war lay farther back, much farther back -than men realized. He saw things from a wide -standpoint. He was a German Jew by blood -and in intellect, Jew by nature, but England -had always been his home. That he loved her -well Ruth never had any doubt after those -evenings.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He never thought, though, that it would come -to war. It seemed to him impossible. “It -would be infamy,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>And then it came. Came with a shock, and -yet with a strange sense of exhilaration about -it. Men who had stood behind counters, and -sat on office stools since boyhood, stretched -themselves, as the blood of fighting forefathers -stirred in their veins. They were still the sons -of men who had gone voyaging with Drake -and Frobisher, of men who had sailed the seven -seas, and fought great fights, and found strange -lands, and died brave deaths, in the days when -a Great Adventure was possible for all. For -them too had, almost inconceivably, come the -chance to get away from greyly monotonous -days which seemed like “yesterday come back”; -for them too was the Great Adventure possible. -The lad who, under Ruth’s supervision, took -down shutters, cleaned boots, knives and windows, -swept the floors and ran errands, was -among the first to go, falsifying his age by two -years, and it was old Raphael Goltz, German -Jew, who even in those first days knew the war -as the crime of all the ages.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was the next, and he helped her too; -while the authorities turned skilled workers -down, and threw cold water in buckets on the -men and women standing shoulder to shoulder -ready for any sacrifice in those first days, old -Raphael Goltz, knowing the value of Ruth’s -cooking and physical soundness, found her the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>money to offer her services free—old Raphael -Goltz, who through so many years had been so -incredibly mean. He disliked dogs cordially, -yet he undertook the care of Sarah and Selina -in her absence. To Ruth’s further amazement, -he also gave her introductions of value to leading -authorities in Paris who welcomed her -gladly and sent her forthwith into an estaminet -behind the lines in Northern France.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Something of her childhood in the Orphanage, -and of the long years with Raphael Goltz, Ruth -told North, as they sat together in the warmth -and stillness of the May evening, but of the -years in France she spoke little. She had -seen unspeakable things there. The memory -of them was almost unbearable. They were -things she held away from thought. Beautiful -and wonderful things there were too, belonging -to those years. But they were still more impossible -to speak of. She carried the mark of -them both, the terrible and the beautiful, in her -steady eyes. Besides, some one else, who was -interested too, who was surely—the consciousness -was not to be ignored—interested too, -knew all about that. And suddenly she realized -how that common knowledge of life and -death at their height was also a bond, as well as -love of Thorpe, and she paused in her tale, and -sat very still.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>“And then?” said North, after a while.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was out there for two years, without coming -home, the first time. There seemed nothing -for me to come home for, and I didn’t want to -leave. There was always so much to be done, -and one felt of use. It was selfish of me really, -but I never realized somehow that Raphael Goltz -cared. Then I had bad news from him. You remember -the time when the mobs wrecked the -shops with German names? Well, his was one -of them. So I got leave and came back to him. -It was very sad. The old shop was broken -to pieces, his books had been thrown into the -street and many burnt, and the piano, his beautiful -piano, smashed past all repair. I found -him up in the back attic, with Sarah and Selina. -He had saved them for me somehow. He -cried when I came. He was very old, you see, -and he had felt the war as much as any of -us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her eyes were full of tears, and she stopped -for a moment to steady her voice. “He bore -no malice, and three days after I got back he -died, babbling the old cry, ‘We ought to have -been friends.’</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was always that, ‘We ought to have been -friends,’ and once he said, ‘Together we could -have regenerated the world.’ He left everything -he had to me, over £60,000. It is to him -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>I owe Thorpe.” Her eyes shone through the -tears in them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come! and let me show you,” she said, and -so almost seemed to help him out of his chair, -and then, still holding his hand, led him through -the door behind them, along the passage into -the front hall. Here he stopped, and undoubtedly -but for the compelling hand would have -gone no farther. But the soft firm grip held, -and something with it, some force outside both -of them, drew him after her into the room that -once was his friend’s. A spacious friendly -room, with wide windows looking south and -west, and filled just now with the light of a -cloudless sunset.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And the dreaded moment held nothing to fear. -Nothing was changed. Nothing was spoilt. He -had expected something, which to him, unreasonably -perhaps, but uncontrollably, would have -seemed like sacrilege; instead he found it was -sanctuary. Sanctuary for that, to him, annihilated -personality which had been the companion -of the best years of his life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dick might have come back at any moment -and found his room waiting for him, as it had -waited on many a spring evening just like this. -His capacious armchair was still by the window. -The big untidy writing-table, with its many -drawers and pigeon-holes, in its place. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>piano where he used to sit and strum odd bits of -music by ear.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But it is all just the same,” he said, standing -like a man in a dream when Ruth dropped -his hand inside the threshold.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was offered the furniture with the house,” -she said, “and when I saw this room I felt I -wanted it just as it is. Before that I had all -sorts of ideas in my head as to how I would -furnish! But this appealed to me. There is -an air of space and comfort and peace about -the room that I could not bear to disturb. And -now I am very glad, because I feel he is pleased. -Of course, his more personal things have gone, -and I have added a few things of my own. -Look, this is what I brought you to see.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She pointed towards the west window, where -stood an exquisitely carved and gilded table of -foreign workmanship which was new to him, -and on it burnt a burnished bronze lamp, its -flame clear and bright even in the fierce glow of -the setting sun. Beside the lamp stood a glass -vase, very beautiful in shape and clarity, filled -with white pinks.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North crossed the room and examined the -lamp with interest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What does it mean?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is a custom of the orthodox Jews. When -anyone belonging to them dies, they keep a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>lamp burning for a year. The flame is never -allowed to go out. It is a symbol. A symbol -of the Life Eternal. All the years of the war -Raphael Goltz kept this lamp burning for the -men who went West. You see it is in the west -window. And now I keep it burning for him. -You don’t think <em>he</em> would mind, although my -poor old master <em>was</em> a German Jew, racially?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked up at North anxiously, as they -stood side by side before the lamp.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not Dick—certainly not Dick!” said North. -Ruth heaved a sigh of relief.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see, I don’t really know anything about -him except what I feel about the farm, and I -did want the lamp here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, Dick wouldn’t mind. But you are mad, -you know, quite mad!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For all that his eyes were very kindly as he -looked down at her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I expect it is being so much alone,” she said -tranquilly, stooping to smell the pinks.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Was Goltz an orthodox Jew then?” asked -North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh no, very far from it. He wasn’t anything -in the least orthodox. If you could have -known him!” Ruth laughed a little. “But he -had some queer religion of his own. He believed -in Beauty, and that it was a revelation of -something very great and wonderful, beyond -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>the wildest dreams of a crassly ignorant and -blind humanity. That glass vase was his. -Have you noticed the wonderful shape of it? -And look now with the light shining through. -Do you think it is a shame to put flowers in it? -But their scent is the incense on the altar.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, that’s the idea, is it?” said North. He -spoke very gently, as one would to a child showing -you its treasures.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“This place is full of altars,” said Ruth, her -eyes looking west. “Do you know the drive in -the little spinney? All one broad blue path of -hyacinths, and white may trees on either side.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, that’s the idea, is it?” said North. He -in his voice—“you mean Dick’s ‘Pathway to -Heaven’!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did he call it that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He said it was so blue it must be.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, and it seems to vanish into space between -the trees.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“As I must,” said North. “I have paid you -an unwarrantable visitation, and I shall only -just get home now before lighting-up time.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You will come again?” said Ruth as they -went down the garden. “I want to show you -the site for my cottages. I <em>think</em> it is the right -one.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Cottages?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I am going to build three. My lawyer -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>tells me it is economically an unsound investment. -My conscience tells me it has got to be -done, if I am to enjoy Thorpe properly. Two -couples are waiting to be married until the -cottages are ready, and one man is working here -and his wife living in London because there is -no possible place for them. I am giving him -a room here at present.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North raised his eyebrows.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you take in anybody promiscuously who -comes along?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, this man went through four years of -the war. Was a sergeant, and holds the Mons -Medal and the D.C.M. He is a painter by trade, -and worked for Baxter, who is putting up a -billiard-room and a garage at Mentmore Court.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mentmore Court?” North looked across at -the big white house on the hill. “Why, there is -a billiard-room and a garage there already.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe they are turning the existing billiard-room -into a winter garden, or something -of that sort. And they have six cars, so the -present garage is not big enough.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your cottages will probably be of more use -to the country,” said North. “I hear he made -his money in leather, and his name is Pithey. -Do you know him?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, he took a ‘fancy’ to my Shorthorns, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>and walked in last week to ask if I’d sell. Price -was no object. He fancied them. Then he took -a fancy to some of the furniture and offered to -buy that, and finally he said if I was open to -take ‘a profit on my deal’ over the farm, he was -prepared to go to a fancy price for it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North stopped and looked at her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you making it up?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth bubbled over into an irrepressible -laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When he went away he told me not to worry. -Mrs. Pithey <em>was</em> coming to call, but she had been -so busy, and now those lazy dogs of workmen -couldn’t be out of the place for another month -at least.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And my wife is worrying me to call on him,” -groaned North. “Halloo, where is Larry?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He was there a moment ago; I saw him just -before you stopped, but I never saw him jump -out.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North called in vain until he gave a peculiar -whistle, which brought a plainly reluctant Larry -to view.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He doesn’t want to come with me,” said -North. “Get in, Larry.” And Larry obeyed -the peremptory command, while Ruth checked -an impulse to suggest that she should keep him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As the car started slowly up the hill he turned, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>laying his black and tan velvet muzzle on the -back of the hood. Long after they had vanished, -Ruth was haunted by the wistful amber -eyes looking at her from a cloud of dust.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Slowly she went up home through the scented -evening. It had been a wonderful day. And -she had made a friend. It was not such an -event as it would have been before she went to -France, but it was sufficiently uplifting even -now. She sang to herself as she went. And -then quite suddenly she thought of the man in -the brown suit. “I wonder who he was, and -where he disappeared to,” she said to herself, -as she answered Miss McCox’s injured summons -to supper.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span> - <h2 id='III' class='c005'>CHAPTER III</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>“My dear Roger,” said Mrs. North, with -that peculiar guinea-hen quality in her -voice which it was her privilege and pleasure -to keep especially for her husband, “have you -nothing of interest to tell us? No one has seen -you since four o’clock yesterday afternoon. At -any rate, not to speak to.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North looked across the beautifully appointed -lunch-table at the ill-chosen partner of his joys -and sorrows, while the silence, which usually -followed one of her direct attacks on him, fell -upon the party surrounding it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I see you brought Larry back with you, -and conclude you found him at Thorpe,” continued -Mrs. North, “and I suppose you saw -Miss Seer. As it is a moot point whether we -call on her or not, you might rouse yourself so -far as to tell us what you thought of her. I -am sure Arthur would like to hear too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very much! Very much!” said the fair, -cherubic-looking little man sitting on her right -hand. “Thorpe was such a pleasant house in -poor dear Carey’s time. It would be a serious -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>loss if the new owner were impossible. I look -upon the changes in the neighbourhood very -seriously, very seriously indeed. I was only -thinking yesterday that of our old circle only -poor old Mentmore, the Condors, and ourselves -are left. The Court and Whitemead both -bought by newly rich people, whom I really -dread inspecting.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The St. Ubes may be all right,” interpolated -Mrs. North. “I hear they made their money -doing something with shipping, and St. Ubes -does not sound a bad name.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” allowed Mr. Fothersley. “No. Yet -I do not remember to have heard it before. It -has a Cornish sound. We must inquire. They -have not arrived yet, I gather, as the new servants’ -wing is not ready. But the people at -the Grange, I fear, are not only Jews, but German -Jews! What a <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">milieu</span></i>! And we were -such a happy little set before the war, very -happy—yes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“At any rate,” said the fourth member of -the lunch party, a very beautiful young woman, -the only child and married daughter of the -house, “they have all an amazing amount of -money, which I have no doubt they are prepared -to spend, and the German Jews I conclude you -will not take up. As for Thorpe, it is disgusting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>that anyone should have it. What <em>is</em> -the woman like, father?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, all right,” said North. “She is looking -after the place well, and hasn’t been seized with -the present mania for building billiard-rooms -and winter gardens and lordly garages.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But what is she <em>like</em>?” asked Mrs. North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is she a lady, or isn’t she? You can’t call -on a woman because she hasn’t built a winter -garden.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why not?” returned her husband, in his -most irritating fashion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“By the way,” interposed Mr. Fothersley -adroitly, “I hear Miss Seer intends building -cottages. A thing I do not consider at all desirable.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why not?” asked his host again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We want nothing of that sort in Mentmore,” -said Fothersley decisively. “It is, in its way, -the most perfect specimen of an English village -in the country—I might say in England. Building -new cottages is only the thin end of the -wedge.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They appear to be wanted,” said North, -pushing the cigars towards his guest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is the Government’s business,” answered -Mr. Fothersley, making a careful selection. -“And we may at least hope they will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>put them up in suitable places. Thank Heaven -the price of land here is prohibitive. There, -however, is the danger of these newly rich -people. They must spend their money somehow. -However, it may not be true. I only -heard it this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did she say anything about it, Roger?” -asked Mrs. North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes she mentioned it,” answered North -curtly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. North made an exaggerated gesture of -despair as she struggled with a cigarette. She -had never succeeded in mastering the art of -smoking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you going to tell us what we want to -know or not?” she asked, with ominous calmness. -“Do you advise calling on the woman, -or don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Here Violet Riversley broke in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When will you learn to put things quite -plainly to father?” she asked. “You know he -can’t understand our euphuisms. I suppose it’s -one of the defects of a scientific brain.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She helped herself to a cigarette and held -it out to North for a light.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What we want to know, father, is just this. -Do you think Miss Seer is likely to subscribe -to the Hunt and various other things we are -interested in? If to this she adds the desire -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>to entertain us, so much the better, but the -subscriptions are the primary things.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no, my dear!” exclaimed Mr. Fothersley, -deeply pained. “That is just what I complain -about in you young people of the present -day. You have not the social sense—you——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dear Arthur,” Violet cut him short ruthlessly, -“don’t be a humbug with me. Your -Violet has known you since she was two years -old. Let us in our family circle be honest. -Lord Mentmore and the Condors called on the -Pithey people because Mr. Pithey has subscribed -liberally to the Hunt, and you and -mother have called because they did. Incidentally -they will probably give us excellent dinners. -All I can say is, I hope you will draw the -line at the German Jews, however much money -they have.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, Roger,” said Mrs. North, who had -kept her eyes fixed on her husband during -her daughter’s diversion, “shall I call or not? -Surely you are the proper person to advise me, -as you have met Miss Seer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North frowned irritably.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I certainly should not call,” he said, -rising from the table. “She <em>is</em> a lady, but you -would have nothing in common, and I should -not think she has enough money to make it -worth while from the point of view Vi has put -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>so delicately before us. That all right, Vi?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>His daughter rose too, and slipped her arm -through his.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Quite good for you!” she said. “And now -come and smoke your cigar with me in the garden. -Arthur will excuse you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly! Certainly!” said Mr. Fothersley, -who sincerely liked both husband and wife -apart, and inwardly deplored the necessity that -they should ever be together. He recognized -the lack of fine feeling in the wife which so constantly -irritated the husband, but which did not -alienate Fothersley himself because his own -mind moved really on the same plane, in that he -cherished no finer ideals. He recognized, too, -the corresponding irritation North’s total lack -of the social instinct was to a woman of his -wife’s particular type. Pretty, vivacious, with -a passionate love of dress, show, and amusement, -Mrs. North would have liked to go to a -party of some sort, or give one, every day in the -year. She was an admirable and successful -hostess, and Mr. Fothersley was wont to declare -that Mentmore would be lost without Mrs. -North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were great friends. Mr. Fothersley had -never seen his way to embark on matrimony. -At the same time he enjoyed the society of -women. As a matter of fact he was on terms -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>of platonic, genuinely platonic, friendship, with -every attractive woman within reasonable reach -of Mentmore. Undoubtedly, however, Mrs. -North held the first place. For one thing the -Norths were his tenants, occupying the Dower -House on his estate. It was always easy to run -across to Westwood, hot foot with any little -bit of exciting gossip. They both took a lively -interest in their neighbours’ private affairs. -Violet Riversley had once said that if there -was nothing scandalous to talk about, they -evolved something, after the fashion of the -newspapers in the silly season. They both -loved, not money, but the things which money -means. To give a perfect little dinner, rich -with all the delicacies of the season, was to -them both a keen delight. He was nearly as -fond of pretty clothes as she was, and liked to -escort her to the parties, where she was always -the centre of the liveliest group and from -which North shrank in utter boredom. They -agreed on all points on matters of the day, both -social and political; he gathered his opinions -from <cite>The Times</cite> and she from the <cite>Daily Mail</cite>. -He looked upon her as an extremely clever and -intelligent woman. Also he was in entire -sympathy with her intense and permanent -resentment against her husband because he had -persisted in devoting to further chemical research -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>the very large sums of money which his -scientific discoveries had brought him in from -time to time. The fact that, in addition to -these sums, he derived a considerable income -from a flourishing margarine factory started -by his late father’s energy and enterprise, of -which income she certainly spent by far the -larger portion, consoled her not at all. She -spent much, but she could very easily have -spent more. She too could have done with -four or five cars, she too could have enlarged -and expanded in various expensive directions, -even as these new <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">nouveaux riches</span></i>. Fothersley, -who devoutly held the doctrine that not -only whatsoever a man earned, but whatsoever -he inherited, was for his own and his family’s -benefit and spending, with a reasonable contribution -to local charities, or any exceptional -collection in time of stress authorized by the -Mayor, felt that Mrs. North’s resentment was -wholly natural. A yearly contribution of, say, -twenty-five guineas, to research would have -amply covered any possible claim on even a -scientist’s philanthropy in this direction, and -he had even told North so.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Therefore it was only natural for Mrs. North -to turn to him, even more than to her other -friends, for sympathy and understanding.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There now!” she exclaimed as her husband -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>left the room. “Can you imagine any man being -so disagreeable and surly? Just because -he was asked a perfectly natural question. -And I shall certainly call on the woman.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe she is quite possible from all I -have heard,” said Mr. Fothersley, adroitly -lighting Mrs. North’s cigarette, which had gone -out. “As you know, I mean to call myself, if -you would prefer to wait for my report.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank you. But may as well come with -you. I shall probably be a help, and you see -Roger says she is a lady, and, funnily enough, -he really knows. I expect she is as dull as -ditchwater; I hear she was something in the nature -of a companion before she came into some -money. But anything must be better than the -Pitheys.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shuddered as she replenished Mr. Fothersley’s -wineglass.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They appear from all accounts to be very -bad,” sighed Mr. Fothersley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I could bear their commonness,” said Mrs. -North, “one has got used to it these days, when -one meets everyone everywhere, but it is the -man’s self-satisfaction that is so overpowering. -However, I am depending on you to look after -him this afternoon. Roger won’t, and Violet -is nearly as bad. I don’t know if you have noticed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>it, but Violet is getting Roger’s nasty sarcastic -way of saying things, and she always -seems to back him up now against me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her pretty eyes were tearful, and Mr. Fothersley -looked distressed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dear Violet has never been the same since -poor Carey’s death,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. North agreed. “And yet, as you know,” -she added, “I never really approved of the engagement. -Poor Dick was a dear—no one -could help liking him; but, after all, there was -no getting away from the fact that he was old -enough to be her father, and besides he was -not very well off, and owing to Roger’s folly, -wasting his money as he has, we could not have -made Violet a big allowance. Really, you know, -Fred is a much better match for her in every -way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Quite, quite,” assented Mr. Fothersley. -“But there is no doubt she felt Carey’s death -very much at the time. I certainly have noticed -a difference in her since, which her marriage -has not dispelled. But indeed all the -young people seem altered since this terrible -war—there is—how shall I put it?—a want of -reticence—of respect for the conventions.” -Mr. Fothersley shook his head. “I regret it -very much—very much.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the meantime North and his daughter had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>wandered out into the shade of the great beech-tree -which was the crowning glory of an exquisite -lawn. The garden was in full perfection -this wonderful May, and the gardeners were -busy putting the finishing touches before the -afternoon’s party. Not a weed or stray leaf -was to be seen. Every edge was clipped to -perfection. The three tennis courts were newly -marked out, their nets strung to the exact -height, while six new balls were neatly arranged -on each service line. Presently Mrs. North -would come out and say exactly where each -chair and table should go.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet Riversley looked at the pretty friendly -scene with her beautiful gold brown eyes, and -the misery in them was like a devouring fire. -She was one of the tragedies of the war. She -could neither endure nor forget. With her -mother’s good looks, pleasure-loving temperament, -and quick temper, she had much of her -father’s ability. Spoilt from her cradle, she -had gone her own way and taken greedily of the -good things of this world with both hands, until -Dick Carey’s death had smitten her life into -ruins.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was twenty-four, and she had never before -known pain, sorrow or trouble. Always -she had had everything she wanted. Other -people’s griefs passed her by. She simply had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>no understanding of them. She was not generous, -because she never realized what it was -to go without. And yet everyone liked and -many loved her. She was so gay and glad and -beautiful a thing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When she said good-bye to Dick Carey, she -was simply unable to grasp that he could be -taken from her, and when the news of his death -came she had passionately and vehemently -fought against the agony and pain and desolation -that came with it. She had genuinely -and really loved him, and nothing, absolutely -nothing, seemed left. There was no pleasure -any more in anything. That was what she could -not understand, could not cope with. Her conventional -faith fell from her, and she let it go -without a struggle. But her happiness she refused -to let go. She clung to it, or to the mirage -of it, savagely, desperately. Dick was -dead, yes, and she wanted him with a devouring -hunger. But all the other things were left. -Things she had loved. Things that had made -her happy. She would not let them go.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After a brief space, in which the devils of -bitterness and resentment and impotent wrath -rent her in pieces, she took up her old life again, -with apparently added zest. Her friends said -“Violet was very plucky,” and no one was -astonished when after a year she accepted and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>married Fred Riversley. It was altogether a -more suitable match than one with poor Dick -Carey. Riversley was of more suitable age, -rich, devoted, and a good fellow, and as -North said to her best friends, “Violet was -never suited for the wife of a poor man.” Only -Roger North watched her anxiously at times. -She had been her mother’s child before, but -since Dick’s death she had turned more and -more to her father. Something of his dogged -patient strength of mind seemed to become -clear to her. Something of the courage with -which he faced life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She remembered a saying of his one day when -her mother had been flagrantly unjust and bitter -to him on some matter of expenditure, so that -even she had felt ashamed. Whatever her -father’s faults, his generosity was past question. -She had gone into the study and striven -to make amends, and he had looked at her with -those tired humorous eyes of his and said:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear, nothing can hurt you if you don’t -let it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She seized on that as some sort of creed amid -the welter of all she had ever thought she believed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She would not let things hurt her, She -plunged more eagerly than ever into the amusements -of her world. After her marriage she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>started and ran a smart officers’ hospital in -London. Mrs. Riversley’s name was on many -committees. She was a noted giver of the then -fashionable boy and girl dances. A celebrated -personage said she reminded him of a human -fire. There seemed a fever in her body, a restlessness -which never left her. Since the cessation -of hostilities this restlessness had increased, -or possibly now that others were ceasing -their activities it was more noticeable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>While North sat smoking his cigar she fetched -a racquet and began to practice her service on -the court nearest him. She served over-hand -a swift hard service, and North watched the -long slim line of her figure, her exquisite poise, -as she swung her racquet above her head and -drove the ball home. It was typical somehow -of the driving force that seemed behind her -restlessness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently she stopped, and came and sat -down close beside him, and when he looked at -her he saw that her mask was down and the -tormented soul of her for a moment bare.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It all looks just the same as ever, doesn’t -it!” she said. “And we’ve got to get through -it somehow to the very end.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear,” began her father, and stopped. -A blank hideous horror of emptiness possessed -him. He shivered in the hot sunshine. There -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>was nothing to say. He had no comfort to give -her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Heaven knows I’ve done my best,” she said. -“I swore I wouldn’t let Dick’s death spoil my -life. I married Fred because he could give me -everything else—everything but what was impossible, -and he’s a good fellow.” She paused, -then went on again, her voice very low and thin. -“There’s only one thing would do me any good—if -I could hurt those who’ve hurt me. That -God, who let all this happen. I’m not the only -one. That God they teach us is almighty, and -this is the best he can do for us. You don’t -believe He’s there at all, father—oh no, you -don’t—I’m not a fool! But I do, and I see -Him watching it all happening, <em>letting</em> it all -happen, according to plan, as those damned -Germans used to say. If only I could hurt them—hurt -them myself. If they had only one neck -that I could wring—with my own two hands—slowly—very -slowly—I think that would do me -good.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North pulled himself together.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How long have you been feeling like this, -Vi?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ever since they killed Dick,” she said dully, -as if the fire had smouldered down, after a -sudden sheet of flame. “I think I am made -up of hate, father. It’s the strongest thing in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>me. It’s so strong that I can’t love any more. -I don’t think I love Dick now. And Fred, -sometimes I hate Fred, and he’s a good fellow, -you know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The words filled North with a vague uncanny -horror. He struggled after normal, everyday -words, but for a moment none came. He knew -the girl was overwrought, suffering from strain, -but what was it that had looked at him out of -those vehement, passionate eyes?</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Look here, Vi,” he said at length, striving -to speak naturally, “you are just imagining -things. Can’t you take a pull on yourself and -go easy for a bit? You’re overdoing it, you -know, and these sort of ideas are the result.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m sorry, father.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She bent sideways, letting her head rest -against his shoulder, and seeking his hand, held -it close. Such a demonstration was foreign to -her with him. When she was small, some queer -form of jealousy on her mother’s part had come -between them. He felt shy and awkward.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know what made me break out like -that,” she went on. “I think it must have been -coming back here and seeing everything just -the same as it used to be before the war came. -Until to-day, when I’ve been down it’s been so -quiet and different, with no parties, and nothing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>going on. Now it’s gone back like everything -else is going back—only I cannot.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing goes back, dear,” answered North. -“It’s not the same for anyone really. Not even -for the quiet young people who’ll come and -play here without a trouble as you used to. -But there’s always the interest of going forward. -If we’ve suffered, at least we’ve gained -experience from it, which is knowledge. And -there’s always some work to be done for every -season that could not be done sooner or later. -That helps, I think.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dear old father,” she said softly. “We -used not to be really great friends in the old -days. But now somehow you’re the only person -I find any comfort in. I think perhaps it is -because we are both putting up a hard fight.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t forget the spice of life is battle, Vi, -as Stevenson has it. I’m inclined to think, -though”—he spoke slowly as one envolving a -thought new to him—“I’m inclined to think we -sometimes confuse bitterness and rebellion with -it. That’s not clean fighting. My dear, put -that hate you speak of away from you, if you -can—and have nothing to do with bitterness—they -are forces which can only make for evil.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a little pause.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t think I can, father. It’s part of me. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>Sometimes I think it’s all me, and sometimes -I’m frightened.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Look here, Vi,” said North, struggling with -a disinclination to make the proposition that -was in his mind, a disinclination that he felt -was ridiculous, “I wish you would go over to -Thorpe and get to know Miss Seer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet sat up and looked at him with wide-open -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But why? I should hate it!” she exclaimed. -“It would remind me—oh, of so many things! -It would make me feel even worse——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, so I thought,” said North. “I can -tell you I dreaded going. But the old place is -full of a—a strange sort of rest. I didn’t realize -how full of bitterness and resentment I -had been until sitting there it all dropped away -from me. It was as if a stone had been rolled -away. I hadn’t realized how it was hurting -until it left off.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He spoke disjointedly, and as if almost -against his will. He was glad when the sound -of his wife’s and Mr. Fothersley’s approaching -voices made Violet release his hand and stand -up.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You think Thorpe would lay my devils too?” -she asked, looking down at him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think,” he said gravely, “it is worth trying.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span> - <h2 id='IV' class='c005'>CHAPTER IV</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Mrs. North’s tennis party pursued its -usual successful career in the brilliant -sunshine, which, as Mr. Fothersley remembered, -always favoured her. Fred Riversley had -brought an unexpected carload of R. A. F. -boys down from London with him. This made -a tournament possible, as Mrs. North saw -at once. They drew partners with much fun -and laughter. Mr. Fothersley telephoned to -Fairbridge for a selection of prizes to be sent -out by the 4.30 bus. It was one of the charming -sort of things which Mr. Fothersley did. It -was more particularly nice of him on this particular -afternoon than usual, because, so far as -Mr. Fothersley was concerned, Mr. Pithey was -making it almost unbearable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was a large, flat, pale yellow gentleman, -with a peculiarly penetrating metallic voice. -He had a very long nose, with a broad tip curving -upwards, and small keen eyes which darted -everywhere. Without the slightest hesitation -he took the place which from time immemorial -belonged to Mr. Fothersley at all Mentmore -<span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>parties. Under the beech-tree, where by all -the rights of precedence Mr. Fothersley should -have led the conversation, Mr. Pithey’s metallic -voice held sway and drove all before it. In the -usual walk round the garden, always personally -conducted by Mr. Fothersley and his hostess, -Mr. Pithey laid down the correct lines on -which to bed out, to grow carnations, to keep -down weeds, or anything else that cropped up. -When Mr. Fothersley drew attention to the fact -that on any of the courts the final of the hard-fought -set was in progress, it was Mr. Pithey’s -voice that drowned all others as he shouted -“Well played!” and gave advice to all concerned. -In fact, Mr. Pithey dominated the -party.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. Pithy, a small blue-faced lady, very expensively -dressed, sat in a comfortable basket -chair with her feet on a stool and, unless actually -asked a question, she spoke to no one except -her husband, whom she always addressed by -name. Bertie when she remembered, ’Erb -when she forgot.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even the arrival of Lady Condor, undoubtedly -the personage of the place, made no impression -on this strange couple’s evident conviction -that they were people of supreme importance -in the universe. Lady Condor could -have put the Old Gentleman himself in his place -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>if the mood were on her, but on this occasion, -as it happened, she was frankly and evidently -entertained by the Pitheys. Mr. Fothersley -regretted it. Seldom had he looked out more -anxiously for the arrival of her wheeled chair -surrounded by its usual escort of five white -West Highlanders. Lady Condor always used -her chair, in preference to her car, for short -journeys, so that her dogs also might have an -outing. Seldom had he been more disappointed -in her, and Lady Condor was given to amazing -surprises. This was certainly one of them. Solemnly, -and as far as was possible in his manner -conveying the honour being conferred on -him, Mr. Fothersley led Mr. Pithey to Lady -Condor’s chair, so soon as she had been ensconced -by her hostess in a comfortable and -shady spot near the tea-tables and with a good -view of the tennis. Not that she ever looked -at it for more than a second at a time, she was -always too busy talking, but it was <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">de rigueur</span></i> -that she should have the best place at any entertainment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. Pithey, for the moment, it was impossible -to introduce, as it would plainly not occur to -her to leave her chair until she had finished her -tea for anybody, except, possibly, Mr. Pithey.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley effected Mr. Pithey’s introduction -admirably. The delicate shade of deference -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>in his own manner left nothing to be -desired.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“May I be allowed to present Mr. Pithey, -dear Lady Condor?” he asked, deftly bringing -that gentleman’s large pale presence into her -line of vision.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah—how-d’ye-do? No, don’t trouble to -shake hands.” She waved away a large approach. -“You can’t get at me for the dogs. -And where are my glasses? Arthur, I have -dropped them somewhere. Could it have been -in the drive? No, I had them since. What! on -my lap? Oh yes—thank you very much.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She put them on and looked at Mr. Pithey, -and Mr. Pithey looked at her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Do you -always take a pack of dogs about with you?” -Plainly Mr. Pithey disapproved. Jock and -Jinny, father and mother of the family, were -moving in an unfriendly manner round his feet. -“Just call them off, will you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley awaited the swift and complete -annihilation of Mr. Pithey. It was a -matter of doubt if even Lady Condor could have -accomplished it; at any rate, she made no attempt. -She continued to look at him with what -might almost be described as appreciation in -her shrewd eyes under their heavy lids. Only -she did not call the dogs off.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>And then, to an amazed company of the Mentmore -élite, she gave Mr. Pithey her whole and -undivided attention for the space of nearly half -an hour.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey gave his opinion as it was always -apparently his pride and pleasure to do, on -many and various things.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The old order changeth, yielding place to -new,” might have served for the text of Mr. -Pithey’s conversation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Who’s been at the head of affairs in this -village <em>I</em> don’t know,” he said largely, “but -more rotten management, more want of enterprise, -more lack of ordinary sense, I’ve never -come across. Why, you see it everywhere! -Here’s the whole place without any light, unless -you call lamps and candles light, and a stream -running through the place. Water power at -your doors, by Jingo! And money in it too, or -I shouldn’t be taking it up. Ever been in Germany?” -He gulped down his third cup of tea, -and looked around at his now more or less interested -audience.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, they’ve got electric light in every -potty little village you go to, got it there still -at this minute, and”—Mr. Pithey laid a large -yellow hand on Lady Condor’s knee—“<em>cheaper</em> -than you can get it over here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>“One really can’t believe it!” exclaimed Mrs. -North. “Surely it’s not possible!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Everything is possible,” said Lady Condor, -curiously examining Mr. Pithey’s hand through -her glasses.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was over there, staying near Cologne on -business last week,” returned Mr. Pithey impressively. -“So I ought to know. And when -you know me better, Mrs. North”—Mr. Fothersley’s -shudder was almost audible—“you’ll -know I don’t talk without my book. I got nails -over there—metal, mind you—cheaper than you -can get ’em here. P’rhaps you won’t credit -that!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He helped himself to more cake, and started -afresh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now look at the farming round about here. -Rotten, that’s what it is, rotten! Never went -in for it myself before, but I know when a concern’s -run as it should be or not. There’s -only one farm in this district that’s real tip-top, -and that’s Thorpe. It’s a little bit of a place, -but it’s well run. Run by a woman too! But -she’s a fool. If you’ll believe me, I offered -her a twenty-five per cent. profit on whatever -the price she gave for that little place, and she -wouldn’t take it. Just have suited me to play -with. And there’s one or two things there I’d -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>like up at the Court. By the way, any gentleman -or lady here got some of those old lead -water tanks they’d like a fancy price for, because -I’m a buyer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>By this time the assembly under the beech-tree -was more or less paralysed, and Mrs. North -was wondering what madness had possessed her -to be the first to ask Mr. Pithey to meet Lady -Condor. But Lady Condor continued to beam; -not only to beam, but every now and then to -break into a chuckle. And yet this was not at -all the sort of thing one would have expected -to amuse her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Old lead water tanks!” she repeated, -thoughtfully. “Dear Arthur, would you mind -putting Jock on my lap? Thank you so much. -And now Jinny! There, darlings! Don’t be -nervous, Mr. Pithey. They never really <em>bite</em> -unless you come too close. Let me see, where -were we? Oh—yes—tanks! No, I am afraid -I have none for sale just now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see,” said Mr. Pithey confidentially, -“if I get the stuff off some of you old inhabitants -I know it’s the right sort, and I don’t mind -what I pay.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you go on talking much longer, Bertie, -you’ll be late for seeing the man who’s coming -about the butler’s place,” said Mrs. Pithey, suddenly, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>from her chair. She had just finished -her tea, and swept many crumbs from her lap -as she spoke.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Quite right, my dear! Quite right!” Mr. -Pithey rose as he spoke. “I’m never late for -an appointment, Mrs. North. Matter of conscience -with me, never mind who it’s with, -butler or duke.” It was characteristic of Mr. -Pithey that he put the butler first. “Well, -good-by to you all.” Mr. Pithey shook hands -largely all round, followed by Mrs. Pithey. -“Pleased to have met your Ladyship. Sorry -not to have seen your good husband, Mrs. -North. <em>The</em> man in this place, I reckon. That -margarine business of his is one of the best -managed in Leicester, and we don’t let flies -walk on us there, anyhow. He goes in for a -bit of science and writing as well, doesn’t he? -Good all round man, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And, conscious of having been generally -pleasant, Mr. Pithey removed his large pale -presence to where his Rolls-Royce car awaited -him in the front drive.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know you will forgive me, dear lady,” -said Mr. Fothersley, his voice trembling with -emotion, “if I do not see them off.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Indeed, yes!” exclaimed Mrs. North. The -allusion to the margarine factory had made her -hot all over. “What perfectly hateful people! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>He did nothing but talk, and she did nothing -but eat!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lady Condor arose briskly from her chair, -scattering West Highlanders around her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where is Roger?” she demanded. “I am -going to be really clever if I can only concentrate -sufficiently to say what I mean. Don’t distract -my thoughts, any of you! But I must have -Roger! He is the only really brainy one among -us—at least, I mean he is the only one who’s -used his brains. I have naturally a very good -brain, but it is rusty from want of use. All -our brains are rusty. But what is it I want? -Oh yes—Roger. In his study, my dear? Let -us all go—yes. Where are my glasses, and my -gloves? Please put them in your pocket until -I go, Arthur. I cannot afford to lose them as -I used to do. Down, children! down!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She took Mrs. North’s arm, and with Mr. -Fothersley on her other hand and the dogs in -full chorus, started across the lawn toward the -house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well played, Violet! well played! The -child’s as good as ever at it. But where were -we going? Oh yes—I must have Roger. We -will surprise him through the window. He will -be very cross, but he won’t say anything because -it’s me. Ah—but there he is——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North’s long figure came out into the sunlight, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>and as he approached the group he had much -the air of a big schoolboy who had been playing -truant.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I apologize profusely,” he said. “My -intentions were of the very best. I intended to -come out to tea, but I happened on Mr. Pithey -in the hall, where he was endeavouring to purchase -Mansfield——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a chorus of exclamations.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, he was asking Mansfield to recommend -him a good butler for a gentleman’s establishment. -Salary no object, if man satisfactory. -I confess I ran away. Lady Condor, if you will -drink another cup of tea I should love to fetch -it for you, but it is plainly not my fault if you -will encourage my wife to entertain these -people.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You would never entertain anybody if you -had your own way,” said his wife.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I would always entertain Lady Condor. Or -rather, I am always sure Lady Condor will entertain -me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, I am delighted with Mr. Pithey,” announced -Lady Condor, reoccupying her chair, -and enjoying the sensation she created. “Yes. -In Mr. Pithey I see our—now what is the word -I want?—oh yes—our avenger! The people -have dethroned Us. They are taxing Us out of -existence. Condor told me this morning he must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>put the Cleve estate into the market. I shall -be lucky if I keep my diamonds, and poor Hawkhurst -will be lucky if he and his wife don’t end -in the workhouse. But where was I? I had -got it all in my head just now. If only I could -write it all down directly I think of it, I could -make my fortune as a writer of leaders in a -daily paper. Yes. They have dethroned Us, -and they will get Pitheys, dozens of Pitheys, -instead. We shall be ruined, obsolete, extinct, -but we shall be revenged. They will get Pitheys -in our place. Heaven be praised! The old -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">nouveaux riches</span></i> were bearable. They had reverence, -they recognized their limitations, they -were prepared to be taught. Look at you dear -people, of course we have all known about the -margarine. And you, dear Nita, yours was wine—or -was it mineral water?—something to drink, -wasn’t it? We needn’t hide anything now, -because the Pitheys will strip everything bare. -If you dear things had come here with 2½d. a -year, and lived in a villa, we should never have -known you. And yet—yes, now I have it—yet -really and truly, Roger was the real aristocracy. -The aristocracy of brains. The margarine and -wine didn’t matter, nor did the money—at least, -I mean it ought not to have. I’m getting -terribly muddled! And where is my scarf? -Did I drop it when I got up? Oh, here it is. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>You see, We made the aristocracy of wealth. -We couldn’t resist the shoots in Scotland for -the boys, and the balls for the girls, and the -snug directorships on big companies. Yes—we -smirched our position—our grandfathers -and grandmothers would never have done -it. And now here we are positively being -patronized—yes, dear Arthur—patronized by -Pitheys. I think I have gone off on to another -tack. It was losing my scarf! But I am delighted -with Pithey. He will avenge Us on -the masses—Pithey the Avenger—yes. But I -should have put it much better if I could have -said it while he was here. Arthur, do look -more cheerful! Think of Pithey as the avenger. -It makes him so bearable. And I will have -that cup of tea, Roger!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I cannot laugh,” said Mr. Fothersley. His -voice, even though addressing Lady Condor, -held a word of rebuke. “We should never -have called! It enrages me to think that we -should have submitted to such—such——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Words failed him. “However,” he added, -“we have reason to be thankful we did not call -on the St. Ubes. I gathered to-day that the -name, which might easily have misled us, was -originally <em>Stubbs</em>. I shall <em>not</em> call. These -Pithey people——”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>Again words failed him, and Lady Condor -chuckled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mrs. Pithey disapproves of me,” she announced. -“She is probably telling Mr. Pithey -that I paint. I must own it is very badly done -to-day; Mullins was in a temper. She always -makes me up badly when she is in a temper. -Now do let us enjoy ourselves! Let us forget -the Pithian invasion. Thank you—and some -cake—yes. And some one else must have some -tea to keep me company. Dear Nita—yes. -The poor hostess never gets enough tea. Now -this is cosy. And where are my glasses? I -have not <em>looked</em> at the tennis yet. And I know -it is very good. And I have not spoken to -dear Violet, or to Fred. And there, why surely -they are playing together. Did they draw -together? How strange! The child is lovelier -than ever. And now they have finished. -Bring them to have tea with me. What -is Fred now? A major! Isn’t it too ridiculous? -And I suppose those little boys you -have brought with you in R.A.F. uniforms are -Brigadier-Generals. And have you won the -tournament, my dears?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” said Fred Riversley. He and Violet -had shaken hands and had waited till -Lady Condor stopped for breath. “No. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>played very badly. Even Vi couldn’t pull me -through.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was a fair heavily-built young man, and -while the ladies talked, all three seemingly -at once, for Lady Condor rarely ceased, he sat -down on the grass and was at once the centre -of attraction for the five dogs. When a momentary -pause occurred, he asked, “How’s Dudley?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dudley,” said Lady Condor, “has got his -aluminium leg. It is really too wonderful. -You’d never guess it wasn’t a real live leg—unless -he tries to run, which of course he mustn’t -do. But everything else. And John, we had -letters from only yesterday. Russia—yes—and -Heaven knows when we’ll get him back. -And where is your Harry? Why, it seems -only yesterday he was retrieving tennis balls -in a sailor suit!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Harry is stuck at Marseilles,” said Riversley, -“on his way to Egypt. Doesn’t know -what’s going to happen to him till Peace is -signed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The little group fell on a sudden silence, a -silence that the steady thud of the tennis balls, -the call of the scores, the applause, did not -touch. A shadow seemed to cross the sunbathed -lawns and brilliant flower-beds. There -were others whom they all remembered, of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>whom no one would ever ask for news again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Riversley got up and carried the empty cups -back to the tea-table. Then he stood and -watched the tennis for a little space.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His mind moved heavily, but he was conscious -that, in spite of all the momentum given -by a great reaction, it would not be so easy -as of old to make a business of pleasure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently he slipped away to the peace and -seclusion of his father-in-law’s study. It was -a long low room, lined from floor to ceiling with -books. North’s writing-table stood in one window, -the other opened on to the lawn, while a -further means of escape was afforded by a -second door at the end of the room opening -into his laboratory. In the great armchair -guarding the hearth slept respectively Larry -and Victoria, the little lady fox-terrier who -owned Roger North. Between Vic and Larry -there existed a curious compact, immovable apparently -as the laws of the Medes and Persians. -Each had a share of the room on which the -other never encroached, and Larry possessed -certain privileges, plainly conceded by Victoria, -with regard to North, beyond which he -never went. In all other matters the two were -fast friends, and had been so long before Larry -came to live at Westwood. Lady Condor’s -West Highlanders they tolerated in the garden, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>but never in the house. Both dogs greeted -Riversley with effusion, and the heavy, silent -young man sat with Victoria on his knee and -Larry at his feet, surrounding himself with -clouds of smoke and stroking the little sleek -head against his arm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently North joined him. “You are -staying the night?” he asked, accepting a proffered -cigar.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No.” Riversley emptied his pipe of ashes -and began to refill it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve made the excuse of business in London,” -he went on after that little pause. “I -think Vi wants a change from—everything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was another pause, but still North did -not speak. He understood this stolid and -apparently rather ordinary young man better -than most people did. He knew the difficulty -with which he spoke of things that touched -him deeply, things that really mattered. So he -lit his cigar and passed the light in silence, -and presently Riversley went on again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see, I still think Vi did the best thing -she could, under the circumstances, when she -married me,” he said, “but even so it has not -been the success I hoped it would have been. -There’s something wrong. Something more -than having to put up with me instead of a -chap like old Dick. It was a knock-down blow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>losing him, but Vi was damned plucky over that, -and it doesn’t account for——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What?” asked North, sharply this time, -when the usual pause came.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know,” answered Riversley, stolid -as ever. “That’s what worries me. I can’t -put a name to it. But there’s something wrong. -Vi’s altered, and it isn’t for the better.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Altered?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, she looks at things differently—she’s -lost—oh, I don’t know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear fellow, can’t you be a little more -explicit?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No. I’m a stupid sort of a fellow, or perhaps -I’d understand better what’s wrong. The -only thing definite that I can lay hold of is, -that she gets sudden spasms of hatred, and it’s—well, -it’s like looking into a red-hot hell. I -don’t know how else to describe it. She always -had a bit of a temper, you know, but this is -different. And”—his voice dropped a little -and lost its steadiness for a moment—“the -animals won’t go near her sometimes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a queer strange silence for a -minute across which the laughter outside broke -like a jangling wire.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I expect she’s treated them unjustly,” said -North, conscious even as he spoke of the futility -of his reason.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>“Dogs never resent where they care,” said -Riversley briefly. “It’s not that. They—they -are afraid of her for some reason, and it’s -horribly uncanny sometimes. I thought perhaps -if she came down here without me, had a -rest from me you know, it would help her a -bit.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North nodded. “I think you are wise. I -hope it’s only a passing phase. She’s been -through a stiff time, and we are none of us yet -quite normal, I fancy.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It isn’t as if she’d care for me,” Riversley -went on steadily. “I took my risk, and I’d -take it again, and I’m not blaming her, mind -you. And I’m only telling you about it because -she seems to hang on to you, and you’ll be able -to help her better if you know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I understand that,” returned North. -He felt, as a matter of fact, particularly helpless. -What Riversley had just told him, coupled -with Violet’s outburst to himself that afternoon, -worried and disturbed him not a little. -He remembered those words of hers: “Sometimes -I am frightened.” The words overwrought, -hysterical, long-strained, jumbled in -his mind and brought no comfort. Then suddenly, -like a hand stretched out to a stumbling -man, came the thought of Thorpe, its radiant -peace, the steady eyes of Ruth Seer. And with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>that came the thought of Dick Carey. He -looked across at Riversley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s one thing I’d like to tell you,” he -said, “and that is, Dick wished Violet had -chosen you instead of himself. He felt somehow -that you were really better suited to her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Riversley’s eyes met his in blank amazement. -“Dick thought that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He always felt he was too old for Vi. But -she was desperately in love with him, and he -knew it, and you know old Dick. Besides, Vi -could twist almost any man round her little -finger. But that he would have been glad if her -choice had fallen on you instead of himself, I -have no doubt whatever.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Riversley stood up, filling his chest with a -long breath. “Thank you for telling me,” he -said. “It’s a help.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s one other thing I’d like to say,” -North went on, speaking rather hurriedly, “and -that is, see that you and Vi don’t get like myself -and her mother. Vi is like her in some ways, -and though no doubt I’ve been in fault too, and -we were always wholly unsuited, yet we began -under better conditions than you have. And -now we’ve got on each other’s nerves so much -that everything she says or does irritates me, -and vice versa. We <em>can’t</em> get right now if we -would. She thinks she’s fond of me still, because -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>it’s the correct thing to be fond of your -husband, but it’s far nearer hatred than love. -And I—have no delusions. And for God’s -sake, my boy, keep clear of following in our -footsteps.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We come of a different generation, sir,” -said Riversley simply. “If we can’t hit it off, -we shall part. Only if there is trouble ahead -for her, and I am afraid there is, I’m right -there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North looked at him with kindly eyes, but he -sighed. He knew only too well how the long -years of misunderstanding, and irritability, and -want of give and take, can wear out what at -first seemed such a wonderful and indestructible -thing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Roger! Roger!” shrilled his wife’s voice -from the lawn. “Everyone is going. Aren’t -you coming to say good-bye?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She flashed on their vision as she called, her -face flushed with indignation under her beflowered -hat, her hands full of small boxes, -tissue paper and cotton wool.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I really do think you might help a little! -It looks so odd, and all my friends think you -peculiar enough already.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Brought back with a shock to the deadly -importance of the ordinary routine, North became -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>flippant. “You don’t mean to say they -tell you so?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s easy enough to guess what they must -think, without any telling,” retorted his wife. -“At any rate, if you can’t behave with common -civility yourself, you might let Fred come and -help me. Fred, I have arranged for cold supper -at 8.30. Will you come at once and look after -the friends you brought down, while Violet and -I change. And don’t, I beg you, for Violet’s -sake, get into the same ways as her father.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Riversley followed her meekly across the -lawn. “I’m really awfully sorry,” he apologized. -“Is there anything else I can do?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he stopped. His mother-in-law was -immersed in a group of her guests saying good-bye, -and his eyes had found the figure they -always sought. Outside the front door, Lady -Condor, her scarves, gloves, and glasses, were -all being packed carefully into her bath-chair, -and a little way down the drive was his wife. -In front of her, just out of arm’s length, were -the little pack of West Highlanders, barking -furiously. She stooped down, coaxing them to -come and be petted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He progressed across the lawn towards her -in his usual rather ponderous fashion, and -stood watching. All the light of the sun seemed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>for him to centre round that slim white figure. -It touched the smooth dark silk of her hair -with a crown of glory, and found no flaw in the -clear pale skin, the rose-red mouth. Those -slender hands held out to the dogs, he would -have followed them to the end of the earth. -He loved all of her, with every thing he had or -was.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently she gave up her hopeless efforts, -and, standing to her full height, looked at him -across the still barking dogs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They have forgotten me, the little pigs!” -she said. “They won’t even let me pat them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Riversley knew, even as dogs do not -resent where they love, neither do they forget.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span> - <h2 id='V' class='c005'>CHAPTER V</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>“If I were not a farmer, I would like to be -a master mason,” said Ruth Seer very -firmly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was sitting by the roadside, watching -the workmen lay the foundation for her first -cottage. The process interested her enormously. -The master mason at intervals paused -in his work and instructed her as to its purport. -She was learning the use and meaning -of the square, the level, and the plumb-rule. -She was also enjoying herself quite a lot.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Across her knees lay Bertram Aurelius. He -guggled cheerfully in answer, and bit her forefinger -vigorously with such teeth as he possessed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Bertram Aurelius had come into the world -without benefit of clergy. His father belonged -to the B.E.F., his mother was a between-maid, -and in the ordinary course of events he should -have gone to his own place. But values had -shifted considerably during the years of the -Great War, and in the year of Peace both male -babies, even though unauthorized, and between-maids, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>had come to be recognized as very distinctly -valuable assets.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Gladys Bone, Bertram Aurelius’s mother, -aged eighteen, was pathetically anxious to -please, a trait which had probably assisted in -her undoing, and took the good advice meekly, -except where Bertram Aurelius was concerned. -Here the good ladies, who had with great difficulty -scraped together the money to start a -rescue home for unmarried mothers in Fairbridge, -reasoned with her in vain. She insisted -on his certainly somewhat startling -combination of names and persisted in calling -him by both. She was perfectly unashamed of -the fact that he had no authentic father.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ain’t he beautiful?” seemed to appear to -her quite a sufficient answer to those who endeavoured -to present the subject in its proper -light. And, worst of all, she absolutely refused -to be separated from him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The little grey-haired, pink-cheeked spinster, -who practically settled such matters, was in -despair. In her inmost heart she sympathized -with Gladys, Bertram Aurelius being an infant -of considerable charm. At the same time she -realized that it was almost impossible to find -anyone mad enough to engage a housemaid, or -even a between-maid, with a baby thrown in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>One day, however, when Bertram Aurelius -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>had reached the adorable age of ten months, -the unexpected happened. Little Miss Luce -travelled from London in the same carriage -with Ruth Seer, and getting into conversation, -told her the story of Gladys and Bertram -Aurelius Bone. At the moment Ruth was -meditating the possibility of getting a girl to -help Miss McCox without permanently destroying -the peace of Thorpe Farm. Gladys Bone -seemed the possibility. Never having lived, -save for her brief three months’ companionship, -in a well-regulated family, the accompanying -baby did not strike her as an impossibility, -but rather as a solution.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then and there on arriving at Fairbridge did -Miss Luce carry her off to see them both.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Bertram Aurelius had eyes the colour of a -delphinium, a head of red down, and a skin like -strawberries and cream. He had little hands -that held you tight and pink toes which he curled -and uncurled. He crowed at Ruth and promptly -put her finger in his mouth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ain’t he beautiful?” said his small mother.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She is really an excellent worker,” said<a id='t87'></a> little -Miss Luce, when Gladys and Bertram Aurelius -had been dismissed. “And she will do anything -for anyone who is good to the baby. If -you think you <em>could</em> manage with him, possibly——?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>She looked at Ruth anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth laughed. “My dear lady,” she said, -“I have just discovered that the one thing -wanted to make Thorpe perfect is a baby.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you have other servants,” suggested -Miss Luce. “I fear you may find them a difficulty.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Certainly Miss McCox’s attitude towards the -situation was more than doubtful, but Ruth had -learnt that a distinctly soft kernel existed somewhere -under the hard shell of an unattractive -personality. She thought of Bertram Aurelius’s -blue eyes and soft red head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think you must send Gladys out to Thorpe -to apply for the situation <em>with</em> Bertram Aurelius,” -she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They looked at each other, and Miss Luce -nodded comprehensively. “He is a very attractive -baby,” she murmured.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was the next morning, while Ruth was revelling -in the arrival of delicious fluffy yellow -things in her fifty-egg incubator, that Miss -McCox emerged from the house, evidently -the bearer of news of importance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>As always, she was spotlessly clean and almost -unbearably neat, and her clothes appeared -to be uncomfortably tight. Her collar was -fastened by a huge amber brooch, her waist-belt -by a still larger glittering metal buckle, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>both presents from the young man to whom -she had been engaged in her distant youth, and -who had died of what Miss McCox described -as a declining consumption. Out of the corner -of Ruth’s eye she looked distinctly uncompromising.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There’s a young woman come to apply for -the situation,” she announced.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Does she seem likely to be any good?” -asked Ruth, still busy with the incubator.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She’s got a baby,” said Miss McCox, who -always came to the point. “And she wants to -keep it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A baby?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A baby,” repeated Miss McCox firmly. “A -baby as didn’t ought to have come, but it’s -there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!” said Ruth weakly. “Well, what do -you think about it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Miss McCox fingered the amber brooch. This -Ruth knew to be a distinct sign of weakness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The young woman’s civil spoken, and I -reckon there’s worse about <em>with</em> their ring on,” -she said darkly. “I’m willin’ to try her, if -you are.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth hid a smile among the yellow chicks. -The charm of Bertram Aurelius had worked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But the baby?” she asked. “Can we possibly -manage with the baby?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>“Why not?” returned Miss McCox sharply. -“Babies aren’t much trouble, God knows! It’s -the grown-ups make <em>me</em> sick!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So Bertram Aurelius came to live at Thorpe, -and was rapidly absorbed into the life on the -farm. He was a good and cheerful infant, and -anyone could take charge of him. He was -equally contented, whether viewing the world -over Ruth’s shoulder while she inspected the -farm, or in his cradle in the corner of the kitchen -listening to curious noises called singing, -which Miss McCox, to the amazement of the -whole establishment, produced for his benefit. -He would lie among the hay in a manger, even -as the Babe of all time, while Ruth and the -cowman milked, or on his crawler on the terrace, -guarded by Sarah and Selina, who took to him -much as if he had been one of those weird -black and white puppies of Sarah’s youthful -indiscretion. And Gladys, his mother, worked -cheerfully and indefatigably to please, sitting -at Miss McCox’s feet for instructions, and the -peace and comfort of Thorpe deepened and -broadened day by day.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was now near mid-June, and the fine -weather still held. Day after day broke to -unclouded sunshine, a world full of flowers and -the rhythmic life of growing things. The seeds -and baby plants cried for rain, the hay and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>fruit crops would suffer, but Ruth, her heart -torn both ways, could not regret. It was all -so beautiful, and when the rain came, who could -tell? It might be all the real summer weather -of the year, this wonderful May and June.</p> - -<p class='c007'>To-day, little ever-so-soft white clouds broke -the clear blue of the sky, but there was still no -sign of change. The wild roses and the broom -were in perfection, and everywhere was the -honey and almond scent of gorse; the buttercup -glory was over but the ox-eyed daisies were -all out, turning their sweet moon faces to the -sun.</p> - -<p class='c007'>From where she sat Ruth could see the rose-red -roofs of Thorpe with the white pigeons -drowsing in the heat. Her cottages were to be -equally beautiful on a smaller scale. She -dreamt, as she sat in the warmth and the sweetness, -with Bertram Aurelius cooing softly in her -lap, visualizing pictures such as were growing in -the minds of many in the great year of Peace, -seeing beautiful homes where the strong man -and the mother, with sturdy round-limbed -children, should live, where the big sons and -comely daughters should come in and out, in -the peace of plenty and to the sound of laughter. -It might all be so wonderful, for the wherewithal -is ours, is here with us. The good brown -earth, the sun and the rain, fire and water, all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>the teeming life of nature, all ours to mould -into a life of beauty for ourselves and our -children.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dreams? Yes. But such dreams are the -seeds of the beautiful, which shall, if they find -soil, blossom into beauty in the time to come, -for the little children lying on our knees, clutching -at our hearts.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently there intruded into Ruth’s dreams -the large presence of Mr. Pithey, and she discovered -him standing in the white dust of the -road in front of her. Disapproval and curiosity -both appeared together in his little sharp -eyes. According to Mr. Pithey’s ideas it was -distinctly unseemly for a person in Ruth’s position -to sit by the roadside “like a common -tramp,” as he expressed it to Mrs. Pithey later -on. To his mind, somehow, the baby in her lap -accentuated the unseemliness, and it made the -thing worse that she was both hatless and gloveless. -Had she been properly dressed for the -roads, the rest might have been an accident.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should think you’d get a sunstroke, sitting -by the road like that without your hat,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey himself was expensively dressed -in pale grey with a white waistcoat and spats. -On his head he wore a five-guinea panama, and -his general appearance forcibly reminded Ruth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>of an immaculately groomed large, pale yellow -pig. Her grey eyes smiled at him out of her -sun-browned face. She had a disarming smile.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe I was nearly asleep,” she said, and -dug her knuckles into her eyes much as a child -does.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey softened. “What on earth are -you sitting there for?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just dreaming. But you mustn’t think I’m -an idler, Mr. Pithey. Even Pan sleeps at this -hour.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her smile deepened, and Mr. Pithey softened -still more. He stepped out of the dust into -the grass, passing as he did so into a more -friendly attitude.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pan?—that’s a queer name for a baby!” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The smile became just the softest thing in -laughs. “Well, his proper name is Bertram -Aurelius. But Pan——” She held Bertram -Aurelius up the while he chuckled at her, striving -to fit his hand into his mouth. “Look at -his blue eyes, and his little pointed ears, and his -head of red down. Really Pan suits him much -better.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Um,” said Mr. Pithey. “Bertram is a good -sensible name for a boy, like my own, and not -too common. Better stick to that. So you’ve -<span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span>started your cottages. Well, you remember -what I told you. Don’t you think they’re going -to pay, because they won’t.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh yes, they’ll pay,” said Ruth. “Why, -of course they’ll pay!” There was mischief -in her eye.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now look here,” said Mr. Pithey heavily. -“It’s no good talking to a woman; it’s in at -one ear and out of the other. But if you’ll walk -up to the house with me, I’ll put it down in -black and white. The return you’ll get for -your money——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, money!” interrupted Ruth. “I wasn’t -thinking of money.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey heeled over, as it were, like a ship -brought up when sailing full before the wind.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If it’s damned rotten sentiment you’re -after,” he exclaimed, “well you can take my -word for it <em>that</em> doesn’t pay either!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked up at him as he stood over her, -a very wrathfully indignant immaculate, pale -yellow pig indeed. She thought of his millions, -and the power they wielded and then of the -power they might wield if backed by any imagination.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mr. Pithey,” she said, and her voice was -very low, and it had in it the sound of many -waters which had gone over her soul, “I have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>seen our dead men lie in rows, many hundreds, -through the dark night, waiting till the -dawn for burial; they did not ask if it paid.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey shuffled with his big feet in the -grass. “That’s different,” he said, but his -little sharp eyes fell. “I should have gone -myself, but my business was of national importance, -as of course you know. Yes, that’s -different. That’s different.” He seemed to -find satisfaction in the words. He eyed Ruth -again with equanimity. “Of course you ladies -don’t understand, but you can’t bring sentiment -into business.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He puffed himself out. Again the phrase -pleased.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth rose to her feet. Even to her broad -charity he had become oppressively obnoxious.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How much did you offer me for Thorpe?” -she asked suddenly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey’s eyes snapped. “Twenty-five -per cent. on your money,” he said, “or I might -even go a bit higher as you’re a lady.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth tossed Bertram Aurelius over her -shoulder, laughing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you know what has made Thorpe the -gem it is?” she asked. “Why, sentiment! -Unless you have some to spend on it, it wouldn’t -pay you to buy.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>She nodded a farewell and left him with a -strangled “damn” on his lips. He yearned -after Thorpe. As a pleasure farm for himself -it left little to be desired.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He expressed his feelings to Mrs. Pithey, -who, coming along presently in her Rolls-Royce, -with the two elder children in their best clothes, -picked him out of the dust and took him home -to tea.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, it must have been her I passed just -now!” she exclaimed. “There now, if I didn’t -think it was just a common woman, and never -bowed!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A good thing too!” said Mr. Pithey majestically. -And he said to Mrs. Pithey all the -things he would have said to Miss Seer if she -had given him a chance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Undisturbed by the omission, Ruth went -home across the flowered fields, but Mr. Pithey -himself oppressed her. It seemed grossly unfit, -somehow, that the life sacrifice of those dead -boys should result in benefit, material benefit at -any rate, to the Pitheys of the world; it shocked -even one’s sense of decency.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Bertram Aurelius’s head was very soft -against her throat as he dropped into sleep. -The sun was very warm, the almond and honey -scent of gorse was very sweet. Presently -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>she unruffled, and began to sing the song -which seemed to her to belong especially to -Thorpe:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“When I have reached my journey’s end</div> - <div class='line in4'>And I am dead and free,</div> - <div class='line in2'>I pray that God will let me go</div> - <div class='line in2'>Along the flowered fields I know</div> - <div class='line in4'>That look towards the sea.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>So she came to the stile which led to the buttercup -field, crimson and white now with sorrel -and ox-eyed daisies. And standing among the -flowers was a slim figure, the figure of a woman -dressed all in white. Ruth stopped on the stile -to look. It was so beautiful in poise and outline, -it gave her that little delightful shock of -joy which only beauty gives. Backed by the -blue sky, bathed in the broad afternoon sunlight, -it was worthy even of her flower fields. Very -still the figure stood, gazing across those fields -that “looked towards the sea,” and just as still, -in a breathless pause, Ruth stood and watched -and wondered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>For gradually she became aware of a strange -appearance as of fire surrounding the slim -figure. It was of oval shape, vivid scarlet in -colour, deepening at the base. Other colours -there were in the oval, but the fiery glow of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>red drowned them into insignificance. Ruth -shaded her eyes with her disengaged hand, -suspecting some illusion of light, but the oval -held its shape under the steady scrutiny, and -with a little gasp she realized that she was -looking at that which the ordinary physical -sight does not reveal. Vague memories of -things read in old books out of Raphael Goltz’s -library, descriptions of the coloured auric egg -which, invisible to the human eye, surrounds all -living forms, raced hurriedly through her mind, -but she had read of them more with curiosity -than with any thought that they would ever -come within the boundary of her own consciousness. -As she realized what the phenomenon -was, a growing shrinking from it, a sense of -horror, a feeling that there was something sinister, -threatening, in the fiery implacable red -of the appearance, came over her like a wave. -She was glad of Bertram Aurelius’s warm little -body against her own, and found she was fighting -a desire to turn back and retrace her steps. -A desire so wholly absurd on the face of it, -that she shook herself together and resolutely -moved forward. As she did so, the white figure -moved too, coming down the slope of the field -to meet her, and as it came the scarlet oval -faded, flickered, and, so far as Ruth was concerned, -seemed to go out. The ordinary everyday -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>things of life came back with a curious -dislocating jerk, and she found herself looking -into a very wonderful pair of golden-brown eyes -set in short, but oddly thick, black lashes, and -a light high voice spoke, a voice with sudden -bell-like cadences in it, so often heard in the -voice of French women. It was as attractive -as all the rest of Violet Riversley’s physical -equipment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Is it Miss Seer? May I introduce myself? -I expect as Roger North’s daughter will be -simplest,” she said, holding out her hand -“Father dropped me here on his way to Fairbridge -with Lady Condor. They are both calling -here later to see you and pick me up, also -hoping for tea, father told me to say. Your -maid told me I should find you if I came down -this way. Do you mind that I have picked -some of your moon daisies? There are none -fine as grow in this field.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no, of course not,” Ruth half stammered, -realizing for the first time that she carried -a sheaf of daisies in the bend of her arm. -Why, everything would have been hers but for -the chance of war. This was the woman who -was to have married Dick Carey. And somehow, -all at once, Ruth knew that this meeting -was not the ordinary everyday occurrence such -meetings mostly are. It had a meaning, a purpose -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>of its own. She felt a sudden shrinking -of some inner sense, even as she had just now -felt a physical shrinking. She wanted to back -out of something, she knew not what, just as -she had had that ridiculous desire just now to -turn round and go the other way. And yet, -standing staring at her in this stupid dumb -way, she did not dislike Violet Riversley; far -from it. She was distinctly attracted by her, -and her beauty drew Ruth like a charm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It seemed quite a long time before she heard -her own voice saying, “Please pick—take—anything -you like.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thanks ever so much,” said Mrs. Riversley. -She had turned to walk up the path. “I’m -just like a child. I always want to pick flowers -when I see them, and they seem to grow here -better than anywhere else I know. Mr. Carey -used to say he had squared the Flower Elementals.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She spoke the name quite simply and casually, -while Ruth was conscious of a ridiculous feeling -of shyness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think it quite likely,” she answered. -“Look at the wisteria.” They had reached -the ridge of the slope and could see where the -flowered fields merged into the garden proper. -“All along the top of the wall, against the blue. -I have never seen any so wonderful.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>It was amazingly wonderful, but Mrs. Riversley -looked at it without any apparent pleasure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is ever so good of you to let me come and -invade you in this informal way,” she said, -with her little gracious social manner. “Father -said he was sure you would not mind. And -you won’t let me interrupt you, will you? You -work on the farm yourself, don’t you? It is -not just a pretence of farming with you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was just going to milk,” said Ruth, smiling. -“We are one hand short to-day, so if you -won’t mind my leaving you till teatime, and you -will just do exactly what you like, and pick -anything you like——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Violet Riversley did, for her, an unusual -thing. She slipped her hand into Ruth’s, -as a shy, rather lonely child might have done. -It was one of the moments when she was irresistible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let me come with you and watch,” she said. -“And why do you carry that big baby about? -Is it a good work?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He’s the farm baby,” said Ruth, her eyes -twinkling. “And we found him under a gooseberry-bush.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had reached the terrace, and the pigeons, -just awake from their midday slumber on -the sun-baked roof, came tumbling down, fluttering -round Ruth, searching the big pockets of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>her overall for corn, while Bertram Aurelius -vainly strove to catch a wing or tail.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. Riversley stood at a little distance. -“My goodness, they are tame,” she exclaimed, -as the pretty chase for the hidden food went on. -“Just as tame as they were with——” She -stopped and looked round her. “It is extraordinary -how little the place has changed—and -it’s not pretending either—it really is just the -same here. The same old comfortable at-home -feeling. Did you know Mr. Carey by any -chance? No, I suppose not. But it’s funny—I -have something the same feeling with you -I always had with him, and with no one else -ever in the world. You rest me—you do me -good—you are something cool on a hot day. You -know, father felt it too, and he is not given to -feelings. Do get rid of that great fat lump. -Put him back under his gooseberry-tree. Then -we will go milking.” She advanced on Bertram -Aurelius threateningly. “Where <em>does</em> he go?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth broke into laughter. “He will go in -the manger on the hay, or anywhere else that -comes handy. Or—but wait a minute—here -come the dogs.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Sarah and Selina were proceeding decorously -up the path from the front gate. To all appearances -they had been taking a little gentle exercise. -There was an air of meekness, an engaging -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>innocence, about them which, to those who -knew them, told its own tale. They had undoubtedly -been up to mischief.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The dogs?” queried Mrs. Riversley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They will look after him,” explained Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She went into the house and brought out a -small wooden cradle on rockers. In this she -arranged Bertram Aurelius, who took the -change with his usual philosophy, waved his -bare pink legs with vigour, and strove to catch -the sunbeams flickering through the jasmine -leaves. The little dogs sat side by side, very -alert and full of responsibility.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was a picture full of charm, but Mrs. Riversley -held herself aloof, though she watched -the swift neat movement of Ruth’s work-worn -hands with interest until she joined her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she became for the next half-hour an -entirely delightful companion, talking gaily in -her pretty cadenced voice, flitting here and -there like some white bird about the big fragrant -cowshed, eager with the impulsive eagerness -of a child to show that she too knew how to -milk. Dick had taught her. She spoke of him -frequently and without self-consciousness. She -told Ruth many things that interested her to -know. And gradually the curious shell of hardness, -that apparent want of sympathy with all -the beautiful teeming life of the farm disappeared. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>She milked, to Ruth’s astonishment, -well and deftly. She understood much about -chicken and pigs. She held the down-soft -yellow ducklings in her shapely hands, and -broke into open enthusiasm over the little white -kid who ran with the herd.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wonder,” she said, when the milking was -over and Ruth suggested tea, “I wonder if by -any chance our ‘house on the wall’ is still -there?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You mean where the kitchen garden wall is -built out to meet the beech-tree, and the -branches are like three seats, the highest one -in the middle, and there are some shelves?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes—yes! and you can see all round and no -one can see you. Dick built it for us when we -were children—Fred, and I, and the Condor -boys. We were always here. We played at -keeping house up there, and Dick used to tell -us stories about all the animals—there was one -about a mouse family too—and about the Elementals. -The Water Elementals, who took -care of the river, and who brought the rain, and -the dew in the early summer mornings; they -were all like silver gossamer and white foam. -And the Earth Elementals, who looked after the -flowers’ food; and the Elementals of Fire.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped suddenly and shivered. They -were crossing a corner of the orchard on their -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>way to the kitchen garden, and, to Ruth’s astonishment, -she looked round her with something -like fear in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Did you feel it get colder, quite cold,” she -said, “as we crossed the footpath just there?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe it did, now you say so,” said Ruth. -“You get those funny bands of colder air sometimes. -The ground dips too, under those apple-trees.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet shivered again. She looked at the -apple trees and the odd look of fear in her -eyes deepened. “Has anyone ever spoken to -you of a man called von Schäde, a German, who -used to stay here?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” said Ruth, and wondered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He asked me to marry him, just over there, -under that biggest tree. It was covered with -blossom then, and there were white butterflies -about. Oh, he frightened me!” Her voice rose -in a little cry. “He frightened me. I hate to -think of it even now. I felt as if he could make -me do it, whether I wanted to or no. He kissed -me—like no one had ever kissed me before—I -could have killed him, I hated him so. But -even then I was afraid he might make me do it. -I was afraid. I would not see him again alone, -and I never felt really safe till I was engaged -to Dick, and even then”—her voice dropped -very low—“I was glad when Karl was killed. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>Do you think it was very horrid of me? I -couldn’t help it. Sometimes, even now, I -dream in the night that he has never died, that -he has come back and can make me do what -he likes.” She shuddered. “I have to shake -myself quite wide awake before I know it is -only a beastly dream. And I haven’t Dick now -any more.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked back over her shoulder and -shivered again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are sure that cold feeling was just quite -ordinary?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why, yes,” said Ruth. “What should it -be?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know. Let us get to the house on -the wall.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She hurried on, and her slender feet in white -went up the rough steps as one at home. She -stood for a few moments and looked round, -while the old memories of what seemed like -another life came thronging back. Then she -climbed up into the middle seat, and sat there, -gathering herself together as a child does when -it is concentrating deeply. In the flickering -shadow of the leaves above and around, her face -looked wan, mysterious almost, her strange -golden eyes curiously alive, yet gazing, it -seemed, into another world.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her seat in the circle looked out across the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>great endless valley stretching away to the west. -Immediately below was the big hay field, ready -now for cutting. It fell in a gentle slope to -the river, which, diving under the roadway by -the front gate, curved round the garden, and -broke out into a miniature pond at the bottom of -the field, before it vanished among the bracken -where the territory of Thorpe ended and the -great beautiful forest of the Condor estate commenced. -In the pond were water-lilies, rose-coloured -and white, and tall brown bulrushes, -all in their season of perfection. Most noticeable -in the noble stretch of landscape beyond -was a clump of beech-trees on the ridge of the -near side of the valley, lifted up sheer against -the height of the sky. They had caught for -many years the full blast of the winds coming -up from the north-east, and only the topmost -branches survived, leaving their straight exquisite -trunks bare. To-day, standing high -above the blue distances, in the shimmering -light and heat, they had about them more than -usual of majesty and mystery.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet Riversley sat very still. The myriads -of summer leaves rustled softly; here and there -a bird sang. Presently she began to speak, -even as another bird might have begun to sing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And it takes a long time to get the water-lilies -to grow, because they won’t come anywhere -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>until they are sure you really love them, -not just want them for show. It’s the same -with the Madonna lilies. And they never make -mistakes. You’ve got really to love them. -And the water-lilies like bulrushes close at hand -for a bodyguard, because the water-lilies are of -royal birth. The Water Elementals told Dick -all this. And so the lilies grew, and I loved the -pink ones best, but he loved the white. And -the tops of the beech-trees with the long trunks -are where the Earth Elementals say their -prayers; they choose trees like that so that the -Earth children cannot climb up and disturb -them. If you disturb them when they are saying -their prayers they get cross, and then the -flowers come all wrong. Red roses with a green -spike in their hearts, and the lime flowers -covered with black. And all that shimmery heat -is like it is in the desert, all like that and no -green. Only here and there water in a grove -of palm-trees. And there is the wood where -the Winds live. They will all be at home to-day, -resting.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth held her breath while she listened, and -then the voice fell very softly into silence. And -quite suddenly there came a sudden shower of -big soft tears. They made blurred marks on -the lustrous white skin, and she looked at Ruth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>with dim wet eyes like a child who had been -naughty.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently she got up and came and sat down -on the top of the wall facing the garden.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come and sit here too,” she said, patting -the bricks beside her. “It’s quite comfy if you -put your heels back into the steps. There’s -just room for two. We used to watch for Dick -coming home from here—I and Fred and the -eldest Condor boy. He was killed at Messines—and -little Teddy Rawson, the Vicar’s son—he -was afraid of almost everything—mice and -ferrets—just like a girl—and he died a hero’s -death at Gallipoli. And Sybil Rawson—she -went as a nurse to Salonica, and was torpedoed -coming home, and drowned. Only Fred and I -left, and the two youngest Condors.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Again she fell on silence, and again Ruth held -her breath. She feared that any word of hers -might break the spell of this return to the past -days which were like another life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The flowers grow for you too. They are -just as wonderful as ever,” Mrs. Riversley -went on again, after a little while. “And you -have got a blue border. Delphinium, anchusa, -love-in-the-mist, and the nemophila—all -of them. I wonder how you came to think of -that?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>“There were some of the plants still left, -and I—somehow I think I guessed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And the birds? Are they still as tame?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They were shy at first, but they are beginning -to come back.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The robins used to fly in and out of the -house. And even the swallow and kingfishers -used to come quite close to Dick. If I was with -him I had to be quite still for a long time before -they would come.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth’s face lighted with a sudden thought. -“The kingfishers?” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They are the shyest of all birds. I suppose -we humans have always tried to catch -and kill them for their plumage. Dick hated -that sort of thing.” Her face grew hard and -the strange fire burnt up again in her eyes. -“And then he was shot down himself—shot -down as we shoot any bird or beast.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped suddenly, the words choked back -in her throat, as the Condor car came over the -bridge and pulled up at the gate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she slipped down from the wall and -stood looking up at Ruth. “Thank you for -letting me go round with you—and talk. It’s -been good.” She pushed up the heavy wave -of hair from her forehead under her wide-brimmed -hat. “It’s taken me back for a little, -to what life used to be, from what I am to what -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>I was. And now let us go and pick up all the -things Lady Condor will drop.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lady Condor’s cheerful chatter was already -with them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now have I got everything? Yes—no—where -is my handkerchief? Did I put it into -the pocket? The parcels can all stay. No one -will touch them. Oh, there it is! Thank you, -Roger.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She began to ascend the path, shedding a blue -chiffon scarf, which North retrieved as he followed -her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, there you are, Violet! And this is -Seer? An unpardonably late call, but I have -been taking the chair at a meeting to discuss -the Women’s Victory Memorial. We discussed -for hours—the weirdest ideas! And the heat! -At the Town Hall? Yes. Why are town halls -and hospitals always hideous? There can’t be -any necessity for it. Tea indoors, out of the -sun? How nice! I never do like tea out-of-doors -myself really, though sometimes I pretend -to. And the dear old room—almost just -like it used to be. I am glad, though it makes -me want to cry. Yes. But where was I? Oh -yes, the weirdest ideas. Even a crematorium -was suggested. No, I am not inventing, dear -Violet. The good lady had lost her husband -and was obliged to take him all the way to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>Woking. Most trying, of course! I was really -sorry for her. But seemed so odd for a -Victory Memorial. So we settled on a maternity -home, a quite excellent idea. Trenching -on the improper, of course. It brought the -fact of babies coming into the world into such -a very concrete form as it were. But so necessary -just now—and that they should have every -chance. So even the dear ladies who attend -St. Christopher’s Church agreed. We parted -in the utmost harmony. So pleasant—and so -unusual!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And have you settled on a War Memorial?” -asked North, rescuing her handkerchief from -Selina’s clutches.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not yet! And I see no prospect—we are -still talking. We <em>shall</em> until some adventurous -spirit among us says, ‘Well, something must be -<em>done</em>.’ Then we shall go the way of least resistance—always -so safe and so unoriginal. Another -of those delightful sandwiches, please. -Your own Devonshire cream, of course. Why -can’t my cook make Devonshire cream? But -where was I? Oh yes—the War Memorial. -Then we shall erect an artistically offensive -monument. Who invented that word, I wonder. -And did the word come from the monstrosity, -or after? But it is so descriptive of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>what it is. Yes. And what is your idea of -a good memorial, Miss Seer?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have only one idea at present,” said Ruth, -smiling. “And that is cottages.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Quite a good one too,” said North. “Why -hasn’t anyone thought of it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Much too obvious, my dear,” exclaimed -Lady Condor. “The people are shrieking to -be housed, so we shall build them a library—yes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And the Pithians will build themselves -winter gardens and billiard-rooms and marble -swimming-baths,” said Mrs. Riversley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Pithians!” exclaimed Lady Condor. “Who -was it thanked someone else for a word! -Thank you, dear Violet. Did I invent it myself -the other day? How clever of me! Pithians—yes. -Democracy will kill privilege as it -did in France, but the Pithians arise on our -ashes—or should it be Phœnix? I am getting -dreadfully muddled—it comes from talking too -much. Roger, why don’t you talk, instead of -letting me monopolize Miss Seer and all the -conversation?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear lady, the Pithian glory is but -for a moment. We are all converging to the -same heap of ashes with amazing velocity, and -what will arise from those ashes you must ask -a wiser man than I.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>“You think seriously of the outlook?” asked -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North helped himself to more bread-and-butter. -“I don’t think,” he said. “It won’t -bear thinking of—when you can do nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then Lady Condor, for once, put a straight -question without continuation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do you think of things?” she asked, -looking at Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The silence grew, in some odd way, tense, -while they all waited for the answer. It surprised -North to find that he was waiting for it -with something which distinctly approached -interest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth Seer’s face looked troubled for a moment, -and the colour came sweeping into it like -a flood, and left her very white. When she -spoke she felt as if the words came, dragged -with difficulty, from some unknown consciousness. -And though the words she spoke, undoubtedly -she felt to be true, were a testimony -of her own faith, yet she had only that moment -known the truth she was stating.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe,” she said slowly, haltingly, but -with a strange intensity of conviction, “I believe -we are not alone. Things are in the hands -of the men who have given their lives so that -things should be different—better. Their influence -is here—all about us. They, with added -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>knowledge—guide—through our darkness. It -is their great reward.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was another silence, and Ruth flushed -again painfully, under the scrutiny of three -pairs of eyes. “Where did you get that idea -from?” asked Lady Condor.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know,” she answered, then amended -her statement. “At least, I am not sure. But -I believe it is true.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I like it,” announced her Ladyship. “I -like it enormously—yes—quite enormously. -My poor dear Hartley! He was so keen on -everything, so interested in <em>this</em> old world. He -didn’t want rest in heaven—at twenty-four. -No—is it likely? And <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">les choses ne vont pas -si vite</span></i>. It isn’t in the nature of things they -should. Nature hasn’t great big gaps like that -with no sense in them. I don’t know, my dear, -if <em>I’m</em> talking sense, but I know what I mean, -and I’m sure it’s right. Yes—I like your idea.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But that does not make it true. Some -people can believe anything they want to. I -can’t.” Mrs. Riversley moved impatiently -from her seat. “All we know is, they are gone, -so far as we are concerned; we cannot see or -touch or hold them any more. Why do you -discuss and imagine? They are gone.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lady Condor shrank together at the words. -The wonderful vitality which enabled her to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>defy age and satiety failed for the moment. -She looked old and piteous.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” she said, “they are gone.” She -looked at North. “And you can tell us nothing—with -all your learning—with all your discoveries. -And the parsons talk of faith and hope. -Yes. But we have lost our first-borns.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North did not answer. He gathered her various -belongings and put them in her lap. -“There are one or two things I have to do to -the car,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The door opened on to a clamour of dogs. -Sarah and Selina, shrill with welcome, barked -in chorus around Larry, who appeared to have -just arrived. “Now what the devil——” muttered -North to himself, while Larry smote him -with a feathered paw, and begged with wistful -eyes for pardon.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth sat very late out on her terrace that -night. The heavens were dark, but full of -stars. Their radiance filled all space. Who -and what was it had spoken those words this -afternoon, for neither the thought nor the words -had been her own? She believed it was a true -thought; something deeper than brain or understanding -knew it was true. And Ruth Seer sat -and prayed. Was she on the threshold of that -Open Doorway, which in all ages men have -sought and sought in vain? Had she somehow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>stumbled on something vast and beyond all -measure valuable? She knew how valuable, -she had seen the dead men lie in thousands -waiting burial, and heard with her soul the -tears of their women. Gone, as Violet Riversley -said, out of sight, or touch, or sound. And -yet surely a communion deeper and fuller -than sight, or touch, or hold, had sprung -up, was growing, between herself and one -of those dead men. A man unknown to her -on this physical plane. That was the crowning -wonder of this wonderful thing which -was happening. How had it come about? -What did it mean? And it was no thing apart -from this earthly life, from the little daily -round. It was no other world.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The night deepened. A magic of starlight -lay on the farm, on the dull silver of the stream, -over the violet distances. The little farm she -loved, with all its sleeping creatures, belonged -to the wonderful whole, the great space, the -immensity of light, the glory and the mystery.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The beauty of it all was like a draught of -wine, was like a silver sword, was like a harp of -gold.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And suddenly a nightingale began to sing. -A small brown-feathered thing with that wonder -of sound in its tiny throat. And then it came. -Faith—Hope—they cannot pass the open door—only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>Love. And love not of one to another, -however deep, however true, but love of the -universal whole, that love which she and Dick -Carey had in common, focused as it were on -Thorpe. That was the password, that the key, -that the communion between the living and the -dead which she had found.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And Larry, lying at her feet, for North had -let him stay, waved a slow-moving tail, and -dreamed, content.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Up above, on the hill, the lights of the great -Pithian mansion, with all it symbolized, went -out one by one, and Ruth, who loved her England, -was not afraid.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A deep sense of great responsibility remained. -If that which she had sensed was -really so, and she had neither then nor at any -later time any doubt of it, what had They, with -their wider knowledge, the great advance in -evolution which they who had made the supreme -gift of all they had on this physical plane must -surely have attained, what had They to build -the new order with save those who were left? -Living stones for the Great New Temple never -made with hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The glory of it touched Ruth as with a sudden -blaze of light. The thought was like a bugle -call. To work with for them still. She had -only herself to offer. One small stone to shape -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>for use, to make as perfect as might be. She -offered it under the starlit heavens with all her -heart. Life took on a new and more beautiful -meaning, any work of service a deeper, fuller -joy. It was still for, and with, Them.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span> - <h2 id='VI' class='c005'>CHAPTER VI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>It was a few days later that Mr. Fothersley, -as was his frequent custom, emerged from -his front door at eleven o’clock, on his way to -the post. In his left hand he carried a sheaf -of letters for the twelve o’clock post out. As -he often said, it made “an object for his morning -stroll.” Not that Mr. Fothersley ever -really strolled. It would have been a physical -impossibility. His little plump legs always -trotted. They trotted now along the immaculate -gravel drive which curved between two -wide strips of smooth mown sward. On the -right hand the grass merged into a magnificent -grove of beech-trees, on the left it was fenced -by a neat iron railing, dividing it from what -the house agent describes as finely timbered -park-land. Behind him, with all its sun-blinds -down, the grey old house slept serenely in the -sunshine. The parterres were brilliant with -calceolaria, geranium, and heliotrope. Mr. -Fothersley rather prided himself on an early -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>Victorian taste in gardening, and his herbaceous -borders, very lovely though they were, -dwelt in the kitchen garden region.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Leigh Manor had belonged to Mr. Fothersley -from the day of his birth, which occurred -two months after the death of his father. That -gentleman had married late in life for the sole -and avowed purpose of providing his estate with -an heir, of which purpose his son most cordially -approved. At the same time he had never seen -his way to go so far himself. The Fothersleys -were not a marrying family. His mother, a -colourless person, of irreproachable lineage, and -a view of life which contemplated only two -aspects, the comfortable and the uncomfortable, -had lived long enough to see him well into the -forties, by which time he was as skillful as she -had been in the management of an establishment. -Everything continued to run in the same -perfect order, and Mr. Fothersley felt no more -inclined than during her lifetime to disturb the -smooth current of his pleasant life by embarking -on the very uncertain adventure of matrimony. -On this particular morning he paused -outside his own gate to look at the view—almost -the same view that was obtainable from the -“house on the wall” at Thorpe Farm. Ever -since he was a small child, Mr. Fothersley could -remember taking visitors to see “our view,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>and he had, at an early age, esteemed it unfortunate -that none so good was to be obtained -from the grounds of Leigh Manor. He looked -out over the quiet scene. The great beautiful -valley, with the suggestion only of the sea beyond, -the dotted farmsteads, with here and -there some noble old mansion like his own secluded -among its trees, and, at his feet, little -Mentmore village, with its grey church tower, -half hidden in the hollow. It was typical of all -he held most dearly. A symbol of the well-ordered -ease and superiority of his position, -of the things which were indeed, though unconsciously, -Mr. Fothersley’s religion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the grey church his forbears had, like himself, -sat with their peers, in the front pews, -while their dependents had herded discreetly -at the back behind the pillars. In these eminently -picturesque cottages, of two or three -rooms, dwelt families who, he had always taken -more or less for granted, regarded him and his -with a mixture of respect and reverence, just -touched—only touched—with awe. On the -whole most worthy and respectable people. Mr. -Fothersley was generous to them out of his -superabundance. He was indeed attached to -them; and although Mr. Fothersley prided himself -on moving with the times, it was plain that -any alteration in the admirable state of things -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>existing in Mentmore would not only be a mistake, -but absolutely wrong.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Therefore, on this fine June morning, Mr. -Fothersley was perturbed. The knowledge -that Mr. Pithey dwelt in the noble grey stone -house on the opposite hill, in the place of his -old friend, Helford Rose, spoilt “his view” for -him. And, for the first time, too, one of Ruth -Seer’s new cottages had become visible just -below his own pasture fields. The workmen -were putting on the roof. It was to Mr. Fothersley -an unseemly sight in Mentmore. Ruth had -done her best, she had spent both time and -money in securing material that would not spoil -the harmony or character of the little village, -but as Mr. Fothersley had said, it was the thin -end of the wedge.</p> - -<p class='c007'>What was to prevent Mr. Pithey from scattering -some horrible epidemic of hideous utilitarian -domiciles broadcast over his wide estate? -Mr. Fothersley shuddered, and remembered -with thankfulness that they were not at present -a paying proposition.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Still, he wished Miss Seer had not these queer -manias. Not that he disliked her—far from it. -Indeed, the little basket of his special early -strawberries, poised in his right hand, was on -its way to her. And he had even traced a distant -cousinship with her on the Courthope side. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>Since what was now familiarly known in his -set as the Pithian Invasion he considered her -a distinct asset at Thorpe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I would not have had old Dick’s place vulgarized -for a good deal,” he said to himself as -he descended the hill. “And I know even he -did talk of building some cottages before the -war, poor dear fellow.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>All the same, he did not feel in his usual -spirits, and presently, to add to his discomfort, -he passed the local sweep, window cleaner, and -generally handy man, who, instead of touching -his hat as of old, nodded a cheery, “Good-morning, -Mr. Fothersley! Nice weather,” to -him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley did not like it. Most distinctly -it annoyed him! It had been one thing -to go and see Mankelow when he was wounded, -and a patient in the local V.A.D., and make -a considerable fuss over him, but that, as Mr. -Pithey was fond of saying, “was different.” -It was decidedly presuming on it for Mankelow -to treat him in that “Hail fellow, well met” -way.</p> - -<p class='c007'>This brought to Mr. Fothersley’s mind the -threatening strikes among the miners, transport -workers, and what Mr. Fothersley vaguely -designated as “those sort of people.” He wondered -what would happen if all the sweeps went -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>on strike. It was a most dangerous thing to -light fires with a large accumulation of soot up -the chimney—most dangerous.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At this moment he nearly collided with Ruth -Seer, as she came swiftly round the Post Office -corner.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They both stopped, laughed, and apologized.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I was just on my way to you with some of -our early strawberries,” said Mr. Fothersley, -exposing a corner of the contents of his -basket.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How very good of you!” exclaimed Ruth. -“And I do love them. Will you wait for me -one moment? I am going on my way to send a -telegram to Mr. North.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Now curiosity was the most prominent trait -in Mr. Fothersley’s funny little character, and -it was the naked and unashamed curiosity of -the small child. It might almost be looked on -as a virtue turned inside out, so real and keen -was his interest in his neighbors’ affairs, an -interest often followed by sympathy and help.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Telegraphing to North!” he exclaimed. -“What about?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>No inhabitant of any length of time would -have been in the least astonished, but Ruth, for -a moment or two taken thoroughly aback, simply -stared at him. Then, somewhat late in the -day, it began to dawn on her that her telegram -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>to Roger North might possibly demand an explanation, -and one she had no intentions of -giving.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Telegraphing to North? What about?” -repeated Mr. Fothersley, his little pink face -beaming with kindly interest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The whole truth being out of the question, -there was nothing for it but as much as possible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I want to see him to ask his opinion on a -matter of importance,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Astonishment mingled with the curiosity on -Mr. Fothersley’s speaking countenance. Many -things flashed through his mind in the minute -while he and Ruth again stared at each -other, the most prominent being the tongue of -the Postmistress and Mrs. North’s fiery jealousy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley could remember terrible -times, when it had been aroused by lesser matters -than this telegram, aroused to such an extent -that all Mentmore had become aware of -it, and much unnecessary dirty linen washed -in public before the storm subsided.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North himself on these occasions was, in Mr. -Fothersley’s language, difficult, most difficult. -He either teased his wife unmercifully, or lost -his temper and used bad language. The whole -affair was always, again in Mr. Fothersley’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>language, “regrettable, most regrettable,” while -the groundwork of the whole matter was, that -women bored North far more than they ever -amused him, so that if he did talk to one it was -noticeable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was quite evident to Mr. Fothersley that -Miss Seer was wholly unconscious of anything -unusual in her action. This surprised him, for -he had understood she had been a companion, -and a companion’s knowledge of such things, -as a rule, passes belief.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth made a movement to pass on, the fatal -document in her hand. But it was one of those -moments when Mr. Fothersley was supreme.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear lady,” he exclaimed, “I am going -to Westwood so soon as I have deposited my -little offering on your doorstep. Allow me to -take the message for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a deft movement the paper was in his -possession, was neatly folded and placed in -safety in his waistcoat pocket. His little plump -figure turned, plainly prepared to escort her -back to Thorpe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The telegram will explain itself?” he asked, -“or shall I give any message?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I want to consult him about some happenings -on the farm,” answered Ruth. “Things I -should like to talk over with him with as little -delay as possible. Mr. North has been very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>kind, and, I think takes a real interest in -Thorpe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No doubt. No doubt.” Mr. Fothersley -acquiesced cordially. “He was poor Carey’s -most intimate friend. Though indeed we were -all his friends. A most lovable fellow. Indeed, -he was almost too kind-hearted. Anyone could -take him in—and did!” added Mr. Fothersley, -with warmth. “There was a German fellow, -very pleasant, I own, to meet, who used to stay -with him quite a lot at one time. I always felt -how, if they had invaded England, he would -have known every inch of the country round -here, for no doubt he took notes of everything, -as they always did. Funnily enough, he was -taken prisoner badly wounded by Dick’s own -regiment, and died at the clearing station, before -they could get him to a hospital.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked at the sunlit peace of the farm, -for they had reached the gate. She remembered -what Violet Riversley had told her. And -yet Dick Carey had cared for this man.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And they had parted here as friends,” she -said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe Dick was quite cut up about it,” -said Mr. Fothersley. “Very odd. But poor -dear Dick was odd! No sense of proportion, -you know!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>This was a favourite saying of both Mr. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>Fothersley’s and Mrs. North’s. It is doubtful -if either of them quite knew what they meant -by it, but it sounded well.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley repeated it over again, leaning -with his arms on the gate. “No sense of proportion. -A lovable fellow though, most lovable. -Many’s the time we’ve stood here, just as you -and I are standing, watching his birds. You -have the bird pool still, I see.” Mr. Fothersley -fumbled for his glasses. “Yes, and those -wretched little blue-tits everywhere—the worst -offenders in the garden. Even the blossom is -not safe from them. Madness to encourage -them with coconuts and bacon-rind. But as I -said, poor Dick——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>By this time Mr. Fothersley had his glasses -firmly planted across the bridge of his nose. -He could see the pool plainly, and in addition -to several blue-tits, two round cherub faces, -open-mouthed, very still, hanging over the edge -of the bank.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good heavens! What are those?” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only two small visitors of mine,” said Ruth, -smiling. “It is quite wonderful how still they -have learnt to be to watch the birds. They -live in Blackwall Tenements, and their only -playground there is a strip of pavement under -a dust shoot.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>“Oh!” said Mr. Fothersley dubiously. -“Blackwall. That is somewhere in the City.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was interrupted by a shrill, excited, plainly -female voice on its topmost note.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, Tommy! ’e’s caught a f’y!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The next moment every bird had gone, while -the complete figures belonging to the moon faces -arose, as it were out of the ground. Both wore -knickers, both had short hair, but it was plainly -the master male who administered swift and -primitive punishment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There, you’ve done it again!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I forgot—I——” Sobs, bitter and violent, -stopped the lament.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The boy pocketed his hands and moved off.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Jes’ like a woman,” he called over his -shoulder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The other small figure followed him at a humble -distance, wailing aloud till both disappeared -from view.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley shuddered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How can you bear it?” he asked, his little -pink face really concerned. “Even Dick——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Stopped short at Germans,” Ruth ended -for him. “Well, it has its compensations. And -after all, what <em>can</em> one do? I know that playground -under the dust soot! And I have all -this. One could not bear it, if one didn’t have -them down.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>“How many?” asked Mr. Fothersley faintly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth leant back against the gate and gave -way to helpless laughter, while Mr. Fothersley -prodded holes in the bank with his stick and -waited with dignity till she should recover. He -saw nothing to laugh at.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I beg your pardon,” said Ruth, hurriedly -suppressing what she felt from his manner was -most unseemly mirth. “I only have two at a -time,” she added appeasingly. “And they are -really very good on the whole.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should relegate them to the back garden,” -said Mr. Fothersley decisively. “I remember -as a child even <em>I</em> was never allowed to run -wild where I pleased. Good heavens! what is -that noise?” He cocked an attentive ear, as a -sound, like nothing he had ever heard before, -made itself evident.</p> - -<p class='c007'>At the same moment, over the crest of the -lawn appeared a wonderful procession. First -came the small female figure in knickers, brandishing -in her right hand a crimson flag, while -with the left she held a small tin trumpet to -her lips, with which at intervals she blew a -breathless note. The same which had attracted -Mr. Fothersley’s attention. Then, strapped into -his go-cart, and positively smothered in flags -and flowers, came Bertram Aurelius. Finally, -pushing the go-cart with somewhat dangerous -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>vigour, the small Lord of the Show. Around -the procession, leaping and barking, skirmished -Sarah and Selina, while beside the go-cart Larry -padded sedately, snuffing the air delicately, waving -a stately tail.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The procession circled the lawn at the full -speed of the children’s small legs, dropped over -into the garden pathway and disappeared -towards the farmyard.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley softened. The scene had been -a pretty one.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Quite like one of the delightful illustrations -in the children’s books of to-day,” he said, smiling. -“Please don’t think me unsympathetic, -dear lady. A love of children is one of the most -beautiful traits in a woman’s character, and -philanthropy has also its due place. But do -not be carried away by too much enthusiasm. -Do have, as I used to say to poor Dick, a due -sense of proportion. Otherwise you will only -get imposed upon, and do no good in the long -run. Believe me, you have gone quite far -enough with these innovations, and do let it -stop there before you have cause for regret.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley paused and smiled, well -pleased with the turning of his phrases. Also -he felt his advice was good. Ruth acquiesced -with becoming humility, aware only of a little -running commentary which conveyed nothing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>to her. Her mind was entirely absorbed with -the fact that Larry had accompanied the small -procession which had so swiftly crossed their -line of vision and disappeared—Larry, who -kept children severely in their place as became -a dignified gentleman of a certain age, and on -whom not even Selina’s wiliest enticement -produced the smallest effect.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No good ever comes of moving people out -of their natural surroundings,” continued Mr. -Fothersley, holding on his way with complete -satisfaction. “All men cannot be equal, and -it only makes them discontented with the state -of life in which it has pleased God to place -them. Personally I believe also they are quite -unable to appreciate better conditions. Why, -when——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And here, to the little man’s astonishment, -Ruth suddenly, and very vividly, turned on -him, shaking a warning finger in front of his -startled nose.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mr. Fothersley, if you tell me that old story -about the chickens in the bathroom, I warn you -I am quite unable to bear it. I shall hold forth, -and either make you very cross with me or -bore you to death. I have lived amongst the -very poor, and between your view of them and -mine there is a great gulf fixed. I know what -you cannot know—their sufferings, their endurance, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>their patience. I would have every -child in London down here if I could—so there! -And they may love their squalor and filth, as -people here have said to me. It is all the home -they have ever known. It is the great indictment -against our civilization.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she stopped and suddenly smiled at him, -it was a smile that barred offence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There, you see! Don’t start me off, whatever -you do!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley smiled back. “My dear lady, -I admire your kindness of heart. It is your -lack of any sense of proportion——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was at this moment that Mr. Pithey appeared, -magnificent in a new tweed knickerbocker -suit of a tawny hue, with immaculate -gaiters, brown boots and gloves; a cap to match -the suit, upon his head; the inevitable cigar in -his mouth; looking incongruous enough, between -the wild rose and honeysuckle hedges.</p> - -<p class='c007'>To discover a couple of anything like marriageable -age alone together, in what he called -“the lanes,” suggested one thing and one thing -only to Mr. Pithey’s mind. His manner assumed -a terrible geniality.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now don’t let me disturb you,” he said, -waving a large newly gloved hand. “Just a -word with this lady, and I’m off.” He perpetrated -a wink that caused Mr. Fothersley to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>shut his eyes. “Two’s company and three’s -none, eh?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley opened his eyes and endeavoured -to stare him down with concentrated rage -and disgust. But Mr. Pithey held on his way, -undisturbed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Wonderful how you meet everybody in this -little place! Just passed Lady Condor. Jove! -how that woman does cake her face with paint. -At her age too! What’s the use? Doesn’t -worry me, but Mrs. Pithey disapproves of that -sort of thing root and branches.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>If Mr. Fothersley could have called down fire -from heaven and slain Mr. Pithey at that moment, -he would undoubtedly have done so; as it -was, he could only struggle impotently for words -wherewith to convey to him some sense of his insufferable -impertinence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And words failed him. His little round face -quivering with rage, he stammered for a moment -unintelligibly, making furious gestures with his -disengaged hand at the astonished Mr. Pithey. -Finally he turned his back and thrust the basket -of strawberries into Ruth’s hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Please send the basket back at your convenience, -Miss Seer,” he said. Even in that -moment he did not forget the importance of -the return of one of the Leigh Manor baskets. -“Good-morning.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>“Touching little brute,” remarked Mr. Pithey -cheerfully, gazing after him. “What’s upset -him now? He’ll have an apoplectic fit if he -walks at that rate in this heat, a man of his -built and a hearty eater too!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Indeed poor Mr. Fothersley, by the time he -reached the Manor, between rage and nervousness, -for who could say what thoughts Mr. -Pithey’s egregious remarks might not have -given rise to in Miss Seer’s mind, was in a very -sad state.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was impossible to risk driving to Westwood -in an open car. He ordered the landaulette, -closed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was necessary to go because he had Miss -Seer’s telegram to deliver. Also the desire was -strong upon him for the people of his own little -world, those who felt things as he felt them, -and saw things even as he saw them. He wanted -to talk over the various small happenings of -the morning with an understanding spirit; the -sweep’s familiarity, Miss Seer’s odd activities, -and last, but not least, Mr. Pithey’s hateful -facetiousness. Above all, though he hardly -knew it himself, he wanted to get with people -who were the same as people had been before -the war, to get away from this continual obtrusion -of an undercurrent of difference, of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>change, which so disquieted him, and he wanted, -badly wanted, comfort and sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The Norths were by themselves, and proportionately -glad to see him. Violet had left, on -a sudden impulse, that morning, and fresh visitors -were not expected till the following week.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The very atmosphere of Nita North comforted -the little man. The atmosphere of the -great commonplace, the unimaginative, the egotistic. -An atmosphere untouched by the war. -Peace descended on his troubled spirit as he -unfolded his table napkin and watched the -butler, in the very best manner of the best butler -lift the silver cover in front of Mrs. North from -the golden-brown veal cutlets, each with its -dainty roll of fat bacon, Mr. Fothersley’s favourite -luncheon dish, while North, who had his -moments of insight, said:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Some of the Steinberg Cabinet for Mr. -Fothersley, Mansfield.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Indeed, both the Norths saw at once that Mr. -Fothersley was not quite himself, that he had -been upset.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was impossible to tell the chief causes of -his annoyance before the servants, though, in -an interval, he commented on the familiar -behaviour of the sweep, and his views as to -the results of “the new independence” on the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>working classes, and the danger of strikes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have no patience with this pandering to -the lower classes,” said Mrs. North. “They -must be taught.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North, who was genuinely fond of little Mr. -Fothersley, did not ask “How?” as he had an -irritating habit of doing when he heard his wife -enunciate this formula.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley agreed. “Certainly, they -must be taught.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was distinctly soothed. The Steinberg -Cabinet had not altered, indeed it had gained -in its power to minister. The objectionable -feeling that the foundations on which his world -was built were quivering and breaking up subsided -into the background, and by the time -the coffee came, and the servants departed, he -was his usual genial kindly little self, and could -even give a risible turn to his account of Mr. -Pithey’s impertinence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I lost my temper and, I am afraid, practically -gibbered at him with rage,” he owned. -“I was hardly dignified. But that I should -live to hear that Marion Condor is disapproved -of by Mrs. Pithey!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Insolent brute!” said Mrs. North, all unconscious -that her language was Pithian. “Can -nobody put him in his place?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He must be taught,” suggested North -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>wickedly. But, though his wife shot a doubtful -glance at him, Mr. Fothersley took the suggestion -in good faith.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I quite agree with you, Roger. The question -is, How? Unfortunately we have all -called.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We could all cut him,” suggested Mrs. -North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t approve of cutting people, my dear -Nita. In a small community it makes things -very unpleasant and leads to such uncomfortable -situations.” Indeed, Mr. Fothersley had -more than once interposed in almost a high-handed -manner to prevent Mrs. North cutting -ladies of whom she thought she had reason to -be jealous. “No, I sincerely wish we had never -called, but having called, and indeed invited -these people to our houses, received them as -guests, I should deprecate cutting them. You -agree with me, Roger?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly. The Pitheys would not care if -you did. Also he is the sort of man who -could worry you a good deal in the village if -he took it into his head to do so. Better keep -good terms with him if you can.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What did Miss Seer say?” asked Mrs. -North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t remember her saying anything, but -I was so agitated. I didn’t, of course, even -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>look at her. You don’t think his remarks will -give rise to any ideas——” Mr. Fothersley -paused, looking from one to the other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good Lord, no!” said North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“How do you know?” asked his wife sharply. -“I should certainly advise Arthur to keep away -for the future.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North shrugged his shoulders as he rose from -the table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I expect you will like your cigar in the -garden with Nita,” he said, pushing the box -across the table to his guest. “I’ve got some -letters to write.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>When he reached his study he took Ruth’s -telegram out of his pocket-book and, lighting a -match, burned it very carefully to ashes. -“Bless their small minds,” he said.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span> - <h2 id='VII' class='c005'>CHAPTER VII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Ruth met North as he came up the garden -path.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you have come this afternoon! I did -so hope you would.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is it?” he asked. “Nothing wrong -with the farm?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Wrong with the farm!” Ruth laughed. -“Now just <em>feel</em> it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was steeped in sunshine and the scent -of violas. On the garden wall the pigeons -cooed sleepily. From the river came the lilt of -a child’s laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It feels all right,” said North gravely.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just as happy and sound and wholesome as -can be,” she said. “I asked you to come because -something wonderful—I believe wonderful—has -happened. I felt I must tell you at -once. And I want to ask you things, want to -ask you quite terribly badly. Come up and sit -by the blue flower border. I have the chairs -there. It is at its very best.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So you have kept that too,” said North, -even as his daughter had said.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>“It is one of the many beautiful things I -found here,” she answered. “The place is full -of thoughts just like that. I hope I have not -lost any, but if I have they will come back.” -She stopped to lift up some of the frail nemophilas. -Just so North had seen women arrange -their children’s hair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are not the delphiniums in perfection? -They always look to me as if they were praying.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Now years ago, standing in just that selfsame -spot, Dick Carey had said that very same thing. -It came back to North in a flash, and how he -had answered:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I should think those meek droopy white -things look more like it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>For a moment he hesitated. Then he gave -her the same answer.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “To pray you -must aspire. And they must be blue.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Dick Carey had said, “Prayer is aspiration, -not humility. Besides, they’re not blue.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Again that sense of well-being which had belonged -to the companionship of his friend stole -over North. Again the bitterness and pain -seemed to fade and melt. The present took on -a new interest, a new understanding. He gave -himself up to it with a sigh of content as he -dropped into the chair by Ruth Seer’s side. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>The warmth of the June afternoon, the sleepy -murmur of the life of the farm, the hum of -bees, that wonderful blue, it was all part of it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now light your pipe and be very comfortable,” -she said, and left him alone while the -peace and beauty soaked in. Left him alone -for how long he did not know. When you touch -real rest, time ceases.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently he re-lit the pipe which he had -lighted and left to go out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Now,” he said, “tell me. I am ready to be -convinced of anything wonderful, just here and -now.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled. She was sitting very still, her -elbow on her knee, her chin in the hollow of her -hand. A great content made her face beautiful. -Her grey eyes dwelt lovingly upon the -little world, which held so many worlds in its -circle. The laughter of the children came again -across the field. Then she began to talk.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is so wonderful,” she said. “I can -hardly yet believe it can be true, which is -so foolish, because the truth undoubtedly <em>is</em> -wonderful beyond our conceiving. We only see -such little bits of it here, even the wisest of us. -And we will think it is the whole. When we -do see the whole, I think what will be the most -wonderful thing about it will be its amazing -simplicity. We shall wonder how we ever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>groped about among so many seeming complications, -so much dirt and darkness.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped for a few moments, and North -waited. He felt he was shrinking back into -himself, away from whatever might be coming. -Like many very intellectual persons, he was -inclined to resent what he could not account -for, and to be wholly unsympathetic, if not a -little brutal, towards it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Psychical investigation always had repelled -him. Repelled him only less, and in a different -way, than the search for knowledge among the -tortured entrails of friendly dogs. With the -great forces of nature he could fight cleanly, -and courageously, to harness them to the service -of man. They were enormously interesting, -amazingly beautiful. Powerful enough to protect -themselves if necessary. One wrested -their secrets from them at one’s own peril. -And the scientist who strives with the great -forces of nature has the mark of his craft -branded into his very soul. Its name is Truth. -To that mark, if he be a true scientist, he is -faithful absolutely, unswervingly. Indeed it -must be so. And, ever seeking the truth, the -true scientist knows that his discoveries are -ever only partial; that soon, even before his own -little day here is ended, will come new discoveries -which shall modify the old. So that he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>will never say “I know,” only “I am learning.” -And now for the first time psychic investigation -was making its appeal to him, by the mouth -of Ruth Seer, in the name of Truth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very well, tell me,” he said, struggling with -his dislike. “I will cast from me, as far as -possible all preconceived objections, and, possibly, -prejudices. I will bring an open mind.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth turned, her whole face alight. “Ah, -that is just what I want! Only be as critical as -you will. I want that too. That is why I -wanted so much to tell you, because you will -bring a trained mind to bear on it all. Because -of that, and also because you are his friend, I -can speak about it to you. It would be very -difficult to anyone else.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped, gathering herself up as it were, -before she started.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You remember the day you first came? To -fetch Larry?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North nodded.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We all forgathered together at the gate, -you and I and the dogs. I told you about Larry, -how he had come the night before, tired and -miserable, and hunted everywhere, and early in -the morning he had gone again, so far as I knew. -And just before you came I had found him down -by the stream, quite happy apparently, with a -man. I think I told you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The man was watching some kingfishers, -and I stopped to watch them too. Very still we -all were. I had never seen the birds close. -The man was lying on the grass, but he looked a -tall man. He wore a brown suit, rather shabby. -I could not see his face, only the back of his head -propped up on his hand. It was a long, thin -hand, very sunburnt. A well-shaped, sensitive -hand. And he had dark hair with a strong -wave in it. Though it was cut very short, the -waves showed quite plainly and evenly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North had taken his pipe out of his mouth -now and was staring at it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then your motor siren startled us all, and -the man vanished as swiftly, it seemed, as the -birds. I wondered just a little—when I thought -of it after, where he could have got to—but not -for long. This morning I saw the same man -again. I was in the buttercup field, and he -was standing in the road in front of the new -cottages, looking at them. Again I could only -see his back, and he is very tall. He had no -hat on, and it was the same dark wavy hair. -You know the little pitch of hill that goes up -to the cottages? When I reached the bottom I -could see him quite clearly. He was pulling -Larry towards him by a handkerchief lead, and -then letting him go suddenly—playing with him, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>you know. And I could hear Larry snarling -as a dog does in play. Then Larry caught -sight of me and stopped to look. And when -he looked the man turned and looked at me -too——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She paused. The summer sounds of the farm -sang on, but it seemed that just around those -two there was a tense silence. North broke it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well!” he said, his voice harsh and almost -impatient.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He had a thin, very sunburnt face,” -Ruth went on, “lined, but with the lines that -laughter makes. Very blue eyes, the blue eyes -that look as if they had a candle lit behind them. -When he saw me he smiled. There was a flash -of very white teeth, and his smile was like a -sudden bright light.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North’s pipe dropped on to the flagged pathway -with the little dull click of falling wood.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth leant towards him; her voice dropped -almost to a whisper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Was Dick Carey like that?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes.” North met her eyes for the first time -since she had begun to tell him. The suggestion -of unwillingness to listen which had shown -in his manner from the first dropped from him. -“What happened next?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t quite know how to describe it. He -did not fade or vanish or anything like that. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>He remained quite distinct, and that wonderful -smile still shone, but my sight failed. It -seemed to grow more and more dim until at last -I could not see him at all. I hurried, I even -tried to call out to him, but it was no good.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But you were not blind; you could see everything -else?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, when I looked for them I could. I -wish I could explain to you how it was. The -nearest I can get to it is, that his figure, while I -saw it, stood out more distinctly than anything -else. All the rest seemed in the background, -indistinct by comparison. Ah, I know—like—have -you ever noticed on a bright sunny day, -looking in a shop window, how suddenly the -things reflected are much clearer and more -visible than the things actually in the window? -They seem to recede, and the reflection is strong -and clear. Well, it was something like that. -As if one had two sights and one for the moment -overbore the other. I’m explaining badly, -but it’s difficult. At any rate he did not evaporate -or fade as they say these visions invariably -do. It was the sight failed me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is enormously interesting,” said North -slowly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see,” said Ruth eagerly, “ever since I -came here this—this being in touch with Dick -Carey has been growing. It is becoming a wonderful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>experience; it seems to me of possibly -enormous value, but I don’t want to take it one -step beyond where it can reasonably and -legitimately be taken. I want the truth about -it. I want your brains, your intelligence, to -help me. I want you honestly and truly to -tell me just what you think of these happenings. -And I want to know whether you yourself have -had any sense of his presence here, even ever -so faint.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North recovered his pipe, re-lit it, and began -to smoke again before he answered. Indeed, -he smoked in silence for quite a long time.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I cannot deny the fact,” he said at length, -“that I have what perhaps should be described -as a prejudice against any supposed communication -with the dead. It has always been surrounded, -to my mind, with so much that is undesirable, -nor do I believe in any revelation save -that of science, and on these lines science has no -revelation. But there are two things here that -do force themselves on my consideration. One -is that you never knew Dick in the flesh, the -other that since you came here, not before, I -have myself felt, not a presence of any sort, -but the sense of well-being and content which -always belonged to my companionship with him. -And that I never feel anywhere but at Thorpe, -or at Thorpe except when you are with me. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>latter can be explained in various ways. The -former is rather different. Have you ever seen -a photograph of Dick, or has anyone described -him to you?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No. I have never seen a photograph, and -no one has ever described his appearance to -me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she smiled at him suddenly and delightfully. -“I am not a curious woman, but I am -human,” she said. “Before we go any further, -for pity’s sake describe Dick Carey to me, and -tell me if he was in the habit of leading Larry -by a pocket-handkerchief!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You <em>have</em> described him,” said North, smiling -too. “Especially his smile. I am short-sighted, -but I could always tell Dick in a crowd -if he smiled, long before I could distinguish his -features. And he did lead Larry by his handkerchief. -It was a regular game between them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Surely that is in the nature of proof!” exclaimed -Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let us call it circumstantial evidence.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But worth even your—a scientist’s—consideration?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Undoubtedly! By the way, what happened -to Larry?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When I thought of him again it was some -little time later; he was going back to the house -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>across the field. And—and—oh, I know it -sounds mad—he was following somebody, and -so were Sarah and Selina. You know, don’t -you, what I mean? Dogs run quite differently -when they are out on their own. And I have -never known Sarah and Selina leave me to -follow anyone else before, in all their lives.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Any dog would follow Dick,” said North, -and then looked as if he would like to have -taken the words back, but she stopped him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You promised,” she said. “And that, too, -is a piece of evidence. As I said, I don’t want -to push it a fraction of an inch beyond where -it will go. But think what it means? The -breaking down of that awful impassable wall -between the living and the dead. Think what -some knowledge, of the next step only, beyond -the Gateway of Death means.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Always supposing there is a next step,” -said North. “Again there is no evidence I can -accept. Though, mind you”—he was really in -earnest now—“I am not among those who are -content, indeed glad, that it should all end here. -This old universe is too interesting a riddle to -drop after a few years’ study.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, do you know Walt Whitman’s lines?—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>“This day, before dawn, I ascended a hill and looked at the crowded Heaven.</div> - <div class='line'>And I said to my spirit,</div> - <div class='line'>When we become the enfolders of these orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of everything in them,</div> - <div class='line'>Shall we be filled and satisfied then?</div> - <div class='line'>And my spirit said, No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>North nodded. “That’s it! I’m out for that -right enough, if it’s going. I don’t say, mind -you, that I’m certain we don’t go on. I’m not -such a fool. But, to my mind, all the evidence -so far is the other way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you ever tried to get evidence?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No. All the methods appear to me to be -objectionable, very. Even over this—this possible -sight of yours—I don’t feel keen on the -idea that those who have gone are hanging -round their old homes, round us who cannot -cognize them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He spoke haltingly, as if expressing himself -with difficulty. His unwillingness to discuss -these matters again became evident.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But surely time and space in the next world -will not exist as we understand them here, and -that must make an almost incalculable difference. -And when you think that so many -gave their lives for this world, isn’t it reasonable -to think that the work for some of them -may still be linked up with it? Do you remember -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>when you were talking of the outlook at -the present moment, and Lady Condor asked -me what I thought of it? And I said we were -not alone, that those who had died that things -might be better, they with their added knowledge—guided—helped—you -remember? Well, -that wasn’t <em>my own</em> idea somehow. It came to -me from somewhere else, quite suddenly, on -the moment, as it were. And I had to say it—though -I felt shy and uncomfortable. One does -not speak of these things to all the world. But -<em>some one</em> wanted me to say it—just then and -there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped, and in both their minds was a -vision of Violet Riversley’s beautiful angry unhappy -face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I remember,” answered North. “And your -idea is that Dick’s mind can communicate with -yours by thought?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth thought a little; her eyes looked out -without seeing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is not an idea,” she said at last. “I -know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And have you any idea or knowledge why it -should be so, seeing you never knew each other -in this life? If you had, and had loved very -deeply, it would be more comprehensible, though -less interesting from the point of view of proving -communication. As it is, there seems to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>me nothing sufficiently important to account for -it. Nothing beyond a certain likeness of -thought and interests.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled. The interest had gripped him -again. He was thinking out aloud. She waited -until he looked at her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is your explanation?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And suddenly Ruth found it amazingly difficult -to explain. The memory of that velvet -night of stars, the message in the song of the -little brown bird, the revelation which had come -to her, swept over her again with a renewed -and surprising sweetness, but of words she -seemed bereft. Compared with the wonder and -beauty of the thought they seemed utterly inadequate -and hopeless. She put out both her -hands with a little foreign gesture of helplessness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You have none?” he asked, and she caught -the disappointment in his voice, and looking at -him saw, as she had seen once before on his -first visit, the lonely tired soul of the man who, -losing Dick Carey, had lost much. And Dick -Carey was there, so very surely there.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It isn’t the personal love for one that really -brings together,” she said, her voice very, very -gentle. “It is the love for everything that has -life or breath. <em>That</em> love must be communion. -It makes you belong.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>There was a little silence before she went on:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see, I never had any one person to concentrate -on, unless it was old Raphael Goltz, -and looking back, I see now he was a cosmic sort -of person. He did really in some way grip -the whole of things, and it helped me more than -I had any idea of at the time. Then I cared -so much for all the men out in Flanders who -came in and out of my life so swiftly and spasmodically. -Then I came here, and found how -much I cared for all living things in the lower -worlds. And he is linked up too with them all, -because he cared so much. And we have both -by chance, whatever chance may be, focused -on Thorpe. Do you at all understand what I -mean?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, after a fashion,” said North. “It’s like -watching some one dimly moving about in an -unknown, and to me a visionary, world. I own -you are right—he moved in it too; and I am -also ready to own it is possible because of my -own limitations that I can only regard it as -visionary.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Raphael had many books dealing with these -things,” said Ruth. “I feel so sorry now that -they did not interest me then. You see, I had -never lost anyone by death. I had no one to -lose. It was only out in France when the men -came in and drank my soup or coffee, and some -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>slept like tired children, and others played a -game of cards, or talked to me of home, and we -all seemed like children of one family belonging -to each other. And in a few hours, perhaps -less, I would see one or more of them lying -dead—gone out like flames extinguished quite -suddenly. And I didn’t know what life or death -meant.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North nodded. “It hits one sometimes,” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And their people at home—I used to write -for some of those who were brought in to the -estaminet and died before they could get them -farther. One thought of them all the time. -Going on with their everyday life at home, -and waiting. That is why what has happened -to me here seems so amazingly important, why -its truth needs such close questioning, why I -so much want your help.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“For what it is worth it is at your disposal, -and”—he paused before he went on with decision—“I -own I am interested, as I have never -been before in so-called communication with -another world.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There are some books here dealing with -psychic faculties. I found them on the top of -the oak bookcase. Mostly by German authors. -Would they have been Mr. Carey’s?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>“More likely they belonged to a friend of his -who used to stay here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, the German friend!” exclaimed Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You have heard of him?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Mr. Fothersley spoke of him only this morning, -and your daughter mentioned him the other -day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He was an interesting personality, and very -strong on the point that there were extraordinary -powers and forces latent in man. I -never cared to discuss them with him. He went -too far, and looking back I think I almost unconsciously -dreaded his influence over Dick. -I don’t think I need have. Dick was, I recognize -it now, the stronger of the two.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But he was interested in the same things?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Undoubtedly. Possibly I was jealous; I -preferred him to be interested in my particular -line of study. He <em>was</em> interested to a great extent -of course, but von Schäde’s lines of thought -appealed to him more. I remember the last -night von Schäde was here. It was in the June -of 1914. He had been paying Dick a long visit -and was leaving in the morning. It was the -sort of night when the world seems much bigger -than it does by day—a wonderful night. -The sky was thick with stars, and he stood just -over there with their light on his face, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>talked to us as if we were a public meeting. -He was a good-looking chap in a hard frozen -sort of style. Oliver Lodge had been speaking -to the Royal Art Society on the Sources of -Power, and it had got von Schäde on to his -hobby.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“‘You talk of the power of atomic energy, -you scientists,’ he said; ‘it is as nothing compared -with the forces possessed by man in himself. -If we studied these, if we understood -these, if we knew how to harness and direct -them, there is nothing in heaven and earth we -should not be masters of. Men—we should be -gods! And you men with brains puddle about -among the forces of nature, blind and deaf to -the forces in man which could harness every -one of the forces of nature obedient to your -will, and leave the study of these things to hysterical -madmen and neurotic women. And -those who have some knowledge, who have the -gift, the power, to experiment with these forces -if they would, they are afraid of this and that. -My God, you make me sick!’</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He threw out both his arms and his face -was as white as a sheet. Old Dick got up and -put his arm round the fellow’s shoulders. -Goodness knows what he saw in him! ‘We’ll -get the forces harnessed right enough, old -fellow, when we’re fit to use them,’ he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>“And they looked at each other for a full -minute, von Schäde glaring and Dick smiling, -and then von Schäde suddenly began to laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“‘Mostly I’m fond of you, Dick,’ he said, -‘but sometimes I hate you like the deuce!’</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He went the next morning, and I was glad. -For another thing he fell in love with Vi, and -she was such a little demon to flirt that until -the last minute you never knew if she was serious -or not. Morally and socially he was irreproachable, -but—well, I didn’t like him! -I often wondered how he took the news of her -engagement to Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That happened after he left?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes. The second time Dick went out to -the front. He wasn’t a marrying man really. -But you know how things were then. Vi broke -down over his going, and he had always been -fond of her since she was a baby. But I don’t -think it would have been a success. I never -could picture old Dick as anything but a bachelor.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He stopped, for he saw she was not listening. -She was thinking hard. Her black brows bent, -her grey eyes almost as black beneath them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is very interesting,” she said presently, -speaking slowly, as one tracking an idea. -“Von Schäde must have known that Dick Carey -knew better how to exercise those latent powers -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>than he did. They were both seeking the same -thing from different motives.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Explain, please.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was silent again for a moment, still -thinking hard. “It’s not easy, you know,” she -said. “But this is the best I can do. They -were both scientists of the invisible, just as you -are a scientist of the visible, but Dick Carey -was seeking union with God and von Schäde -was seeking knowledge and power for himself. -Therefore they studied the unseen sources of -life and death by different methods, and Dick -Carey had got farther than von Schäde and -von Schäde knew it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North shook his head. “Now you are wandering -in the mist so far as I am concerned,” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth sighed. “I explain badly, but then I -am only struggling in the mist myself. I wish -I had cared for these things when Raphael Goltz -was alive! So many things he said which -passed me by then come back to me now with -a new meaning. But there is one thing just -lately I have felt very strongly. When he was -in the physical body Dick Carey was a far more -wonderful man than any of you knew—except -probably von Schäde. Yes, you loved him I -know, the world is black without him, but you -didn’t think he was anything extraordinary. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>You are a great man and he was nobody, in the -eyes of the world. You don’t know even now -how wonderful he was. And now he has escaped -from this clogging mould, this blinding veil of -physical matter, he is, I firmly believe, making -this little corner of the earth, this little Sussex -farm, what every home and village the town -might be if we were in touch with the invisible -secret source of all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped, for she felt that North was not -following her any longer, was shrinking back -again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!” she cried, “why won’t you believe it is -worth your study at any rate?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North turned on her suddenly, harshly, almost -brutally.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t,” he said hoarsely. “Don’t you see -it’s all shapeless, formless, to a mind like mine? -I want to believe. God! it would give one -an horizon beyond eternity; but you talk of -what to me is foolishness.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He looked at her with an immeasurable -dreariness of soul in his eyes, and very gently -she put her worn brown hand in his and held -it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Listen,” she said, and her voice was deep -with sudden music. “The children come now. -You cannot keep them away. Something draws -them to Thorpe. The wild creatures one can -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>understand. It is sanctuary. But the children—it -must mean something.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You are here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shrank back as if hurt. “No, oh no! It -is not me. It is something altogether beyond -me. Oh, do listen. They were always slipping -in, or standing by the gate with their little faces -peeping between the bars. Quite tinies some of -them, and I took them back to their homes at -first. I thought their mothers would be anxious. -And then—then I began to guess. So -now I have given them the field beyond the -stream and they come out of school hours.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The lower field!” exclaimed North. “No -wonder you have taken Fothersley’s breath -away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, he does not know of that. Fortunately -he was here in the morning during school -hours, so he only saw the Blackwall children. -You see,” she added apologetically, “it is <em>such</em> -a child’s field, with the stream and the little -wood with blue-bells, and there are cowslips -in the spring and nuts in the autumn, and I -shall make hay as usual, of course. We cut -on Tuesday.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t you find them very destructive?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They haven’t trampled down a yard of -grass,” said Ruth triumphantly. “I gave them -a strip by the stream under the silver birches. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>The primrose bit, you know, and the wood. -And the hay is in a way their property. You -go and try to walk across it! You’ll have a -nest full of jackdaws at you!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But the trees and flowers!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is just another thing,” she smiled at -him. “Oh, why won’t you believe? I have -had to teach them hardly anything. They -know. No branch is ever torn down. Never -will you find those pathetic little bunches of -picked and thrown-away flowers here. The -birds are just as tame. I teach them very little. -I’m afraid of spoiling my clumsy help. It is -so wonderful. They bring crumbs of any -special bit of cake they get, for the birds, and -plant funny little bits of roots and sow seeds. -Come down and see them with me. I don’t -take, or tell, other people. I am so afraid of -it getting spoilt.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North extracted his long frame from his -chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“All right,” he said, with that odd smile of -his as of one humouring a child. “But you are -mad, you know, quite mad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You said that to me before.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then North remembered suddenly that -he had often said it to Dick Carey.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Their way led across the flower garden, and -under the cherry-orchard trees where the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>daisies shone like snow on the green of the -close-cut grass. Here they found Bertram Aurelius -lying on his back talking in strange language -to the whispering leaves above him, and -curling and uncurling his bare pink toes in the -dappled sunlight. His mother sat beside him, -her back against a tree trunk, mending the -household linen when she could keep her eyes -off him for more than a minute. The dogs fell -upon Bertram Aurelius, who took them literally -to his bosom, fighting them just as a little -puppy fights, and his mother smiled up at them -with her big blue eyes and foolish loose-lipped -red mouth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you ever heard anything of the -father?” said North, when they were out of -earshot.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Killed at Bullecourt,” Ruth answered. “I -could not help feeling it was perhaps best. He -will be a hero to her now always.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The lower field was steeped in the afternoon -sunshine, and the children were chirping like -so many birds. Two sat by the stream blowing -dandelion clocks, which another small child -carried to them with careful footsteps, his -tongue protruding in the anxious effort to convey -the fragile globes in safety before they -floated away. Two bigger boys were planting -busily in a clearing in the wood. Another slept, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>seemingly just as he had fallen, with all the lissom -grace of childhood, and on the bank beside -him a small girl crooned to something she -nursed against her flat little chest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Roger North looked at the peaceful scene -with relief.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I believe I’d expect a sort of school feast,” -he said. “If you don’t break forth any more -violently than this, I’m with you. What are -the little beggars planting?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Michaelmas daisies. They should do there, -don’t you think? And we are trying lilies in -that far corner. The soil is damp and peaty. -We were too late for fruit trees this year but -I’ve great plans for autumn planting.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North, oddly enough, so it seemed to many, -was popular with children. He never asked -them endless questions, or if they wanted to -do this or that. He liked the little people, and -had discovered that at heart they were like -the shy wild things. Leave them alone and keep -quiet, and, ten to one, presently a little hand -will creep into yours.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He let himself down on the bank near the -crooning child, in silence. She was a thin white -slip of a thing, with very fair hair and a pair -of big translucent eyes. It was an old doll -she was nursing, so old that its face had practically -disappeared, and a blank white circle -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>gazed to heaven from under a quite smart tam-o’-shanter. -She was telling some story apparently, -but only now and then were any words -intelligible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently she began to look at North sideways, -and her voice rose out of its low monotone -into a higher key. It was like the sudden -movement of a bird nearer to something or -some one whose <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">bona fides</span></i> it has at first mistrusted.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The words she was crooning became more -intelligible, and gradually North realized, to -his astonishment, that she was repeating, after -her own fashion, the old Saga of Brynhild the -warrior maid whom Segurd found clad in helm -and byrne. A queer mixture of the ride of the -Valkyries, of Brynhild asleep surrounded by -the eternal fires. Brynhild riding her war-horse -on to the funeral pyre. Loki the Fire -God. Wotan with his spear. All were mixed -up in a truly wonderful whole. But still more -to his astonishment it was the sword which -appealed evidently above all to this small white -maiden. On the sword she dwelt lovingly, and -wove her tale around its prowess. And when -she had brought her recital to a triumphantly -shrill close at the moment when Siegmund -draws the sword from the tree, she turned and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>looked him full in the face, half shyly, half -triumphantly, wholly appealing. It was as if -she said, “What do you think of that now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North nodded at her. “That’s first rate, -you know,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Which would you choose, if you had the -choice? Would you choose the ring or the -sword?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, I’m inclined to think old Wotan’s -spear is more in my line,” said North in a tone -of proper thoughtful consideration. “It broke -the sword once, didn’t it? At least I believe -it did. But it’s rather a long time ago since I -read about these things. Do you learn them -at school?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They aren’t lessons.” She looked at him -with some contempt. “They’re stories.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s such a long time ago since anyone told -me stories,” said North apologetically. “I’m -afraid I’ve forgotten.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked at him with compassion, holding -the battered doll closer to her. Her eyes reminded -him of a rain-washed sky.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I tell Tommy lots of stories,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Another child’s voice called to her from the -wood, “Moira, Moira,” and she fled away. It -was like the sudden flight of a bird.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Who is the child who tells her dolls the story -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>of the Ring?” he asked Ruth, when she rejoined -him. “She is rather like one of Rackham’s -Rhine Maidens herself, by the way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Moria Kent? Isn’t she a lovely little thing? -Her mother is the village school-mistress.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, that accounts for it I suppose,” said -North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth opened her mouth to speak, and closed -it again. Instead of what she had meant to say, -she said, “Come, it is time for tea. And I have -ordered strawberries and cream.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span> - <h2 id='VIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Roger North let himself down into the -cane deck-chair by his study window with -a sigh of relief. The wonderful weather still -held. It had been a hot morning, there were -people staying in the house—people who bored -North—and lunch had been to him a wearisome -meal. Everyone had consumed a great -deal of food and wine and talked an amazing -lot of nonsense, and made a great deal of noise, -and the heat had become unbearable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Here, though the warmth was great, the stillness -was perfect. The rest of the world had -retired to their rooms to change for the tennis -party in the afternoon. North felt he could -depend on at least an hour of quiet. Across -the rosebeds and smooth lawns he could see his -cattle lying in the tall grass under the trees. -He watched others moving slowly from shade -to shade—Daisy and Bettina, and Fancy—and -presently Patricia, the big white mother -of many pigs, hove in sight on her way to the -woods. For North was a farmer too, and loved -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>his beasts better, it must be owned, than he -loved his own kind.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He cut a hole in the orange he had brought -from the lunch-table and commenced to suck -in great content. Like the ladies of Cranford -he considered there was no other way to -eat an orange. He also agreed with them that -it was a pleasure that should be enjoyed in -private.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He gave himself up to the soothing peace -and rest of his cool shaded room. The friendly -faces of his beloved books looked down on him, -the fragrance of his roses came in, hot and -sweet, a very quintessence of summer. Patricia -had reached the wood now; he watched her -dignified waddle disappear in its green depths. -What a pleasant and beautiful world it all was, -except for the humans.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He dropped the jangling remains of the irritating -lunch interval out of his consciousness, -and his mind drifted back to his morning’s -work, the conclusion of a week of observation, -of measurements, of estimating quantities, of -balancing relations. A week of the scientist’s all-absorbing -pursuit of knowledge, which had, as -his wife complained, made him deaf and dumb -and blind to all else. A disturbing fact in his -work was beginning to force itself upon him. -He was becoming more and more conscious -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>that, in spite of the exquisite delicacy of scientific -apparatus, observation was becoming increasingly -difficult. He could no longer make -the atom a subject of observation; it escaped -him. He was beginning to base his arguments -on mathematical formula. Even with the chemical -atom, four degrees below the ultimate physical -atom, he was beginning to reason, without -basing his reasons on observation, because -he could not observe; it was too minute, too fine, -too delicate—it escaped him. He had no instrument -delicate enough to observe. He had -come to a deadlock. The fact forced itself -upon him with ever-increasing insistence; he -could no longer deny it. He could carry some -of his investigations no farther without the aid -of finer, subtler instruments. His methods -failed him. Nor could his particular order of -mind accept the new psychology. He could not -investigate by means of hypnotism, or autoscopy, -or accept the strange new psychological -facts which were revolutionizing all the -old ideas of human consciousness, because he -could not get away from the fundamental fact -that science had no theory with which these -strange new things would fit, no explanation, -as he had said to Ruth Seer, which could arrange -them in a rational order. And, dreaming -in the warmth of the afternoon, with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>fragrance and beauty of the wonderful universe -filtering into his consciousness, the idea -penetrated with ever-growing insistence: Had -the gods, by some wonderful chance, by some -amazing good fortune, placed in his hands, his, -Roger North’s, an instrument, finer, subtler, -more delicate, than any of which he had ever -dreamed, the consciousness that was materializing -as Ruth Seer? He seemed struggling -with himself, or rather with another self—a -self that was striving to draw him into misty -unreal things, and he shrank back into his world -of what seemed to him solid, tangible things, -things that he could touch and handle and prove -by measure and calculation and observation. -And then again the larger vision gripped him. -Was there indeed a finer, subtler, more wonderful -matter, waiting to be explored by different, -finer, subtler methods? What was it Dick Carey -and Ruth Seer cognized, contracted with outside -his ken? Could he be certain it did not exist? -“God! it would give you an horizon beyond -eternity,” he had said to Ruth Seer; that was -true enough—if the vision was true. Always -till now he had thought of any vision beyond -as a fable, invented by wise men to help lesser -men through what was after all but a sorry -business. And now, for the first time, it really -gripped him—what it would mean if it were -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>not a fable, not a useful deception for weaker -men who could not face life as it really was. -God! it would give you an horizon beyond -eternity! The vision was as yet only a dim -muddle of infinite possibilities and Roger -North’s mind hated muddle. He was like the -blind man of Bethsaida who, when Christ -touched his eyes, looked up, and saw men, as -trees, walking.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Suddenly he got up and moved a photograph -of Dick Carey that stood upon his writing-table, -moved it to an inconspicuous place on -the mantelshelf amongst other photographs. -Then he hesitated for a moment before he took -one of the others and put it on the writing-table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And this simple action meant that Roger -North had put on one side his shrinking from -the intangible and invisible and had started on -new investigations with new instruments for -observation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then he went back to his chair and began a -second orange. Mansfield had just carried out -the croquet mallets and balls, and was arranging -for the afternoon games in his usual admirable -manner. North watched him lazily as -he sucked the orange, pleasantly conscious that -a new interest had gripped his life, his mind -already busy, tabulating, arranging the different -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>subtler matter he proposed to work with.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was here the door opened, and with the -little clatter and bustle which always heralded -her approach, his wife entered, curled, powdered -and adorned, very pretty and very smart, -for her afternoon party.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A visit from her at this moment was altogether -unexpected. It was also unfortunate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It is doubtful if much had depended on it, -whether Mrs. North could have helped some -expression of her objection to orange-sucking -when indulged in by her husband. She came to -an abrupt halt in the doorway and looked much -as if there was a bad smell under her nose.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was an unpleasant pause. North, inwardly -fumed, continued to suck his orange. -He had, it is to be feared, the most complete -contempt for his wife’s opinion on all subjects, -and it irritated him to feel that she had nevertheless, -at times, a power which, it must be -confessed, she had used unmercifully in the -early days of their married life, to make him -feel uncomfortable.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Finally he flung the orange at the wastepaper -basket, missed his aim, and it landed, the gaping -hole uppermost, in the centre of the hearth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If you want to speak to me,” he said irritably, -“you had better come and sit down. On -the other hand, if you do not like my sucking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>an orange, you might have gone away till I -had finished.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I didn’t say anything,” said Mrs. North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She skirted the offending orange skin carefully -and arranged the fluffy curls at the back -of her neck in front of the glass. Then she sat -down and arranged the lace in front of her -frock.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I can’t think why you are always so disagreeable -now,” she complained at length. -“You used to be so fond of me once.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>By this time the atmosphere was electric -with irritation. A more inopportune moment -for such an appeal could hardly have been -chosen.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t suppose you have dressed early to -come down and tell me that,” said North. It -was not nice of him, and he knew it was not nice, -but for the life of him he could not help it. Indeed -it was only by a superhuman effort that -his answer had not verged on the brutal.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I came to talk to you about Violet, but it’s -so impossible to talk to you about anything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why try?” interposed North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I suppose you take some interest in your -own child?” retorted Mrs. North. “I daresay -you have not noticed it, but she is looking -wretchedly ill.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North relapsed into silence and continued to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>watch Mansfield’s preparation on the lawn.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<em>Have</em> you noticed it?” asked his wife, her -voice shrill now with exasperation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” said North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Very well then, why can’t you take some -interest? Why can’t you ever talk things over -with me like other husbands do with their wives? -And it isn’t only that she looks ill; she’s altered—she -isn’t the same girl she was even a year -ago. And people remark on it. She isn’t popular -like she used to be. People seem afraid -of her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had secured North’s attention now. The -drawn lines on his face deepened. There was -anxiety as well as irritation in his glances.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Have you spoken to her? Tried to find out -what is wrong?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” said Mrs. North. “At least I have -<em>tried</em>, but it’s impossible to get anything out of -her. It’s like talking to a stranger. Really, -sometimes I’m frightened of her. It sounds -ridiculous, of course, but there it is. And we -used to be such good friends and tell each other -everything.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am afraid she has never really got over -Dick’s death,” said North, his manner appreciably -gentler. “And possibly her marriage -so soon after was not the wisest thing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>“You approved of it quite as much as I -did.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly. I am not in any sense blaming -you. Besides, Violet did not ask either our -advice or our approval. My meaning rather -is, that possibly she is paying now for what -I own seemed to me at the time a quite amazing -courage.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She confided in you all that dreadful time -far more than she did in me,” said Mrs. North -fretfully, and with her pitiful inability to meet -her husband when his natural kindness of heart -or sense of duty moved him to try to discuss -things of mutual interest with her in a friendly -spirit. “If you had not taken her away from -me then, it might have been different.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North shrugged his shoulders, and returned -to his contemplation of the croquet lawn and -Mansfield’s preparations. Violet had never -from her babyhood been anything but a bone -of contention, unless he had been content never -to interfere or express opinions contrary to his -wife’s.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What do you want me to do?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Only show some natural interest in your -own child,” she retorted. “But you never can -talk anything over without being irritable. -And as to her marriage with Fred, we were -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>all agreed it was an excellent thing. Of course -if you haven’t noticed how altered she is, it’s -no good my telling you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have noticed it,” said North shortly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, what do you think we had better do?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You really want my opinion?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North had said this before over other matters. -He wrestled with the futility of saying it over -this. But he knew that his wife was a devoted, -if sometimes an unwise, mother, and he -had on the whole been very generous to her with -regard to their only child. He sympathized -with her now in her anxiety.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course I do,” she responded. “Isn’t it -what I’ve been saying all this time?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then honestly I don’t see what either you -or I can do but stand by. She knows we’re -there right enough, both of us. She can depend -on Fred too, she knows that. But it seems to -me that until she comes to us we’ve got to leave -her alone to fight out whatever the trouble is -in her own way. I think you are right—there -<em>is</em> trouble. But we can’t force her confidence -and we should do no good if we did. I’m afraid -you won’t think that much help.” He looked at -her with some kindness. “But I believe it is -quite sound advice.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s dreadful to feel like a stranger with -one’s own child,” complained Mrs. North. “It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>makes me perfectly miserable. Of course I -don’t think a father feels the same as a -mother.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>A shadow fell across the strip of sunlight -coming in from the window. A gay voice broke -the sequence of her complaint.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, <em>here</em> you are!” it said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Both of them looked up hastily, almost guiltily. -Violet Riversley stood on the gravel pathway -outside. A gay and gallant figure, slim -and straight in her favourite white. The sun -shone on the smooth coiled satin of her dark -hair, on the whiteness of her wonderful skin. -Her golden eyes danced as she crossed the step -of the French window.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I felt in my bones you would be having a -party this afternoon,” she said. “So I put -Fred and myself into the car, and here we are!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked from one to the other and they -looked at her, momentarily bereft of speech. -For here was the old Violet, gay with over-brimming -life and mirth, the beautiful irresistible -hoyden of the days before the war, before -Dick Carey had died, suddenly back again as -it were. And now, and now only, did either -of them realize to the full the difference between -her and the Violet they had just been discussing.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is the matter with you both?” she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>cried. “You look as if you were plotting dark -and desperate deeds! And Mansfield is nearly -in tears under the beech-tree because he can’t -arrange the chairs to his satisfaction without -you.” She looked at her mother. “He says”—she -looked at her father and bubbled with -mirth—“the trenches have spoilt his sense -of the artistic! And he says he is a champion -at croquet now himself. He won all the competitions -at V.A.D. hospital. Do you think -we ought to ask him to play this afternoon?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear Violet——” began Mrs. North, -smitten by the horror of the suggestion.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Look here, Vi,” said North. On a sudden -impulse he put his long legs down from his deck-chair, -sat erect, and swept her gay badinage -aside. “We were talking about you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Me!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She bent her straight black brows at him, a -shadow swept over her brilliance, she shivered -a little.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I suppose I have been pretty poisonous to -you lately.” She meditated for a moment. -Then her old irresistible mischievous smile -shone out. “But it’s nothing to what I’ve been -to poor Fred.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She ran her lithe fingers through North’s -grizzled hair and became serious again.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>“Dad and Mums, darlings, I don’t know -what’s been the matter with me—but I’ve been -in hell. I woke up this morning and felt like -Shuna-something’s daughter when the devil -was driven out of her. And I got up and -danced round the room in my nighty, because -the old world was beautiful again and I didn’t -hate everything and everybody. And don’t -talk to me about what I’ve been like, darlings—I -don’t want to think of it. All I know is, -it’s gone, and if it ever comes back——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped and repeated slowly:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If it ever comes back——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her slim erect figure shivered, as a rod of -steel shivers driven by electric force.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she flung up a defiant hand and laughed. -The gay light laughter of the old Violet. “But I -won’t let it! Never again! Never, never, -never! Mums, come out and wrestle with -Mansfield’s lost artistic sense.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She lifted Mrs. North, protesting shrilly, -bodily out of her chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear Violet! Don’t! Oh, my hat!” -she cried, and retreated, like a ruffled bird, to -the looking-glass over the mantelshelf to rearrange -her plumage.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet seized her father by both hands and -pulled him too out of his chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“Come and play a game of croquet with me -before the guests come, Herr Professor,” she -said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was her old name for him in the days when -Karl von Schäde had brought many German -expressions and titles into their midst. It -struck North with a curious little unpleasant -shock.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why have you put poor Dick’s photo up -here?” asked his wife.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh, do leave my things alone!” exclaimed -North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His wife’s capacity for discovering and inquiring -into any little thing he did not want -to explain was phenomenal. It irritated him to -see her pick up the frame. It irritated him -that she would always speak of his dead friend -as “poor Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The atmosphere disturbed by Violet’s sudden -radiant entrance became once more charged -with electric irritation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. North put down the frame with a little -click.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I thought it was some mistake of the servant’s,” -she said stiffly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet pulled her father out of the French -window. “Come, we have only time for half a -game now,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. North followed.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>“Your Miss Seer is coming this afternoon, -Roger,” she said. “I do hope you won’t talk -to no one else, if you intend to appear at all. -It looks so bad, and only makes everyone talk!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>With which parting shot she retreated towards -Mansfield and the chairs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet slipped her arm through her father’s -as they crossed the lawn. “She can’t help it, -daddy,” she said soothingly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North laughed, a short mirthless laugh.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I suppose not. Go ahead, Vi. I’ll take -blue.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They buried themselves in the game after -the complete and concentrated manner of the -real croquet player. Both were above the average, -and it was an infinite relief to North to -find Violet taking her old absorbing interest in -his defeat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Presently Fred Riversley wandered out and -stood watching them, stolid and heavy as usual, -but his nod to North held meaning, and a great -content. North was beginning to like this -rather dull young man in a way he would once -have thought impossible. He had been the -plainest, the least attractive, and the least interesting -of the group of brilliant children who -had grown up in such a bewilderingly sudden -way, almost, it seemed, on the declaration of -war, and of whom so few were left. North’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>mind drifted back to those days which seemed -so long ago, another lifetime, to those gay glad -children who had centred round his friend and -so been part of his own life. And then a sudden -nostalgia seized him, a sick sense of the purposeless -horror of life. And you cared—really -cared—if you made a bad shot at croquet, or -if your wife objected to your sucking oranges. -Mansfield, who had faced death by torture minute -after minute out there, was worried because -he could not arrange the chairs at a tennis -party. And those boys and the girl, little Sybil -Rawson, were all broken up, smashed out of -existence, finished. They had not even left any -other boys and girls of their own behind; they -were some of nature’s waste.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He missed his shot, and Violet gave a cry -of triumph. It gave the game into her hands. -She went out with a few pretty finish -shots.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not up to your usual mark that, sir!” said -Riversley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” said North. “It was a rotten shot!” -And he <em>did</em> care. He was annoyed with himself. -“Rotten!” he said, and played the stroke -over again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Absolutely unworthy!” laughed his daughter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She put out first one and then the other of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>her balls with deft precision and waved her -mallet to an approaching car.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Here are the Condors,” she said. “And -Condie himself! I haven’t seen him for ages, -the old dear!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She skimmed the lawn like a bird towards -the front door.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mansfield was tenderly assisting an enormously -stout gentleman to get out of the car -backwards.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Excellent, bombardier!” said the stout -gentleman. “Excellent. You have let me -down without a single twinge. Now they put -my man into the motor transport. Most unfortunate -for me. The knowledge of how to -handle a live bomb would have been invaluable.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He heaved slowly round in time to receive -Violet Riversley’s enthusiastic welcome. His -face was very round and full, the features, in -themselves good, partially buried in many rolls -of flesh, the whole aspect one of benign good -nature. Only an occasional penetrating flash -from under his heavy eyelids revealed the keen -intelligence which had given him no small reputation -in the political world.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, little Vi! It’s pleasant to see you -again,” he said. “How are you, North?” -His voice was soft and thick, but had the beauty -of perfect pronunciation.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>It was the only sound ever known to check -his wife’s amazing flow of conversation. She -owned herself that it had been difficult, but she -had recognized the necessity early in their married -life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You see, no one wanted to hear me talk if -they could hear him,” she explained. “Now it -has become a habit. Condor has only to say -‘Ah!’ and I stop like an automaton.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>At this moment she was following him from -the car amid the usual shower of various belongings. -Violet and her husband assisted her -while North and Mansfield gathered up the -débris.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, my dears, we have been to a meeting -as usual. Natural—I mean National Economy. -Condor made a really admirable speech, recommending -impossible things; excellent, of course—only -impossible! My glasses? Thank you, -Roger. Yes, isn’t the car shabby? I am so -thankful. A new Rolls-Royce has such a painfully -rich appearance, hasn’t it? And the old -ones go just as well, if not better. That scarf? -Um—yes—perhaps I will want it. Let us put -it into Condor’s pocket. A little more padding -makes no difference to him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“When I was younger it used to be my privilege -and pleasure to pick up these little odds -and ends for my wife,” said Lord Condor, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>smiling good-naturedly, while his wife stuffed -the scarf into his pocket. “But alas! my figure -no longer permits.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I remember my engagement was a most trying -time,” said Lady Condor. “My dear -mother impressed on me that if Condor once -realized the irritation my untidiness and habit -of dropping my things about would cause him -in our married life, he would break it off. -What, Vi? Oh, damn the thing!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet Riversley, holding a gold bag which -had mysteriously dropped from somewhere, -went off into a helpless fit of laughter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Don’t laugh, my dear. It is nothing to -laugh at. I do hope Mansfield did not hear! -One catches these bad habits, but I have not -taken to swearing. I do not approve of it for -women—or of smoking—do I, Condor? But -that wretched bag has spoilt my whole afternoon; -that is the fifth time it has been handed -to me. I could not really enjoy Condor’s -speech. Quite admirable—only no one could -possibly do the things he recommended. But -where was I? Oh yes—the bag—you see, I -bought it at Asprey’s! You know, in Bond -Street—yes. There was a whole window full -of them. How should it strike one that they -were luxuries, and that the scarcity of gold -was so great? One has got quite used to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>paper money by now. And somehow it never -seems so valuable as real sovereigns. I am sure -our extravagance is due to this. It’s nearly as -bad as paying by cheque. But where was I? -Oh, my bag! You see, we all went to this meeting -to patronize National Economy. Most necessary, -Condor says, and we must all do our best. -But it really would have been better, I think, -if we had not all gone in our cars and taken our -gold bags. Everyone seemed to have a gold -bag—and aigrettes on their heads. I never -wear them myself. The poor birds—I couldn’t. -But I know they cost pounds and pounds, and -no one could call them necessities. Or the gold -bags of course, if gold is so very scarce. Ought -we to send them to be melted down? I will -gladly send mine into the lower regions. Just -as we were entering it plopped down on the step, -and you can imagine the noise it made, and a -quite poor-looking man picked it up and gave -it back to me. He had on one of the dreadful-looking -suits, you know, that they gave our -poor dear men when they were demobilized. -He was most pleasant, but what must he have -thought? And I could not explain to him about -the shop window-full because Condor was waiting -for me. And then, on the platform, just -as Condor was making one of his most telling -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>points, it <em>clanged</em> down off my lap, and of -course it fell just where there was no carpet. -I tried to kick it under the chair, but little Mr. -Peckham—you know him, dear—would jump up -and make quite a show of it, handing it back to -me. No, don’t give it me again. Put it into -Condor’s pocket. But he has gone! To see -the pigs with Roger? Isn’t it wonderful the -attraction pigs have for men of a certain age! -My dear father was just the same, and he called -his pigs after us—or was it us after the pigs?—I -don’t quite remember which. And where is -your mother? Oh, I see—playing croquet with -Mrs. Ingram. My dear, did you ever see such -a hat! Like a plate of petrified porridge, isn’t -it? No, tell your mother not to come. I will -just wave my hand. Go and tell her not to stop -her game, dear Violet. And here is Arthur! -He has something important to tell me—I know -by his walk. Now let us get comfortable first, -and where we shall not be disturbed. Yes. -Those two chairs over there.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do want a little chat if possible, Marion,” -said Mr. Fothersley. He retrieved a scarf -which had floated suddenly across his path, with -the skill born of long practice. “Yes, I will -keep it in case you feel cold.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He folded it in a neat square so that it could -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>go into his pocket without damage to either -scarf or pocket, and held the back of her chair -while she fitted herself into it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A footstool? Thank you, Arthur. I will -say for Nita, she understands the art of making -her guests comfortable. Now at the Howles’ -yesterday I had a chair nearly impossible to get -into and quite impossible to get out of! But -where were we? Oh yes—you have got something -you want to tell me. I always know by -your walk.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley was a little vexed. “I cannot -see how it can possibly affect my walk, -Marion.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is odd, isn’t it?” said her Ladyship -briskly. “It is just like my dear father. A -piece of news was written all over him until -he got rid of it. I remember when poor George -Somerville shot himself—my dear mother and -I were sitting on the terrace, and we saw my -father coming up from the village—quite a long -way off—you could not distinguish a feature—but -we knew at once he was bringing news—news -of importance. But where were we?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped suddenly and looked at him with -the smile which had turned the heads of half -the gilded youth of fifty years ago.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am a garrulous old woman, my dear -Arthur. You are anxious about something, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>and here am I worrying you with my silly -reminiscences—yes—now what is it? Tell me -all about it, and we will see what can be done.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am certainly perturbed,” said Mr. Fothersley. -He smoothed down his delicate grey -waistcoat and settled himself back in his chair. -“I am afraid there is no doubt Nita is becoming -jealous of Miss Seer.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Good heavens! I would as soon suspect -that blue iris!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Quite so! Quite so! But you know what -Nita is about these things. And, unfortunately, -it appears that Roger has been over to Thorpe -once or twice alone lately.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Perfectly natural,” said her Ladyship judicially. -“He would be interested in the farm -for Dick’s sake. I like to go there myself. She -hasn’t spoilt the place.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nita called her ‘that woman’ to me just -now,” said Mr. Fothersley solemnly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lady Condor raised her hand. “That settles -it, of course! And now, dear Arthur, what is -to be done? We really cannot have one of -those dreadful performances that have unfortunately -occurred in the past!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I really don’t know,” said Mr. Fothersley. -He was divided between excitement and distress. -“It is quite useless to talk to either of -them. Nita generally consults me, but she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>listens neither to reason nor advice. And -Roger only laughs or loses his temper.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes,” agreed Lady Condor. “I think it -depends on the state of his liver. And as for -poor Nita listening to reason on that subject—well—as -you say!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If only she would not tell everybody it -would not be so terrible.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, that is just the little touch of bourgeois,” -said Lady Condor. “It was wine, -wasn’t it? Or was it something dried? And -poor dear Roger is really so safe—yes—he -would be terribly bored with a real <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">affair de -cœur</span></i>. He would forget any woman for weeks if -he were arranging a combination of elements to -see if they would blow each other up. And if -the poor woman made a scene, or uttered a -word of reproach even, he would be off for -good and all—pouf—just like that. And what -good is that to any woman? I have told Nita -so, but it is no good—no! Now if she had -been married to Condor! Poor darling, he is -perfectly helpless in the hands of anything -in petticoats! It is not his fault. It is temperament, -you know. All the Hawkhursts -have very inflammable dispositions. And when -he was younger, women were so silly about -him! I used to pretend not to know, and I was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>always charming to them all. It worked admirably.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I always admired your dignity, dear -Marion,” said Mr. Fothersley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<em>We</em> have always shielded our men,” said -Lady Condor, and she looked a very great lady -indeed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Our day is passing,” said Mr. Fothersley -sadly. “I deplore it very much. Very much -indeed.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Fortunately”—Lady Condor pursued her -reminiscences—“Condor has a sense of humour, -which always prevented him making himself -really ridiculous: that would have worried me. -A man running round a woman looking like an -amorous sheep! Where are my glasses, -Arthur? And who is that girl over there, all -legs and neck? Of course the present style -of dress has its advantages—one has nothing -on to lose. But where was I? Something -about sheep? Oh yes, dear Condor. I have -always been so thankful that when he lost his -figure—he had a very fine figure as a young -man you remember—he gave up all that sort -of thing. You <em>must</em>, of course, if you have any -sense of the ridiculous. But about Roger and -Miss Seer. She is a woman with dignity. Now -where can she have got it from? She seems -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>to have been brought up between an orphan -clergy school and some shop—was it old furniture?—something -old I know. Not clothes—no—but -something old. And some one said she -had been a cook. But one can be anything these -days.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She is of gentle birth,” said Mr. Fothersley. -“Her mother, I gather, was a Courthope, and -the Seers seem to be quite good people—Irish -I believe—but of good blood. It always tells.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You never know which way,” said her Ladyship -sagely. “Now look at my Uncle Marcus. -Oh, there <em>is</em> Miss Seer. Yes—I really don’t -think we need worry. It would be difficult to -be rude to her. There, you see—dear Nita is -being quite nice! And Roger is quite safe with -Condor and the pigs.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was indeed late in the afternoon before -North came upon Ruth, watching a set of tennis.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t play?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I never had the chance to learn any of the -usual things,” she said, smiling. “I’m afraid -I only came to-day with an ulterior motive. I -want you to show me a photograph of Dick -Carey.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That, oddly enough, was also in my mind,” -he said, smiling too. “Come into my study and -find it for yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was conscious of a little pleasant excitement -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>as they went, and also of a curious uncertainty -as to whether he wanted the experiment -to succeed or not.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth went in front of him through the French -window and stood for a while looking round her. -She was not a slow woman, but nothing she did -ever seemed hurried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What a delicious room!” she said. “And -what a glory of books! And I do like the way -you have your writing-table. How much better -than across the window, and yet you get all the -light. I may poke about?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She moved the writing-table and picked up -a quaint letter-weight with interest. The photograph -she ignored.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I love your writing-chair,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It was my grandfather’s. The only bit I -have of his. My parents cleared out the whole -lot when they married—too awful, wasn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But your books are wonderful! Surely you -have many first editions here. Old Raphael -would have loved them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The best of my first editions are on the right -of the fireplace.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She turned, and then suddenly her face lit. -Lit up curiously, as if there were a light behind -it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!” she said quite softly, then crossed to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>the fireplace and stood looking at the photograph -he had moved that afternoon from the writing-table.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She did not pick it up or touch it; only looked -at it with wide eyes for quite a long time.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she turned to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is the man I saw,” she said. “Now -will you believe?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And at that moment the Horizon beyond -Eternity did indeed approach closer, approach -into the realm of the possible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He admitted nothing, and she did not press it. -She sat down in the big armchair on the small -corner left by Larry, who was curled up in it -asleep. He shifted a little to make more room -for her and laid a gentle feathered paw upon -her knee.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That’s odd,” said North. “He won’t let -anyone else come near my chair when he’s in -it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He knows I’m a link,” said Ruth, smiling. -“I wish you could look on me as that too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I do—but for purposes of research only. -You mustn’t drive me too quickly.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I won’t. Indeed I won’t.” She spoke with -the earnestness of a child who has asked a -favour. “I only want you just not to shut it -all out.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m interested, and that is as far as I can -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>go at present. I wondered if you would care -to read a bit of Dick’s diary which I have here. -It came to me with other papers, and there are -some letters here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Oh!” The exclamation was full of interest -and pleasure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He gave her the small packet, smiling, and -she held it between both her hands for a moment -looking at it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They will be very sacred to me,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He nodded. “One feels like that. It is only -a small portion of a diary. I fancy he kept -one very intermittently. Dick was never a -writer. But the letter about von Schäde will -interest you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth stood with her eyes fixed on the small -packet. “Could you tell me—would you mind—how -it happened?” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A shell fell, burying some of his men. He -went to help dig them out. Another shell fell -on the same place. That was the end.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked up. Her eyes shone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He was saving life, not taking it. Oh, I -am glad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She put the packet into the pocket of her linen -skirt, gave him a little smile, and slipped away -almost as a wraith might slip. She wanted, -suddenly and overpoweringly, to get back to -Thorpe....</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>Lady Condor, enjoying, as was her frequent -custom, a second tea, said quite suddenly, in -the middle of a lament on the difficulty of obtaining -reliable cosmetics, “That is a clever -woman!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley, who was honestly interested -in cosmetics, tore his mind away from them -and looked round.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Who?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Seer. I have been watching, after -what you told me. You have not noticed? She -has been in Roger’s study with him, only about -ten minutes—yes—but she has done it without -Nita knowing. Look, she is saying good-bye -now. And dear Nita all smiles and quite -pleasant. Nita was playing croquet of course -but even then—— Perhaps it was just luck—but -quite amazing.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Fothersley agreed. “Most fortunate,” -he added.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You know, Arthur, she is not unattractive,” -Lady Condor continued. “By no means -in her <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">première jeunesse</span></i> and can never have -been a beauty. But there is something cool -and restful-looking about her which some men -might like. You never know, do you? I remember -once Condor was quite infatuated for -a few weeks, with a woman rather in the same -style.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“But I thought you didn’t think——” began -Mr. Fothersley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Of course I don’t think—not really.” Lady -Condor watched Ruth’s farewells through her -glasses. “That’s what is so stupid about all -these supposed affairs of Roger’s. There never -is anything in them. So stupid——” She -stopped suddenly and looked sideways at him, -rather the look of a child found with a forbidden -toy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But——” began Mr. Fothersley, and -stopped also.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The two old friends looked at each other.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Arthur,” said Lady Condor. “I believe -you are as bad as I am. Yes—don’t deny it. -I saw the guilt in your eyes. So funny—just as -I discovered my own. But so nice—we can be -quite honest with each other.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear Marion—I don’t——” Mr. Fothersley -began to protest.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dear Arthur, yes—you do. We both of us -enjoy—yes—where are my glasses? What a -mercy you did not tread on them. But where -was I? Yes. We both of us enjoy these little -excitements. Positively”—her shrewd old face -lighted up with mischief—“positively I believe -we miss it when Roger is not supposed to -be carrying on with somebody. I discovered -it in a flash just this very moment! I do hope -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>we don’t really hope there is something in it all -the time. It would be so dreadful of us.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly we do not,” said Mr. Fothersley, -deeply pained but associating himself with her -from long habit. “Most certainly not! I can -assure you my conscience is quite clear. Really, -you are allowing your imagination to run away -with you. We have always done our best to -stop Nita creating these most awkward -situations.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, of course we have,” said Lady Condor -soothingly. “I did not mean that. But now -where is Condor? Oh, he has walked home -across the fields. So good for his figure! I -wish I could do the same for mine. Yes, Nita -has been quite nice to Miss Seer, and now Violet -is seeing her off.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am motoring back to town to-night,” -Violet Riversley was saying as she shut the -door of Ruth Seer’s little two-seater car, “or -I would like to come over to Thorpe. How is -it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Just lovely,” said Ruth, smiling. “Be -sure and come whenever you can.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She had taken off the brakes, put out the -clutch and got into gear before Violet answered. -Then she laid her hand, as with a sudden impulse, -on the side of the car.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If one day I should—quite suddenly—wire -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>to you and ask you to have me to stay—would -you?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why yes, of course,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You might have other visitors—or be -away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I shall not have other visitors, and I -shall not be away.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>The conveyances of other guests had begun to -crowd the drive, and Ruth had to give all her -attention to getting her car out of a gate built -before the day of cars. It was only when she -was running clear, down the long slope from -Fairbridge, that she remembered the curious -and absolute certainty with which she had answered -Violet Riversley’s question.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span> - <h2 id='IX' class='c005'>CHAPTER IX</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>The clouds of a thunderstorm were looming -slowly up as Ruth motored home, and soon -after she got back a sudden deluge swept over -Thorpe. In ten minutes the garden paths were -running with water unable to get into the sun-baked -ground and every hand on the farm was -busy getting young things into shelter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I said we should have rain soon,” announced -Miss McCox, after the triumphant manner of -weather prophets, as she brought in Bertram -Aurelius, busy trying to catch the falling silver -flood with both hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He has never seen rain before to remember. -Think of it!” said Ruth. “And he isn’t a bit -frightened. Where are the other children?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“A little wet, more or less, will do <em>them</em> no -harm,” replied Miss McCox. “They’re more -in the river than out of it, I’m thinking, bringing -in mess and what not.” She handed Bertram -Aurelius, protesting for once vigorously, -through the kitchen window to his mother. -“It’s the young chicken up in the top field I’m -after,” she added.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>Ruth laughed as she picked up Selina’s shivering -little body which was cowering round -her feet, and ran for the river. She liked the -rush of the rain against her face, the eager -thirst of the earth as it drank after the long -drought, the scent of the wet grass. It was all -very good. And if it only lasted long enough, -it would make just all the difference in the world -to the hay crop. The thunder was muttering -along the hill-tops while she rescued the children -from the shelter of a big tree, helped Miss -McCox with the young chicken, and hurriedly -staked some carnations which should have been -done days ago; then she fled for the house, -barely in time to escape the full fury of the -storm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The carnations could have been left,” said -Miss McCox, as she met her at the front door. -“There’s no sense in getting your feet soaked -at your age. I have a hot bath turned on for -you and if you don’t go at once it will be cold.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Bathed, dressed, and glowing with content -of mind and body, Ruth watched the end of -the storm from the parlour window. The big -clouds were drifting heavily, muttering as they -went, down towards the east, the rain still fell, -but softly now, each silver streak shining separately -in the blaze of sunlight from the west -and presently, as Ruth watched, a great rainbow, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>perfect and complete, arched in jewelled -glory the sullen blackness of the retreating -storm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After her dinner she took the packet Roger -North had given her, and sat holding it between -her hands in the big armchair by the window. -The beautiful gracious old room was filling with -the evening shadows, but here the light was -still clear and full. The sunset lingered, -although already the evening star was shining -brightly. Ruth sat there, as Dick Carey must -often have sat after his day’s work, looking -across his pleasant fields, dreaming dreams, -thinking long thoughts, loving the beauty of -it all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Here he must have thought and planned -for the good and welfare of the farm. The -crops and flowers and fruit, the birds and -beasts. And in those last days, of the children -who should come, calling him father, to own -the farm one day, and love it as he had loved -it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Masefield’s beautiful lines passed through -Ruth’s mind:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“If there be any life beyond the grave,</div> - <div class='line'>It must be near the men and things we love,</div> - <div class='line'>Some power of quick suggestion how to save,</div> - <div class='line'>Touching the living soul as from above.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>She sat very still; the lamp, symbol of the -Life Eternal, gleamed more brightly as the -shadows deepened. The glow in the west died -away, and the great stars shone with kindly -eyes, just as it must have shone on Dick Carey, -sitting there dreaming too, loving the beauty -of it all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And presently Ruth became conscious of -other things. Curious and poignantly there -grew around her, out of the very heart of the -stillness, the sense of a great movement of -men and things, the clash of warring instincts, -an atmosphere of fierce passions, of hatred and -terror, of tense anxiety, like an overstrained -rod that must surely break, and yet holds. A -terrible tension of waiting for something—something -that was coming—coming—something -that fell. She knew where she was now; -for, through all the drenched sweetness of the -fields and gardens, sickening, suffocating, -deadly, came the smell of the Great Battlefields -of the world. All of it was there—the -sweat of men, the sour atmosphere of bivouac -and dug-out, rotten sacking and wood, the fumes -of explosives, the clinging horror of gas, -the smell of the unattended death. It was all -there, in one hideous whole. Shuddering, -clutching the letters tightly with clenched hands -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>in her lap, Ruth was back there again; again -she was an atom in some awful scheme, again -she knew the dread approach. The wait.... -Great roaring echoes rolled up and filled all -space. Sounds crashed and shattered, rent and -destroyed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then, through it all, Ruth felt—held it -as it were between the hands of her heart—something -so wonderful it took her breath away, -and she knew it for what it was, through all -the tumult, the horror, and the evil, the strong -determined purpose of a man for a certain -end. It grew and grew, in wonder and in -glory, until her heart could no longer hold it, -could no longer bear it, for it became the strong -determined purpose of many men for a certain -end. It joined and unified into a current of -living light and fire, and sang as it flowed, sang -so that the sounds of horror passed and -fled and the melody of its flowing filled all space, -the sound of the great Song of the Return.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was no longer a lonely atom in a scheme -she could not understand, no longer a stranger -and a pilgrim in a weary land, but part of -an amazing and stupendous whole, working in -unison, making for an end glorious beyond -conception. Limits of time and space were -wiped out, but when the strange and wonderful -happening had passed over, never then, or at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>any later time, had she any doubt as to the -reality of the experience. She knew and understood, -though, with the Apostle of old, she could -have said, “Whether in the body or out of the -body I cannot tell.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But suddenly the body claimed her again, and -Ruth Seer did what was a very unusual thing -with her—she put her face between her hands -and cried and cried till they were wet with tears, -her whole being shaken as by the passing of a -great wind.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When, some time later, she opened the packet -she found the few pages of diary much what -she had somehow expected. Just the short -notes of a man pressed for every minute of -his time, because every minute not given to -definite duty was spent with, or for, his men. -His love and care for them were in every line -of those hasty scraps of writing, kept principally, -it seemed to Ruth, so that nothing for -each one might be forgotten. It was that personal -touch that struck her most forcibly. Not -one of his men had a private trouble but he -knew it and took steps to help, not one was missing -but he headed the search party if prior -duties did not prevent, not one died without him -if it were in any way possible for him to be -there. That lean brown hand which she knew—had -seen—what a sure thing it had been to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>hold. From the little hastily scribbled scraps it -could be pieced together. That wonderful life -which he, and many another, had led in the -midst of hell. The light was fading when she -took the letter out of its thin unstamped envelope, -but Dick Carey’s writing was very clear, -each word somewhat unusually far apart.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c009'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>Dear old Roger</span> (it ran),—</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c010'>“We have been badly knocked about, and are -here to refit. Seven of our officers killed and four -wounded; 348 out of 726 men killed and wounded—some -horribly maimed—my poor fellows. This is -butchery, not war. The Colonel was wounded early -in the day and I was in command. Kelsey is gone, -and Marriott, and little Kennedy, of those you knew. -Writing to mothers and wives is hard work. You -might go and see Mrs. Kelsey. She would like it. I -have not a scratch and am well, but the damnable -horror of this war is past belief. I have told Vi as -little as possible, and nothing of the following. Poor -von Schäde was brought into our lines, strangely -enough, last evening, terribly mutilated. They had -to amputate both legs and right arm at the clearing -station. I managed to get down after things were -over to see him. But he was still unconscious. We -are in a ruined château on the right of —— Forest. -There is a lake in which we can bathe—a godsend.</p> - -<p class='c010'>“Just midnight; and while I write a nightingale is -singing. It goes on though the roar of the guns is -echoing through the forest like a great sigh, and even -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>the crash of an occasional shell does not disturb it. -I suppose born and bred to it. My God, what -wouldn’t I give to wake up and hear the nightingales -singing to the river at Thorpe and find this was only -an evil dream!</p> - -<p class='c010'>“<em>20th.</em> Von Schäde is gone. I was with him at -the end, but it was terrible. I could not leave him -and yet perhaps it would have been better. He -seemed mad with hatred. Poor fellow, one can hardly -wonder. It was not only himself, so mutilated, but -he seemed convinced, certain, that they were beaten. -He cursed England and the English. Me and mine -and Thorpe. Even Vi. It was indescribably horrible. -The evil of this war incarnate as it were——”</p> - -<p class='c011'>The letter broke off, and ended with the -scrawled initials</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r c009'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Yrs., R. C.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>and an undecipherable postscript:</p> - -<p class='c012'>“Don’t tell Vi.”</p> - -<p class='c013'>Had he been called away hurriedly by the -falling shell which had buried his men? The -envelope was addressed in another writing. -She felt it must have been so. Very swiftly he -had followed the man who had died cursing -him and his, out into the world where thought -and emotion, unclogged by this physical matter, -are so much the more powerful and uncontrolled. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>Had they met, these two strong spirits, moving -on different lines of force, working for different -ends? What had been let loose when Karl -von Schäde had died in that British clearing -station, cursing “England and the English, -me and mine and Thorpe. Even Vi.” The -great emotional forces, so much greater than -the physical body which imprisons them, what -power was there when freed; this hatred in a -man of great and cultivated intellect, whose -aim had been no mean or contemptible thing, -whose aim had been power, what was that force -on the other side of death? How much could -it accomplish if, with added knowledge, it so -willed?</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth shivered in the warm June night. A -sense of danger to the farm stole over her. A -warning of something sinister, impending, -brooding, as the great thunder-cloud had loomed -up before it burst. She stepped out over the low -window-ledge on to the terrace, looked across -the sleeping beauty before her. Still she held -the papers in her hand. A glimmering moon -was rising behind the trees, a little faint wind -whispered among the leaves. They made black -patterns on the silvered grass as it moved them -very gently. The wind fell, and with it a great -stillness. And out of the stillness came to Ruth -Seer a Word.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>She went back into the sitting-room, dark -now except for the light of the little lamp, and -knelt before it, and prayed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And her prayer was just all the love and -the pity she could gather into her heart for the -strong spirit that had gone out black, and bitter, -and tortured, and filled with hate. The spirit -that had been Karl von Schäde.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span> - <h2 id='X' class='c005'>CHAPTER X</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>Thorpe was rich with the autumn yield -before Violet Riversley claimed Ruth’s -promise. July had been on the whole a wet -month, providing however much-needed rain, -but the August and September of Peace Year -were glorious as the late spring, and at Thorpe -an abundant harvest of corn was stored by -the great stacks of scented hay. The apple and -pear trees were heavy with fruit. Blenheim -Orange and Ribston Pippin with red cheeks -polished by much sun; long luscious Jargonelles -and Doyenne du Comice pears gleamed yellow -and russet. The damson-trees showed purple -black amid gold and crimson plums. Mulberry -and quince and filbert, every fruit gave lavishly -and in full perfection that wonderful autumn; -and all were there. Dick Carey had seen to -that. The Blackwall children came and went, -made hay, picked fruit and reaped corn, as -children should. They gathered blackberries -and mushrooms and hazel nuts, and helped Ruth -to store apples and pears, and Miss McCox to -make much jam. Bertram Aurelius got on his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>feet and began to walk, to the huge joy of Sarah -and Selina. The world was a pleasant place. -Ruth moved among her children and animals -and fruit and flowers, and listened to her nightingales, -amid no alien corn, and sang the song -old Raphael Goltz had taught her long ago, in -a content so great and perfect that sometimes -she felt almost afraid that she would wake up -one morning and and it all a dream.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It’s just like a fairy-tale that all this should -come to me,” she said to Roger North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The cottages were finished and tenanted, -their gardens stored and stocked with vegetables -and fruit trees, and bright with autumn -flowers, from the Thorpe garden. Even Mr. -Fothersley was reconciled to their existence.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth had been to no more parties; the days -at home were too wonderful. She garnered -each into her store as a precious gift. But the -neighbours liked to drop in and potter round -or sit on the terrace. The place was undoubtedly -amazingly beautiful and perfect in its way. -The friendliness and trust of all that lived and -moved at Thorpe appealed even to the unreceptive. -Here there were white pigeons that fluttered -round your head and about your feet. -Unafraid, bright-eyed tiny beautiful birds came -close, so that you made real acquaintance with -those creatures of the blue sky, the leaf and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>sunlight. So timid always of their hereditary -enemy through the ages, yet here the bolder -spirits would almost feed from your hand. -Their charm of swift movement, of sudden -wings, seen so near, surprised and delighted. -Their bright eager eyes looked at you as -friends. The calves running with their -mothers in the fields rubbed rough silken foreheads -against you; and gentle velvet-nosed -cart-horses came to you over the gates asking -for apples. The children showed you their -quaint treasures, their little play homes in the -trees and by the river. In their wood the -Michaelmas daisies, mauve and white and purple, -were making a brave show, and scarlet -poppies, bad farmers but good beauties, bordered -the pale gold stubble fields. Everywhere -was the fragrant pungent scent of autumn and -the glory of fruitful old Mother Earth yielding -of her wondrous store to those who love her -and work for it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey was fond of coming, and, still -undaunted, made Ruth fresh offers to buy -Thorpe.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You’ve got the pick of the soil here,” he -complained. “Now I’ve not a rose in my place -to touch those Rayon d’Or of yours. Second -crop too! And ain’t for want of the best -manure, or choosing the right aspect. My -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>man knows what he’s about too. Better than -yours does, I reckon. He was head man to the -Duke of Richborough, so he ought to.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth’s eyes twinkled.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Try giving them away,” she suggested.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Givin’ ’em away!” Mr. Pithey glared at -her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Giving them away,” repeated Ruth firmly. -“Now sit down here while I tell you all about -it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth herself was sitting on a heap of stubble -by the side of the corn field, with little Moira -Kent tucked close to her side.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey had one of his little girls with him, -and both were dressed as usual in new and expensive -clothing. They looked at Ruth’s heap -of stubble with evident suspicion, then the -child advanced a step towards her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Are you going to tell us a story?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled. “If you like I will,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The child’s rather commonplace pert little -face broke into an answering smile. She took -out a very fine lace-bordered handkerchief and -spread it carefully on the ground. Then she -sat down on it with her legs sticking out in front -of her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey resigned himself to the inevitable, -and let his well-groomed heavy body gingerly -down too. During the wet weather of July -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>the little blue-faced lady had contracted pneumonia -and very nearly died. Racked with -anxiety, for family ties were dear to him, Mr. -Pithey’s inflation and self-importance had failed -him, and between him and Ruth a queer friendship -had arisen.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She cared—she really cared,” he explained -afterward to his wife.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So Mr. Pithey showed himself to Ruth at his -best, and though perhaps it was not a very -handsome best, the direct result was a row of -cottages as a thank-offering.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Once upon a time,” began Ruth, “there was -a little Earth Elemental who had made the most -beautiful flower in all the world, or at least it -thought it was the most beautiful, so of course, -for it, it <em>was</em>.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is an Earth Elemental?” asked Elaine -Pithey.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The Earth Elementals are the fairies who -help make the plants and flowers.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We don’t believe in fairies,” said Elaine -primly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She’s a bit beyond that sort of stuff,” added -Mr. Pithey, looking at the small replica of himself -with pride.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Some people don’t,” answered Ruth politely, -watching the little blue butterflies among -the pale gold stubble, with lazy eyes. Almost -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>she heard echoes of elfin laughter, high and -sweet.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ve seen them,” Moira broke out very suddenly -and to Ruth’s astonishment. That Moira -“saw” things she had little doubt, but even -to her the little lady was reticent. Something -in the Puritan self-complacence had apparently -roused her in defence of her inner world.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What are they like then?” asked Elaine, -supercilious still, but with an undercurrent of -excitement plainly visible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They’re different,” said Moira. “Some are -like humming-birds, only they’ve colours, not -feathers, and some are like sweet-peas made of -starlight. But some of them are just green and -brown—very soft.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We took first prize for our sweet-peas at -the flower show,” announced Elaine suddenly -and aggressively.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“As big again as any other exhibit they -were,” said Mr. Pithey, dusting the front of his -white waistcoat proudly. “You may beat us in -roses, but our sweet-peas are bigger, I’ll lay -half a crown.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why don’t I see fairies any way, if you -do?” asked Elaine, returning to the attack now -she had asserted her superiority. But Moira -had withdrawn into herself, bitterly repentant -of her revelation.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>“Have you ever looked through a microscope?” -Ruth asked, putting a sheltering arm -round the small figure beside her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Elaine looked at her suspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You mean there’s plenty I can’t see,” she -said shrewdly. “But why don’t I see fairies -if she does?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled. “I am afraid as a rule they -avoid us as much as possible. You see, we -human beings mostly kill and torture and destroy -all the things they love best.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth pointed to the tightly held bunch of -dying flowers in the child’s hand.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“They’re only common poppies!” said Elaine -contemptuously.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth took them from her, and, turning back -the sheath of one of the dying buds, looked at -the perfect silken lining of it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Some one took a lot of trouble over making -that,” she said. “But suppose you listen to -my story.” Moira’s small hot hand crept into -hers, and she began again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There was once a little Earth Elemental -who had made the most beautiful flower in the -world. I think it was a crimson rose, and it -had all the summer in its scent. And the little -Elemental wondered if it was beautiful enough -for the highest prize of all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>“At Battersea Flower Show?” asked Elaine.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No. The highest prize in the world of the -Elementals is to serve. And one day a child -came and cut the rose very carefully with a -pair of scissors, and the Elemental was sad, -for it had made the flower its home and loved -it very much. But the child whispered to the -rose that it was going into one of the dark places -which men had made in the world, with no sunshine, -or summer, or joy, or beauty, to take -them a message to say that God’s world was -still beautiful, and the sun and stars still shone, -and morning was still full of joy and evening -of peace. Then the Elemental was not sorry -any more, for its rose had won the highest -prize.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Elaine’s Pithian armour had fallen from her; -out of the little pert face looked the soul of a -child. She had lost her self-consciousness for -the moment.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And what became of the Elemental?” she -asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The Elemental did not leave its home then. -It went with it. And when the rose had done its -work and slipped away into the Fountain of -all Beauty, the Elemental slipped away with it -too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where is the Fountain of all Beauty?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“In the Heart of God.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>Elaine looked disappointed. “Then it’s all -an alle—gory, I s’pose.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, it’s quite true, or at least I believe it -is. Mr. Pithey”—Ruth turned on him and her -grave eyes danced—“take a big bunch of your -best roses, a big bunch, mind, down to the Fairbridge -Common Lodging House for Women, -in Darley Street, and tell the Elementals where -you are taking them. It will stir them up no -end to give you better roses.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The Common Lodging House!” Mr. Pithey -was plainly aghast. “Why, they’d think I -was mad, and ’pon my word and honour I -think you are—if you don’t mind my saying -so.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not a bit. I get told that nearly every -day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’ll tell the Elementals, Daddy, and you -can take the roses, and then we’ll see,” announced -Elaine, who had been pondering the -matter.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Pithey regarded her with pride. “Practical -that, eh?” he said. “Well, we’ll think -about it. But you’ll have to come along now or -we’ll be late for tea with mother. And -as to the roses, I’ll beat you yet. Elementals -all nonsense! Dung—good rich dung—that’s -what they want. You wait till next -year.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>He shook hands warmly, and took his large -presence away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth sent Moira home to tea, and wandered -up the hedgerow, singing to her self, while -Sarah and Selina hunted busily. On the terrace -she found Roger North. He looked worn and -ill and bad tempered. It was some time since -he had been to see her. His wife’s jealousy of -Ruth had culminated in a scene and he had a -dread of disturbing the peace of the farm. But -the silliness of the whole thing had irritated -him, and he was worried about Violet on whom -the strange black cloud had descended again -more noticeably than ever. Riversley had gone -to Scotland, writing him a laconic note, “I’m -better away—this is my address if you want -me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He drank his tea for the most part in silence, -and when she had finished hers Ruth left him -and went about her work. North lit his pipe -and sat on smoking, while the two little dogs -fought as usual for the possession of a seat in -his chair, edging each other out. And presently -Bertram Aurelius came staggering out of the -front door and plump down on the ground before -him. His red hair shone like an aureole -round his head and he made queer and pleasant -noises, gazing at North with friendly and evident -recognition. Larry came padding softly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>up from his favourite haunts by the river and -lay watching them with his wistful amber eyes.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank God for the blessed things that don’t -talk,” said North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The deep lines on his face had smoothed out, -his irritation subsided, he no longer felt bad -tempered.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When Ruth came back he smiled at her. -“Thank you, I’m better,” he said. “When I -arrived I wasn’t fit to ‘carry guts to a bear.’ -You know Marryat’s delightful story, of course? -And how is the farm?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Can’t you feel?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stood in the attitude of one listening. -And curiously and strangely there came to -North’s consciousness a something that all his -senses seemed to cognize and contract at once. -It was not a sound, it was not a vision, it was -not a sensation, though it combined all three. -Radiant and sweet and subtle, and white with -glory, it came and went in a flash. Was it only -a minute or eternity?</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What was it?” His own voice sounded -strange in his ears.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled. “You felt it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I felt something. I believe you mesmerized -me, you witch woman.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shook her head. “I couldn’t make anyone -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>feel that if I knew all the arts in the world. -Only yourself can find that for you.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What was it, anyhow?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think”—she paused a moment—“I think -it is getting into the Unity of All.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where does the bad go to?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a moment’s silence between them. -But the world of the farm was alive with sound. -The pigeons’ coo, the call of the cowman to his -herd, the chuckles of the baby, accompanied -by the full evening chorus of birds.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There isn’t any bad in there,” said Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Your farm is bewitched,” said North. “I -might be no older than Bertram Aurelius talking -nonsense like this. Come down to earth, you -foolish woman. There’s a telegraph boy coming -up the drive.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth’s face clouded a little. “I have not -got over the dread of telegrams,” she said. “It -takes one back to those dreadful days——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She shivered as they waited for the boy to -reach them. He whistled as he came, undisturbed -by much clamour from Sarah and Selina; -they were old friends and he knew their ways.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth tore the envelope open, read the telegram, -and handed it to North. “May I come?” -were its three short words, and it was signed -“Violet Riversley.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>“You will have her?” said North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, of course.” Ruth penciled her answer -on the prepaid form and handed it to the boy.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North heaved a sigh of relief. “It’s good -of you. You know she has not been well.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth sat down and pointed to the other chair.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me all you know. It may help.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North told her as well as he could. “It’s -all so indefinite and intangible,” he ended. -“Sometimes I wonder if her mind is affected -in any way. From the shock Dick’s death -was to her you know. That anyone should be -afraid of Vi! It seems ridiculous, remembering -what she was. She <em>isn’t herself</em>. That’s -the only way I can describe it to you. Upon my -word sometimes lately I’ve almost believed -she’s possessed by a devil. But if she comes -here—well, I don’t know why—but I think she -will get all right.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did not answer at first. She sat thinking, -with her elbows on her knees, her face hidden -between her hands.</p> - -<p class='c007'>That sense of danger to the farm had swept -over her again. A warning as of something impending, -brooding; looming up like a great -cloud on the edge of her blue beautiful sky. -Something strange and terrible was coming, -coming into her life and the life of the farm. -And she could not avert it, or refuse to meet -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>it. Whatever it was it had to be met and -fought. Would it be conquered? For it was -strong, terribly strong, and it was helped by -many. And while the moment lasted, Ruth -felt small and frightened and curiously alone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is the matter?” asked Roger North. -His voice was anxious, and when she looked -up she met his eyes full of that pure and honest -friendship which is so good a thing, and so rare, -between man and woman. Just so might he -often have looked at Dick Carey.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She put out her hand to meet his, as a man -might do on a bargain. “We will do our best,” -she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And she knew that <span class='fss'>WE</span> was strong.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span> - <h2 id='XI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XI</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>“Yes, I am quite satisfied with things on -the whole,” said Lady Condor. “Dear -Roger, you need not snort. Of course <em>you</em> are -a pessimist, so nice! One of the lucky people -who never expect anything, so are never disappointed. -Or you always expect everything bad, -is it? and you are never disappointed, because -you think everything is bad! It doesn’t sound -right somehow, but you know what I mean.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Certainly! It is quite clear,” said North, -with commendable gravity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were both calling at Thorpe, one cold -afternoon early in October. Ruth had a big -log fire burning in the grate, in the room which -still seemed to belong to Dick Carey. Its -warmth mingled with the scent from big bowls-full -of late autumn roses, lent a pleasing illusion -of summer. Lady Condor, wonderful to behold -in the very latest thing in early autumn hats, on -which every conceivable variety of dahlia -seemed gathered together, sat by the fire talking -of many things.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“So nice of you to understand!” she exclaimed, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>nodding at North genially. “That is -the charm of talking to some one with brains. -But where was I? Oh yes! I am quite satisfied -with things, because I see the end of this -horrible adoration of money. The Pithians -have far surpassed my wildest hopes. It has -become positively discreditable to be very -wealthy. At last everyone begins to realize how -truly vulgar has been their idea. I have always -resented this kow-towing down to money. It -gets the wrong people in everywhere, and no -wonder the country goes to the dogs, as my poor -dear father used to say. Now why have we -got Dunlop Rancid as our member? Because -he has brains to help govern? Certainly -not! He is our member because his father -made a large fortune in buttons—or was it -bones?—perhaps it was bone buttons. But -something like that. And he subscribed largely -to the party funds, so he represents us, and -when he took me into dinner last week he didn’t -know where King Solomon’s Islands were. Nor -did I! But of course that was different. My -dear”—she looked suddenly at Violet Riversley—“why -on earth don’t you make Fred stand -for Parliament? He has a fund of common -sense which would be invaluable to the country, -and he has only to write a big cheque for the -party funds and there he will be.”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>Violet Riversley was curled—almost crunched—up -in the armchair opposite her Ladyship. -She lifted her head when directly questioned -and laughed a little. It was not a nice laugh. -It fell across the warm sweet-scented room like -a note from a jarred string.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why should one bother?” she said. “The -country is welcome to go to the dogs for all I -care. I’m sorry for the dogs, that’s all.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was a little silence, a sense of discomfort. -The bitterness underlying the words -made them forceful—of account. Lady Condor -felt they were in bad taste, and North got up, -frowning irritably, and moved away to the -window. Violet, however, was paying no attention -to either of them. She was looking at -Ruth, with her golden eyes full of something -approaching malice.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You go on playing with your little bits of -kindness and your toys, and think everything -in the garden is lovely!” She laughed again, -that little hateful laugh. “And what do you -suppose is really going on all the time! You -human beings are the biggest fraud on the face -of the earth!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth started a little at the pronoun. Her -serenity was disturbed; she looked worried.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You talk of righteousness, and justice, and -brotherhood, and all the rest of the rotten humbug,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>Violet Riversley went on, “and hold up -your hands in horror when other people transgress -against your paper ideals. But every -nation is out for what it can make, every people -will wade through oceans of blood and torture -and infamy if it thinks it can reap any benefit -from it. And why not? Survival of the fittest, -that is nature’s law. But why can’t you say so? -Instead of all this hypocrisy and pretence of -high morals. You make me sick! What possible -right have you to howl at the Germans? -You are all the same—England and France and -America—the whole lot of you. You have all -taken by force or fraud. You have all driven -out by arms and plots weaker peoples than yourselves. -I don’t blame you for that—weaker -people should go—it is the law of nature. But -don’t go round whining about how good you are -to them. You are just about as good to them as -you are to your animals or anything else weaker -than yourselves. Why can’t you have the courage -of your brutality, and your lust, and your -strength. It might be worth something then. -You might be great. As it is you are only -contemptible—the biggest fraud on the face of -creation.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She faltered suddenly, and stopped. Ruth’s -eyes had met hers steadily, all the time she had -been speaking; and now her hostess spoke slowly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>and quietly, as one speaks to a little child when -one wants to impress something upon it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Why do you talk like that, Violet Riversley?” -she asked. “You know you do not think -like that yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North, standing by the window, watched, with -the fingers of a horrible anxiety gripping him. -His daughter’s face in the leaping firelight -looked like a twisted distorted mask. Lady -Condor, open-mouthed, comically perplexed, -stared from one to the other, for once speechless.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is the truth.” Violet Riversley uttered -the words slowly, it seemed with difficulty.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<em>You</em> do not think so,” answered Ruth, still -as one who would impress a fact on a child. -Then she rose from her chair. “Come!” she -said, with a strange note of command in her -voice, “I know you will all like to walk round -the place before tea.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet passed her hand across her eyes, much -as a person will do when waking from the -proverbial forty winks. She stood up, and -shivered a little.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was talking, after a fashion unusual to -her, almost forcing the conversation into certain -channels. “Yes, of course, you are very right, -Lady Condor,” she said. “No man can be -valued truly until you see what he can do just -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>with his brain and his character and his own -two hands. Now I can give Violet a really fine -character for work. As a matter of fact I am -filled with jealousy. She can milk quicker than -I can. I think because she learnt when she was -quite young. Mr. Carey taught her.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Poor dear Dick! He did teach the children -such queer things,” said Lady Condor, allowing -herself to be assisted out of her comfortable -chair by the fire without protest. “But who -was it learnt to milk? Some one quite celebrated. -Was it Marie Antoinette? Or was it -Queen Elizabeth? It must be just milking time; -let us go, dear Violet, and see you milk. It -will interest us so much,” she added, with that -amazing tact which no one except those who -knew her best ever realized.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Violet followed them into the garden without -speaking. Her eyes had a curious vacant look; -she moved like a person walking in her -sleep.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Lady Condor took Ruth’s arm and dropped -behind the others on the way to the farmyard. -“My dear,” she said, “I don’t know what’s -the matter, but I see you wish to create a diversion. -Poor dear Violet, I have never heard -her talk such nonsense before. Rather unpleasant -nonsense too, wasn’t it? Can it be -she has fallen in love with one of those dreadful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>Socialist creatures? I believe they can sometimes -be quite attractive, and the young women -of the present day are so <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">outré</span></i>, you never know -who or what they will take up with. Besides, -I believe they wash nowadays. The Socialists -I mean, of course. In my day they thought it -showed independence to appear dirty and without -any manners. So funny, was it not? But -I met one the other day who was charming. -Quite good looking and well dressed, even his -boots. Or, let me see, was he a Theosophist? -There are so many ‘ists’ now, it is difficult not -to get them mixed up. But where was I? Oh -yes—dear Violet! Where can she have got -those queer ideas from? I do hope she is not -attracted by some ‘ist.’ I so often notice that -when a woman gets queer opinions there is -either a man, or the want of a man, at the bottom -of it. And it cannot be the latter with -dear Violet. Ah, now here we are. Don’t the -dear things look pretty? And you have such -a lovely milking shed for them. Violet, you -really must show me how you milk. I should -like to begin myself. But don’t you have to -lean your head against the cow?—and it would -ruin my dahlias.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come and see the real dahlias instead,” -said Violet, laughing. “Yours are the most -wonderful imitation I have ever seen. I don’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>believe you could tell them from the real ones. -Where did you get them? Madame Elsa?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Her voice and manner were wholly natural -again. North looked palpably relieved, but -when his daughter had disappeared with Lady -Condor towards the flower garden he turned -anxiously to Ruth.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Does she often talk like that?” he asked. -“It is so unlike her—so absolutely unlike—” -He stopped, his eyes searched Ruth’s, and for -a moment there was silence. “What is it?” -he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>They were wandering now, aimlessly, back -to the house.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“If I were to tell you what I think,” said -Ruth slowly, “you would call me mad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You don’t mind that.” He spoke impatiently. -“Tell me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Not yet—wait. Did anything strike you -when she burst out like that just now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North did not answer. He had ridden over -and still held his whip in his right hand. He -struck the fallen rustling leaves backwards and -forwards with it as he walked, with the sharp -whish expressive of annoyance and irritation.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“You women are enough to drive a man crazy -between you,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>This being plainly no answer to her question -Ruth simply waited.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>“How often has she talked in that strain?” -North asked at length.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Twice only, before to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And you—call her back to herself—as you -did just now?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>They had reached the terrace, and he stood -facing her. He searched her eyes with his as -he had done before.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is not possible,” he said, but the words -lacked conviction.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth said nothing. Her eyes were troubled, -but they met his steadily.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then at last North told her. “It might -have been Karl von Schäde speaking,” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Come indoors,” she said gently.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He followed her into the warm rose-scented -room and sat down by the fire, shivering. She -threw more logs upon it, and the flames shot -up, many-hued, rose and amber, sea-green and -heliotrope.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Tell me what you think, what you know,” -said North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked into the leaping mass of flame, -her face very grave. Her voice was very low, -hardly above a whisper.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I think the hatred in which Karl von Schäde -passed into the next world has found a physical -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>instrument through which to manifest here,” -she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And that instrument is—good God!” -North’s voice was sharp with horror. “It isn’t -possible—the whole thing is ridiculous. But go -on. I heard to-day. That has happened twice -before you say. You suspected then, of course. -Is there anything else?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And even as he spoke, things, little things, -that Violet had said and done, came back to him. -The shrinking of the dogs, his own words—“She -is not herself”—took on new meaning.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“There is a blight upon the farm since she -came,” said Ruth. “The joy and peace are not -here as they were. Perhaps you would not -feel it, coming so seldom.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I noticed it. But Violet has not made -for peace of late. I thought it was just her -being here.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The children don’t care to come as they -did, and there have been quarrels. The creatures -are not so tame. Nothing is doing quite -so well. These are little things, but taken all -together they make a big whole.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Anyway it’s not fair on you,” said North -shortly. “The place is too good to spoil, and -you——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In that moment, the supreme selfishness with -which he and his had used her for their own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>benefit, as some impersonal creature, that could -not be weary or worried or overtaxed, came -home to him. He felt suddenly ashamed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled at him. “No,” she said. “The -farm, I, you, are all just instruments too, as -she has become, poor child. Only we are instruments -on the other side.” Her voice -dropped, and he leant forward to catch the -words. “Dick Carey’s instruments; we cannot -fail him.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Then you think——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“See!” She held herself together, after her -queer fashion, as a child does when thinking -hard. “You remember in the letter about von -Schäde, when Mr. Carey wrote: ‘he died cursing -England, the English, me and mine and -Thorpe. It was like the evil of this war incarnate.’ -Do you think that force of emotion -perished with the physical, or do you think -the shattering of the physical left it free? -And remember too, Karl von Schäde had studied -those forces, had learnt possibly something -of how to handle them. Then Violet, Violet -whom he had loved, after his own fashion, and -to whom he would therefore be drawn——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But if there is any justice, here or there,” -broke in North, “why should she become the -brute’s instrument?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Because she too was filled with hate. Only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>so could it have been possible. Think for a -minute and you will see.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In his youth, North had been afflicted with -spasms of stammering. One seized him now. -It seemed part of the horror which was piercing -the armour in which he had trusted, distorting -with strange images that lucid brain of his, so -that all clear train of thought seemed to desert -him. He struggled painfully for a few moments -before speech returned to him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“D—damn him. D—damn him. Damn -him,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth sprang up, and laid her hand across -his mouth. Fear was in her eyes. He had -never thought to see her so moved, she who was -always so calm, so secure.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“For pity’s sake stop,” she said; “if you -feel like that you must go. You must not -come here again. You must keep away from -her. Oh, don’t you see you are helping him? -I ought not to have told you; I did not realize -it might fill you with hate too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I’m sorry,” said North harshly. “I’m -afraid anything else is beyond me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He had given up all attempt to insist that -it was impossible. The uncanny horror had -him in its grip. He felt that he had bidden -farewell to common sense.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth grew imperative. “For God’s sake, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>try!” she said. “Don’t hate. Don’t curse -him like that. Don’t you see—you cannot overcome -hate with hate; you can only add to it. I -find it so hard myself not to feel as you do. -But oh, don’t you see, all his life Dick Carey -must have loved, in a small far-off way of -course, as God loves. And everything that -lived and moved and breathed came within the -scope of his tenderness and his pity. And That -which was himself did not perish with the physical -either. That too is free—free and fighting. -You can only overcome hate with love. -But on a physical plane, even God Himself -can only work through physical instruments.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped, and looked at North imploringly.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have your meaning,” he said more gently. -Her sudden weakness moved him indescribably.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And the worst of it is,” she went on, “I -have lately lost that sense of being in touch -with him. You remember how I told you about -it. It came, I thought, through us both loving -the farm, but indeed I did know, in some strange -way, what he wanted done and when he was -pleased. You will remember I told you. If I -could feel still what was best to do, but it -is like struggling all alone in the dark! Only -one thing I know, I hold to. You cannot overcome -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>hate with hate. You can only overcome -hate with love. But the love is going out of -the farm. It was so full of it—so full—I could -hear it singing always in my heart. But now -there is something awful here. I can sense it -in the night, I can feel it in all sorts of ways. -The peace has gone that was so beautiful, the -radiance and the joy. And always now I have -instead the sense of great struggle, and some -evil thing that threatens.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It is not fair on you or on the farm,” said -North, very gently now. “Violet ought to -leave.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t know. Sometimes I have thought -so—and yet—I don’t know. I am working in -the dark. I know so little really of these things—we -all know so little.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Her presence is injuring the farm, or so it -seems. Indeed, it must be so. A human being -full of hate and misery is no fit occupant for -any home. Also we have no right——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked at him, and again he felt -ashamed. “I beg your pardon,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We have the sort of right that you acknowledge, -I know, but I don’t think we should -claim it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She came to me, or rather, I think, to the -farm, to the nearest she could get to him. Or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>again, it might be the other force driving her. -I don’t know. But I can’t send her away. I -think of it sometimes, but I know I can’t.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is she like on the whole?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dull and moody sometimes, wandering -about the place, hardly speaking at all. Once -or twice she stayed in her room all day and -refused all food. But at other times she will -follow me about wherever I go, clinging to me -like a child, eager to help. Sometimes she will -commit some horrible little cruelty, and be -ashamed of it afterwards and try to hide it. -If she could speak of it at all, confide in anyone -it would be better I think. But she does -not seem able to.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North sat staring into the fire with haggard -eyes, the deep lines of his face very visible as -the flames leapt and fell.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It will send her out of her mind if it goes -on,” he said at length.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth did not answer. Her silence voiced -her own exceeding dread; it seemed to North -terrible. If she should fail he knew that it -would be one of the worst things which had ever -happened to him. In that moment he knew -how much she had come to stand for in his -mind. He kept his eyes upon the fire and did -not look at her. He dreaded to see that fear -again in her eyes, dreaded to see her weak. It -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>was as if the evil of the world was the only -powerful thing after all. And he knew now -that he had begun to hope, things deep down -in his consciousness had begun to stir, to come -to life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>But presently Ruth spoke again, and, looking -up, he met the old comforting friendliness -of her smile. Her serenity had returned. Her -face looked white and very worn, but it was -no longer marred with fear.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I am sorry,” she said, “and I am ashamed -to have been so foolish, to have let myself -think for a moment that we should fail. -Hate is very strong and very terrible; but love -is stronger and very beautiful. Let us only -make ourselves into fit instruments for its -power. We <em>must</em>. If Karl von Schäde lasts -beyond, so too, more surely still, does Dick -Carey. Why should we be afraid? Will you -give to Karl von Schäde the instruments for his -power and deny them to the friend you loved? -And is it so difficult after all? Think what he -must have suffered, his poor body broken into -pieces, his mind full of anguish that his country -was ruined, beaten, and full of the horrors -he had seen and which he attributed to us. -Think of those last awful hours of his, and have -you at least no pity? Try for it, reach out for -it, get yourself into that mind which you knew -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>as Dick Carey. Take Karl van Schäde into it -too in your thought.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She stopped, her voice broken, but the light -that shone in her face was like a star.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I will try,” said Roger North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the pause that followed the approaching -clatter of Lady Condor’s re-entry was almost -a relief. She brought them back into the regions -of ordinary everyday things. Violet, too, -was laughing, getting more like herself. The -tension relaxed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Miss Seer, if I had planted my dahlias -among yours, really you would, never have -found it out. They are an amazing imitation—quite -amazing. Condor thinks my taste -in hats too loud. But if men had their way we -should all dress in black. So depressing! -Tea? I should love it. But no, I cannot stay. -I have a duty party at home. So dull, but Condor -is determined that Hawkhurst shall stand -for the Division now he is safely tucked away -in the other House himself. All the old party -business is beginning again, just as if there -had been no war, when we were all shrieking -‘No more party politics.’ ‘No more hidden -policies.’ So like us, isn’t it? I shall put -Caroline Holmes in the chair at all the women’s -meetings. She does so love it—and making -speeches. Yes. She is to marry her Major this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>autumn, but she assures me it will not ‘curtail -her activities.’ Curtail! so nice! But where -was I? Oh yes, my tea-party, and I would so -much rather stay here. I remember I was just -going to be clever, and what happened? Oh, -we went out to see Violet milk, and we saw the -dahlias instead. Good-bye. Good-bye. And -come soon to see me.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So Lady Condor conveyed herself, talking -steadily, outside the sitting-room, with Roger -North in attendance carrying her various belongings. -But as she progressed across the -hall, and into her waiting car, she fell upon -a most unusual silence. It was not until she -was well settled in that she spoke again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t like Violet’s looks, Roger,” she said -then, her shrewd old eyes very kindly. “Why -are there no babies? There should always be a -nursery full of babies for the first ten years of -a woman’s married life. And where is Fred? -You should speak to him about it.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She waved a friendly hand at him, various -articles falling from her lap as she did so, and -the car rolled away.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North gave a little snort of bitter laughter as -he turned back into the house. Fred? Fred -was eating his heart out, catching salmon in -Scotland; and Violet was at Thorpe, obsessed by -a dead man’s hatred. He was filled with all a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>man’s desire to cut the whole wretched business -summarily, but the thing had got him in its -devilish meshes, and there was no escape. He -stayed to tea because he felt he must help Ruth, -and yet with the uneasy consciousness that he -was doing rather the reverse. Violet had fallen -into one of the moody silences so common to her -now, and, after she had had her tea, went back -to her chair by the fire and a book. Ruth and -Roger talked of the farm intermittently and -with a sense of restraint, and presently Violet -tossed her book on to the opposite chair and left -the room.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What is she reading?” asked Roger.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He crossed to the fire and picked the book up. -It was <cite>The Road to Self-Knowledge</cite>, by Rudolph -Steiner, and on the flyleaf, neatly written -in a stiff small writing, “K. von Schäde.” -Then Roger suddenly saw red. The logs still -burnt brightly in the grate, and with a concentrated -disgust, so violent that it could be felt, -he dropped the book into the heart of the flames -and rammed it down there with the heel of his -riding boot. The smell of burnt leather filled -the room before he lifted it, and watched, with -grim satisfaction, the printed leaves curl up in -the heat.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He made no apology for the act, though presumably -the book was now Ruth’s property.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>“That will show you just how much help I’m -likely to be,” he said. “Always supposing that -you are right. And now I’d better go.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth smiled at him. The child in man will -always appeal to a woman. “Yes, go,” she -said. “I will let you know if there is anything -to tell.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>North rode home with all the little demons of -intellectual pride and prejudice, of manlike contempt -for the intangible, whispering to him, -“You fool.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>His wife made a scene after dinner about his -visit to the farm. She resented Violet having -gone there. It had aroused her jealousy, and -her daughter came under the lash of her tongue -equally with her husband. Then North lost his -temper, bitterly and completely; they said horrible -things to each other, things that burn in, -and corrode and fester after, as human beings -will when they utterly lose control of themselves. -It ended, as it always did, in torrents of -tears on Mrs. North’s side, which drove North -into his own room ashamed, disgusted, furious -with her and himself.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He opened the windows to the October night -air. It was keen, with a hint of frost. The -thinned leaves showed the delicate tracery of -branches, black against the pale moonlit sky. -The stars looked a very long way off. Utterly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>sick at heart, filled with self-contempt for his -outbreak of temper, struggling in a miasma of -disgust with life and all things in it, he leant -against the window-sill; the keen cool wind -seemed to cleanse and restore.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A little well-known whine roused him, to find -Vic scratching against his knee. He picked her -up, and felt the small warm body curl against -his own. She looked at him as only a dog can -look, and, carrying her, he turned towards the -dying embers of the fire and his easy chair. -Then he stopped, remembering, noticing, for the -first time, that Larry had not come back with -him.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span> - <h2 id='XII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XII</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c006'>North did not visit the farm again. He -sent Ruth a brief line: “I am better -away.” That he made no apology and expressed -no thanks gave her the measure of his -trust in her and her friendship.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She answered his brief communication by one -equally brief: “Try not to think of it at all if -you cannot think the right way.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>So North buried himself in his work, forced -and drove himself to think of nothing else. -Slept at night from sheer weariness, and grew -more haggard and more silent day by day. At -least if he could not be on the side of the angels -he would not help the devils.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The month was mostly wild and wet, with -here and there days of supreme beauty. It -was on one of these, the last day of October, that -Ruth and Violet went, as they often did, for a -long tramp through the wet woods and over the -wind-swept hills towards the sea. The atmosphere -was that exquisite clearness which often -follows much rain. The few leaves remaining -on the trees, of burnished golden-brown, came -falling in soft rustling showers with each gust -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>of the fresh strong wind. They had walked -far, so far that they had come by hill and dale -as the crow flies to where the fall of the ground -came so abruptly as to hide the middle distance, -and the edge of the downs, broken by its low -dark juniper-bushes, stood before them, clear-cut, -against the great sweep of coastline far -away beneath. Pale gold and russet, the flat -lands stretched, streaked with the sullen silver -of sea-bound river and stream, to where, like -a hard steel-blue line on the horizon, lay the sea -itself. And behind that straight line, black and -menacing, and touched with a livid ragged edge, -rolled up the coming of a great storm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It made a noble picture, and Ruth watched it -for a few moments, her face responding, answering -to its beauty. She loved these landscapes -of England, loved them not only with her -present self, but also with some far-away depth -of forgotten experience. And it seemed to her -that she loved with them also those “unknown -generations of dead men” to whom they had -been equally dear. For these few moments, as -she looked out over the edge of the downs, she -forgot the haunting evil which was darkening all -her days, forgot everything but the beauty of -great space, of the wild rushing wind, the freedom—the -escape.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Odd bits of quotations came to her, as they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>always did in these moments; one, more insistent -than the others, sang, put itself into music, -clear, bell-like, mysterious:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“When I have reached my journey’s end,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And I am dead and free.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>And in that moment her sense of being in -touch with Dick Carey came back to her. Came -flooding in like a great tide of help and encouragement -and power.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“And I am dead and free.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>And yet people were afraid of death!</p> - -<p class='c007'>The great winds came up from the sea across -the earth-scented downs, shouting as they came. -She loved them, and the big dark masses of -cloud. She could have shouted too, for joy of -that great sense of freedom, of power, of control, -because she was one with those magnificent -forces of nature. In her too was that strength -and freedom which bowed only to the One who -is All.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The blood tingled in her veins; in the full -sweep of the wind she was warm—warm with -life. She forgot Violet Riversley cowering at -her side. Forgot the little dogs crouching, -tucked against her feet, and swept for one wild -moment out into the immensity of a great freedom. -Then, suddenly, the steel-blue line of sea -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>broke into white, the storm-clouds met and -crashed, and lightning, like the sharp thrust of a -living sword, struck across the downs, struck -and struck again. Heaven and earth and the -waters under the earth shuddered and reeled in -the grip of the storm, and Violet Riversley, -screaming with terror, fell on her knees by Ruth, -clasping her, crying:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Keep it away from me! Keep it away! -God! I can’t bear it any longer! Keep it -away!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And at her cry all the motherhood in Ruth’s -nature, never concentrated only on the few, -leapt into full life and splendour, spread its -white wings of protection. And away and beyond -her own love and pity she felt that of -another. Away and above her own fight was a -greater fight, infinitely greater. She picked the -girl up into the shelter of her arms, and her -whole heart cried out in a passion of pity. She -said odd little foolish words of tenderness, as -mothers will, for the form she held was as light -as that of a little child; just a shell it felt, -nothing more.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And then, suddenly, the rain fell in one blinding -rushing flood, drenching the little group to -the skin, blotting out everything with its torrential -flow.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, look!” said Ruth, almost involuntarily. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>A great flash of light had broken through from -the west, and against the violet black sky the -rain looked like a silver wall. It was amazingly, -even terribly, beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“We are in for a proper ducking,” she said, -trying to regain the normal. “Wet to the skin -already, all of us. And Sarah and Selina -frightened to death, the little cowards! You’d -better keep moving, dear. Come along.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>It seemed a weary way home. Never had -Ruth been more thankful for the presence of -Miss McCox in her household. Fires, hot baths, -hot coffee, all were ready; and she dried even -Selina, though surreptitiously, behind the -kitchen door that none might behold her weakness, -with her own hand. She put Violet to bed -after her hot bath, and ordered her to stay there. -Nothing but asserting herself forcibly kept Ruth -from a like fate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Them as will be foolish, there is no reasoning -with,” said Miss McCox, with dignity, and -retreated to the kitchen muttering like the -storm.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After a lull, it had returned again with renewed -force. The old house rocked as the great -wind hurled itself upon it, shrieking against the -shuddering windows as if demanding admittance. -Sheets of wild rain broke upon the panes, -and every now and then the thunder -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>crashed and broke and rent. After her dinner -Ruth went up and sat by the log fire in Violet’s -room. The pillow on which she lay was hardly -whiter than the girl’s face. Her great gold eyes -gazed out into the shadows blankly. Very -small and young and helpless she looked, and -Ruth’s heart ached for her. She chatted on -cheerfully, as she wove a woollen garment for -some little child of France with her ever-busy -fingers; chatted of the little things about the -farm; told little quaint stories of the animals -and flowers. Had she known it, just so had -Dick Carey often talked, in the winter evenings -over the fire, to the listening children. But -Violet Riversley just lay still, gazing into the -shadows, taking little notice. She made no allusion -to her violent attack of terror out in the -storm, and it grew on Ruth uncannily and horribly -that the girl who had clung to her, crying -for help, had slipped away from her again, -somewhere out into the darkness and silence, -torn from all known anchorage.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The little dogs had remained in their baskets -downstairs; only Larry had followed her up, -and lay across the doorway, his nose upon his -paws, his eyes gleaming watchfully out of the -shadow. Every now and then, when the shattering -wind with increasing violence struck -against the house again and again and wailed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>away like a baffled spirit, he growled in his -throat as at a visible intruder.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was late before Ruth gathered her work up -and said good-night. She was honestly tired in -mind and body, but an unaccountable reluctance -to leave Violet held her. And yet the girl was -apparently less restless, more normal, than -usual. Tired out, like herself, surely she would -sleep. Her terror out in the storm seemed entirely -to have gone.</p> - -<p class='c007'>So Ruth reasoned to herself as she went downstairs.</p> - -<p class='c007'>In the sitting-room the little dogs slept -soundly in their baskets. The fire still burned, -a handful of warm red ashes. The whole place -seemed full of peace and comfort, in marked -contrast to the rush and wail of the storm outside. -Ruth crossed to the lamp to see that it -was in order, and moved about putting little -tidying touches to the room, as women do the -last thing before they go upstairs to bed. She -was fully alive to the fact that the three weeks -of Violet’s visit had been a heavy strain on her, -mentally and bodily. It would be quite easy -to imagine things, to let this knowledge that she -was fighting steadily, almost fiercely, against -some awful unseen force overwhelm her, to -drive her beyond the limits of what was sanely -and reasonably possible. With her renewed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>sense of awareness of Dick Carey’s presence -had come an indefinable yearning tenderness for -Violet Riversley which had been lacking before -in her kindly interest and friendship. To give -way to fear or dread was the surest way to fail -in both.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked out at the night. By the light -streaming from the window she could see a -streak of rain-washed lawn, and, dimly, beyond, -the tortured branches of trees bowed and -strained under the whip of the wind. She drew -all the forces of her mind to the centre of her -being.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Lord of the heights and depths, Who dwellest -in all the Forms that Thou hast made.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She let the blind fall into its place and moved -back into the room. Larry had settled himself -in the big armchair which had been Dick Carey’s. -She stooped to stroke his head, and he looked -at her with eyes that surely understood.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Lord of the heights and depths, Who dwellest -in all the Forms that Thou hast made.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She kept the words and the thought in her -mind quite steadily. Almost as soon as she lay -down she passed into sleep, and dreamt—dreamt -that she was walking in the buttercup -field with Dick Carey and it was early morning -in the heart of the springtime. And he told her -many things, many and wonderful and beautiful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>things, which afterwards she tried to recall and -could not. And then, suddenly, he was calling -to her from a distance, and she was broad wide -awake sitting up in bed, and Larry in the room -below barked fiercely, then was silent.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The next instant she had thrown her dressing-gown -over her shoulders and was running bare-footed -across the landing and down the stairs. -Midway across the big old hall she stopped dead, -for on her had fallen, swiftly and terribly, that -old horror of her small childhood, a sense of all-pervading -blackness. It gripped her as forcibly -as it had done in those far-off days. Again she -was a small utterly helpless thing in its hideous -clutch. The light streaming from under the -sitting-room door accentuated the blackness, -gleamed evilly, assumed a sinister and terrible -importance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Almost she turned and fled—fled out of the -door behind her into the storm-swept night, -away to the clean air, to the darkness which was -full of beauty and healing. Not this—this that -stifled, and soiled, and buried. Away—anywhere—anyhow—from -what was behind that -flickering evil light, which made the hideous -blackness visible as well as tangible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Almost, but not quite. That which the long -years of patience and endurance had built into -her, held. Dick Carey had called to her. What -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>if he were in there, fighting, fighting against -odds. For the world was full of this Evil let -loose, the vibrations became palpable, engulfed -her, beat her down. For a moment that seemed -endless she fought for more than physical life.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then she moved forward again, and it was as -in dreams when feet are leaden-weighted and -we move them with an effort that seems past -our strength. But she did not hesitate again. -Steadily she opened the door. Dragging those -leaden feet she went in and closed it behind her.</p> - -<p class='c007'>A blast of hot air met her, insufferably hot. -Some one had made up the fire again. Piled -high with logs it burnt fiercely. The room was -in disorder. In the far corner by the south -window the little dogs lay cringing with terror, -trembling, while before them Larry crouched, -his white fangs bare, his lips lifted till the gums -showed, his blazing eyes fixed on the figure in -the centre of the room—the figure of Violet -Riversley.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Before her, piled on the floor, were various -articles, books and papers, gathered together -and heaped in the shape of a bonfire. At her -feet lay the bronze lamp. In her right hand she -held the wick, still alight. Curiously, the light -from the blazing logs played on the long folds -of her white gown. Almost it seemed as if she -were clothed in flame.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>It was more subconsciously than in any other -way that Ruth took in these details, for every -sense she had—and all had become most acutely -alive—concentrated on the terrific and hideous -fact that, enveloping Violet, encasing her as it -were, was a great outstanding Figure or Presence. -Fear gripped her to the soul like ice. -She could have screamed with very terror, but -she was beyond the use of the body, beyond, it -seemed, all help. For the entity that was not -Violet Riversley, very surely not Violet Riversley, -but a being infinitely stronger and more -powerful, looked at her with the eyes of a soul -self-tortured, self-maimed, and she saw in all -their terrific hideousness Hate and Revenge incarnate.</p> - -<p class='c007'>And as she looked a worse horror gripped -her. The Thing was trying to master her, to -make her its instrument, even as it had made -Violet Riversley. The very hair of her head -rose upon it as she felt her grip on herself loosening, -weakening. Her individuality seemed to -desert her, to disintegrate, to disappear.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It might have been a moment; it might have -been an eternity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then, as from a long way off, she heard Larry -give a strange cry. Something between a howl -and a bay its vibration stirred the air through -miles. The cry of the wolf to the pack for help. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>The old dog had stood up, his jowl thrust forward, -his body tense, ready for the spring.</p> - -<p class='c007'>With a final desperate effort, which seemed -to tear her soul out of her body, Ruth cried too—cried -to all she had ever thought or dreamed -or held to of Good; and in that moment her -awareness of Dick Carey suddenly became -acute. Afterwards, in her ordinary consciousness, -Ruth always found it impossible to recapture, -or in any way adequately to remember, the -sensations of the next overwhelming moment. -Not only were they beyond speech they seemed -beyond the grip of ordinary thought.</p> - -<p class='c007'>After that moment of supreme terror, of incredible -struggle, with the acute return of her -awareness of Dick Carey, with some crash of -warring elements and forces, mingling as part -of and yet distinct from the raging of the outside -storm, she regained Herself. Was out as -it were, in illimitable space, fighting shoulder to -shoulder, hand to hand, one with Dick Carey. -One, too, with some mighty force, fighting gloriously, -triumphantly, surely; fighting through -all the Ages, through all the Past, on through -all the Future, beyond Space and beyond Time.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then, suddenly, she was carried out—in no -other way could she describe it afterwards—out -of the stress and the battle on a wave of very -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>pure and perfect compassion into the heart of a -radiance before which even the radiance of the -fullest sunlight would be as a rush candle. -And into that infinite radiance came too the -deadly hatred, the unspeakable malice, the craving -for revenge, the bitterness, the rebellion—came -and was swallowed up, purified, transmuted. -In a great and glorious moment she -knew that the Force was one and the same, and -that it is the motive power behind which makes -it Good or Evil.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Then the outside storm concentrated and fell -in one overwhelming crash. The house rocked, -and rocked again. Ruth, mechanically stepping -forward, caught in her arms a body which -fell against her almost like a paper shell. Very -swiftly she carried it out into the hall. Her -normal senses were suddenly again acute; they -worked quickly. And on the stair, infinitely to -her relief, appeared the shining polished countenance -of Miss McCox. Her attire defied -description, and in her hands she held, one in -each, at the carry, the proverbial poker and -tongs. Behind her came Gladys, open-mouthed, -dishevelled, likewise fully armed, and accomplishing -a weird sound which appeared to be a -combination of weeping and giggling.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth struggled with delightful and inextinguishable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>laughter, which she felt might very -easily degenerate into hysterics, for she was -shaking in every limb.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no; it is not burglars!” she said. “Put -those things down, and take Mrs. Riversley. -She has been walking in her sleep, and I am -afraid has fainted. You know what to do. I -must telephone the doctor.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>In her mind was the immediate necessity of -dealing with that sinister bonfire before it could -work damage, also before any eyes but her own -should see it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The lighted wick had fallen on to papers -sprinkled with the oil, and already, when she -returned to the sitting-room, little tongues of -flame were alight and a thin pillar of smoke -crowned its apex. She dealt swiftly with it with -the heavy rugs luckily to her hand, and when -the creeping fire was crushed out and stifled she -put the injured remains of treasured books and -ornaments hurriedly into the drawers of the big -bookcase. The damage to the carpet there was -no possibility of concealing, and after a moment -of thought she took one of the charred logs, -black and burnt out, and scattered it where the -pile had been. Then she took the wick in which -the light still burned, true symbol of the Life -Eternal, and restored it and the lamp to its own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>place, drew back the curtains, and opened the -great window looking south.</p> - -<p class='c007'>It was early morning. The storm was riding -away in broken masses of heavy cloud. -Drenched and dim, and covered with a rising -silver mist, the racked world rested in a sudden -calm. But the storm had left its traces in the -broken branches strewing lawn and garden and -field, and across the pathway a great elm-tree, -snapped half-way up the main trunk, lay with -its proud head prostrate, blocking the main -entrance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The coolness of the dawn touched like a benediction -Ruth’s tired face and black and bruised -hands. For a few moments she stood looking -up at the washed sky, the fading stars, while the -dogs nestled against her, craving for notice. -A great sense of life and happiness came flowing -into her, flowing like a mighty tide with -the wind behind it, and she knew that all was -well.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She would have given a good deal to sit down -and cry, but there was much to be done. That -morning passed like a hurried nightmare, the -whole house pervaded with that painful agitation -which the shadow of death, coming suddenly, -brings, for Violet Riversley was -desperately and dangerously ill. She was in a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>high fever, wildly delirious, and Ruth found it -impossible to leave her. Miss McCox took command -in her absence, and moved about house -and farm a very tower of strength in emergency, -while Gladys haunted her footsteps, crying -at every word, as is the manner of her kind -in such moments. In the sitting-room, Roger -North and his wife, summoned by telephone, -waited while the doctor made his examination. -The room had been stiffly set in order by Miss -McCox’s swift capable hands. Over the -scorched and blackened patch on the carpet she -had set a table, nothing but a general air of -bareness and smell of burning remained to hint -of anything unusual. Both windows were -opened wide to the chill early morning air, and -Mrs. North crouched by the fire shivering.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was utterly unnerved and overcome. -The message had arrived just as she was dressing. -She had swallowed a hurried breakfast, -when, quite strangely, it did not matter that the -coffee was not so good as usual, and the half-dozen -notes and letters from various friends -were of no real concern whatever. She had -been engaged to lunch at the Condors. In the -afternoon she had promised to give away the -prizes at a Village Work Show. And into all -this pleasant everyday life had come, shattering -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>it all into little bits, the sudden paralyzing -fact that Violet had been taken dangerously ill -during the night.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She and her husband had driven over in the -little car to find the doctor still in the sick-room. -Ruth was also there, and questioning Miss -McCox was much like extracting information -from the Sphinx.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I always disliked that woman; she has no -more heart than a stone,” Mrs. North complained -tearfully. “And I do think she ought -to tell Miss Seer we have arrived. It is dreadful -to be kept away from one’s own child like -this and not know what is happening.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Eliot will be down soon, I expect,” said -North. He was wandering aimlessly, restlessly, -about the room, for as the time lengthened -his nerves too grew strained with waiting. -What had happened? All sorts of horrible -possibilities pressed themselves upon him. If -only Ruth would come and he could see her -alone for a moment!</p> - -<p class='c007'>He stopped in his restless pacing, and looked -down kindly at his wife’s shivering form. -“Shall I shut the windows?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No,” she answered; “never mind. Oh, -Roger, do you think she will die? I can’t bear -it! Oh, why doesn’t he come?”</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>She got up and clutched her husband’s coat-sleeve, -hiding her face on his shoulder. -“Roger, I couldn’t bear her to die.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Never before had the great presence of Death -really come near to her, except to summon the -very old whose life had already almost passed -to the other side. And now, suddenly, like a -bolt out of a serene blue sky, it was standing -beside her, imminent, threatening, and, to her, -unspeakably terrible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Roger North put an awkward arm round her. -He felt uncomfortably stiff and useless, and -ridiculously conscious of the fact that she had -forgotten in her hurry and distress to take her -hair out of the curler at the back of her neck.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was honestly anxious to be sympathetic, -to be all that was kind and helpful. His own -anxiety racked him, and yet, absurdly enough, -that curler obtruded itself on his notice until -he found himself saying, “You have left one of -your curlers in.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was acutely aware that it was about the -last thing he should have said and wholly unsuitable -to the moment, but his wife, fortunately, -took no such view.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It just shows the state of my mind!” she -exclaimed, trying with shaking fingers to disentangle -it. “I have never done such a thing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>in my life before! What a mercy you noticed -it!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He helped her to get the little instrument out, -and put it in his pocket.</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was the sound of a closing door above, -the hurried movement of feet, and Mrs. North -clutched her husband’s arm. They both looked -towards the door. But silence fell again, and -she began to cry.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Do you think she’s dying, Roger?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, no! Eliot would send for us, of -course.” He began his restless walk to and fro -again. “I wish we had got here before Eliot -did. You could have gone in with him then.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And here, at last, footsteps came down the -stairs, across the hall, the door opened, and the -doctor came in.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He was an unusual man to find buried in a -country practice. A man of outstanding intellect -and of a very charming presence. Between -him and North a warm friendship existed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah, you have come!” he exclaimed.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He took Mrs. North’s hand and looked down -at her with exceeding kindness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The child is very ill and I fear brain trouble,” -he said. “I gather she went for a long -walk yesterday and got drenched in the storm, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>so it is possibly aggravated by a chill. Do you -know of any special worry or trouble?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Nothing whatever,” said Mrs. North decisively. -“Except, of course, poor Dick’s death. -She felt that very much at the time, and Roger -thinks she has never got over it, don’t you, -Roger?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Roger nodded. For a moment he considered -laying before his friend the abnormal situation -in which Ruth Seer believed, and which he himself -had come anyway to recognize as within -the realms of possibility. But the inclination -faded almost as soon as born. He had had no -speech yet with Ruth, nor did it seem fair to -Violet. Possibly, perhaps, some personal pride -held him.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The doctor looked at him kindly. “Poor little -girl! Well, she made a brave fight, I remember. -Now, Mrs. North, no worrying. -How old is the child? Twenty-six? You can -get over anything at twenty-six! I’m sending -in a nurse, and that woman upstairs is worth -her weight in gold. You couldn’t have her in -better hands. Now you’d like to go up and have -a look at her. Don’t get worried because she -won’t know you; that’s part of the illness.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But outside he looked at Roger with an anxious -face.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She’s very ill, North,” he said. “It must -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>have been coming on for some time. The storm—yes—that -shook it up into active mischief, no -doubt. We’ll pull her through, I hope; but -would you like a specialist’s opinion? These -brain troubles are very obscure.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I leave it to you,” said North, his whole -being sick and empty.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Well, we’ll see how she goes on in the next -twenty-four hours.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He sped away, and Roger wandered aimlessly -about the farm, looking at the wreckage of the -storm, with Larry and the little dogs, conscious -in their dumb way that their beloveds were in -trouble, keeping at his heel.</p> - -<p class='c007'>By one of those vagaries which make the English -climate so lovable in spite of its iniquities, -it was, after the day and night of storm and -rain, that very wonderful thing a perfectly -beautiful morning in November. The sun -shone with astonishing warmth, scattering great -masses of grey and silver cloud, against which -the delicate black tracery of bough and twig, -stripped of every lingering leaf, showed in exquisite -perfection.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The farm was wide awake and astir with the -life of a new day. But Vi, little Vi, was lying -up there, at the Door of Death. Recollections -of her as a soft-headed, golden-eyed baby came -back to him; as a small child flitting like a white -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>butterfly about the garden; as a swift vision of -long black legs and a cloud of dark hair, running -wild with the boys; as the glorious hoyden who -had taken her world by storm in the days just -before the war. And now she lay there a -broken thing, tossed and driven to death in the -purposeless play of soulless and unpitying -forces. He ground his teeth in impotent rage, -overcome with a very anguish of helpless pain -and wrath. If only Ruth would come and tell -him what had happened!</p> - -<p class='c007'>The cowman, who was helping the gardener -clear away the remains of the storm, came up -from the fallen tree and spoke to him. He was -sorry to hear there was illness at the house. -North thanked him mechanically and escaped -into the flower garden. The few remaining -flowers were beaten to the ground, their heads -draggled in the wet earth. He got out his knife -and began to cut them off and tidy up the border. -He could watch the house at the same -time. The minutes dragged like hours, and -then, at last, the door on to the terrace opened, -and Ruth came out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked round and, catching sight of him, -hurried by the shortest way, across the wet -grass, to meet him. His pain-ravaged face -smote her with a great pity. She held out both -her hands to meet his.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>“I could not come before,” she said. “She -is quieter now. Oh, do not feel like that! She -will get well. I know she will get well.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Where can we go to be alone?” he asked. -“I must hear what happened. It is that which -has been driving me mad.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Let us go and walk along the path under the -‘house on the wall,’” she said. “No one will -come there and it is sheltered and warm in the -sun.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And there, pacing up and down, she told him, -as well as she could, the happenings of the night -before.</p> - -<p class='c007'>North ground his teeth. “She would be better -dead,” he said. “And yet——” He -looked at her, a new horror growing in his haggard -eyes, a question——?</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She will not die,” said Ruth. “But don’t -you understand, don’t you believe, whether she -lives or dies the evil is conquered, is transmuted, -is taken in to the Eternal Good?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No, I cannot believe,” said North harshly. -“I think you are playing with words. It seems -to me that only Evil is powerful. If anything -survives, it is that.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth looked at him with very gentle eyes. -“Wait,” she said. “Have just a little patience. -She will get well, and then you will believe.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I cannot believe,” said Roger North. The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>words fell heavily, like stones. He paced restlessly -backwards and forwards, crunching the -wet gravel viciously under his feet.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The house might have been burnt down. -You—I suppose you think that was the object?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes, I think it must have been so. At any -rate one of them.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“That is the loathsome horror of it all!” -North burst forth savagely. “I believe just -enough, because in no other way can I account -for what has happened, to make me dread death -for her in a way I should never have dreaded it -otherwise. I have always looked on our personal -grief as fundamentally selfish.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Ruth was silent. He seemed beyond the -reach of help, and she would have given so much -to help him. That he, at any rate for the moment, -gave no thought to what she had been -through disturbed her not at all.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Listen,” she said presently. “You may -think it all imagination, or what people call -imagination, but if you could only have seen it, -as I did, you would know it was very, very real. -It was when I was alone with her waiting for -Doctor Eliot. I went to the window to pull the -blind down a little, and when I turned round -again—I saw”—she stopped, searching for adequate -words—“I saw what looked like a wall -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>of white light. I can’t describe it any other -way, though it was not like any light we know -of here, more wonderful, alive in some strange -way. It was all round her. No evil thing could -get through. I am so sure.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She looked at him with her heart in her eyes, -but Roger North shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“It leaves me cold,” he said. “Is that why -you feel so sure she will get well?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“No. But I <em>am</em> sure; that is all I know.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>And to that Ruth held through the days of -tense anxiety that followed, through the visit of -the specialist from London, who gave little hope, -through the despair of others. She moved -among them as one carrying a secret store of -strength. Mrs. North, pitiably broken up, clung -to her for help and comfort, but North, after the -talk in the garden, had withdrawn into himself -and kept aloof. The ravages day after day -marked on his face went to Ruth’s heart when -he came over to inquire. But for the moment -he was beyond her reach or help. Whatever -devils from the bottomless pit rent and tore his -soul during these dark days, he fought them -single-handed, as indeed, ultimately, they must -be fought by every man.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. North and Fred Riversley stayed at -Thorpe.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>“Uncommonly decent of Miss Seer,” said Mr. -Pithey to his wife. “Turning her house into a -hotel as well as a hospital! That stuck-up little -Mrs. North, too. I’ve heard her say things -about Miss Seer that have put my bristles up. -Give me Lady Condor every time. Paint or no -paint!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>But Mrs. Pithey had learnt things down in the -dark valley. She was not so censorious as of -old.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I don’t cotton to Mrs. North myself,” she -answered. “She’s a woman who overprices -herself. But she’s a mother, and Miss Seer -could do no less than take her in. You might -take down some of these best Musk Cat grapes -after tea, ’Erb. P’raps Mrs. Riversley could -fancy ’em.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Everyone indeed was very kind, but with the -exception of Lady Condor and Mr. Fothersley, -Ruth kept visitors away from Mrs. North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Fred Riversley had astonished everyone by -turning out a wonderful nurse, and what little -rest Violet had was in his strong arms, nursed -like a child. She seemed nothing more, and in -her delirium had gone back to the days of her -childhood and talked of little else, and more and -more happily as the time went by.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“One might as well try to keep a snow -wreath,” he said one afternoon to Ruth, who -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>was giving him tea after his usual tramp round -the fields for some fresh air and exercise.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Even as he spoke there was a little bustle and -scurry outside the door, and before it opened -Riversley was on his feet and moving towards -it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>Mrs. North stood there, half laughing, half -crying. “Oh, she is better!” she cried. “She -has gone into a real sleep. Nurse says we may -hope. She will get well.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She dropped on to her knees by the fire and -buried her face against the cushions of the sofa, -sobbing and crying, while Riversley tore across -the hall and up the stairs two steps at a -time.</p> - -<hr class='c014' /> - -<p class='c007'>It was early on the following morning that -Violet Riversley opened her eyes and looked at -her husband with recognition in them.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dear old Freddy,” she said weakly. -“What’s the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He put his arms round her with the tears running -down his cheeks, and she nestled to him like -a tired child and fell asleep again.</p> - -<p class='c007'>When she woke the second time the room was -full of the pale November sunshine. She looked -round it curiously for a moment, then her mind -seemed to give up the effort to remember where -she was and she looked at him.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>“I do love you, Freddy,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The morning sounds of the farm came in -through the open window and she smiled. “Of -course, I’m at Thorpe. I dreamt I was with -Dick.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Outside, Ruth went across the terrace to her -farm work. Her face was that of one who holds -secure some hidden store of happiness. She -sang to herself as she went:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“When I have reached my journey’s end,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And I am dead and free.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The words floated up clear and sweet through -the still air.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Dead and free.” Violet repeated them in -a small faint voice, and again Fear gripped -Riversley by the throat. He longed to hold her -more closely and dared not. There seemed no -perceptible substance to hold. His mouth went -dry while he struggled with his difficulty of -speech.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The journey is worth making too, Vi,” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>The husky strangled voice made its appeal. -She looked with more of understanding into his -bloodshot eyes, his haggard ravaged face, and -her own face became suddenly very sweet and -of a marvellous brightness.</p> - -<p class='c007'><span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>“Yes,” she said, “the journey is worth making -too.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>More distant came the sound of Ruth’s song:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I pray that God will let me go</div> - <div class='line'>And wander with them to and fro,</div> - <div class='line'>Along the flowered fields I know,</div> - <div class='line in2'>That look towards the sea,</div> - <div class='line in2'>That look towards the sea.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The white pigeons swooped down about her. -The dogs, so long kept in to heel, rushed wildly -over the lawn and down to the river, uttering -sharp cries of joy. A robin, perched on the -coping of the old wall, sang sweet and shrill. -She looked out over her beloved fields, over the -long valley full of misty sunshine, and was content. -The farm was Itself again. She moved -on across the lawn leaving footprints on the -silver wet grass, to where, standing by the gate, -she saw Roger North.</p> - -<p class='c007'>He turned at the sound of her coming, and she -called to him:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“She has slept ever since I ’phoned to you. -She will get well.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Thank God!” he said, as men will in these -moments, whether they believe or no.</p> - -<p class='c007'>His face was curiously alive, alight with some -great happening; there was an air of joyous -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>excitement about him. He moved towards her, -and smiled a little, rather shamefaced smile, -and the odd likeness to a schoolboy who is feeling -shy was very apparent. Then he blurted it -out.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I have seen him,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Ah!” The exclamation was a note of pure -joy. “Oh, tell me about it!”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He was leaning over the gate. He was -looking for me, waiting for me, just as he used -to do. And he looked at me with his dear old -grin. It was ever so real.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Yes. Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“And he spoke. Just as you have told me. -It isn’t the same as speaking here. It’s something -like a thought passing——”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He stopped, his face all alight. He looked -years younger. The heavy lines were hardly -visible.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I wish I had spoken. Somehow at the moment -I couldn’t.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“I know. One cannot. I believe it is because -of the vibrations. I suppose——” Ruth hesitated. -“Can you tell me?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>“What he said? It—it seems so ridiculous. -One expected it would be something important, -something—well, different.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She laughed, looking at him with affection, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>with that wonderful look of pure friendliness.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“But why should it?”</p> - -<p class='c007'>He laughed too—joyously. As he had not -laughed since boyhood. Surely again the world -was full of wonder and of glory. Again all -things were possible, in the light of the Horizon -beyond Eternity.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“He said—just as he used to, you know—‘Come -<em>on</em>, old Roger!’”</p> - - -<div class='pbb'> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - <hr class='pb c015' /> -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</h2> -</div> - <ol class='ol_1 c002'> - <li>Table of <a href='#CONTENTS'>Contents</a> added by transcriber. - </li> - <li>Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - </li> - <li>Retained anachronistic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. - </li> - <li>P. <a href='#t87'>87</a>, changed '“She is really an excellent worker,” and - little Miss Luce' to - '“She is really an excellent worker,” said little Miss Luce'. - </li> - <li>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain. - </li> - </ol> -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN ON THE OTHER SIDE***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 60331-h.htm or 60331-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/0/3/3/60331">http://www.gutenberg.org/6/0/3/3/60331</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. -</p> - -<h2 class="pg">START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<br /> -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</h2> - -<p>To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license.</p> - -<h3>Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works</h3> - -<p>1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8.</p> - -<p>1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.</p> - -<p>1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others.</p> - -<p>1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</p> - -<p>1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</p> - -<p>1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</p> - -<blockquote><p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United - States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost - no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use - it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with - this eBook or online - at <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this - ebook.</p></blockquote> - -<p>1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</p> - -<p>1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work.</p> - -<p>1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.</p> - -<p>1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License.</p> - -<p>1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</p> - -<p>1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</p> - -<p>1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that</p> - -<ul> -<li>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation."</li> - -<li>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works.</li> - -<li>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work.</li> - -<li>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.</li> -</ul> - -<p>1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.</p> - -<p>1.F.</p> - -<p>1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment.</p> - -<p>1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</p> - -<p>1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</p> - -<p>1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</p> - -<p>1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</p> - -<p>1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. </p> - -<h3>Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm</h3> - -<p>Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</p> - -<p>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org.</p> - -<h3>Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation</h3> - -<p>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</p> - -<p>The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact</p> - -<p>For additional contact information:</p> - -<p> Dr. Gregory B. Newby<br /> - Chief Executive and Director<br /> - gbnewby@pglaf.org</p> - -<h3>Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation</h3> - -<p>Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS.</p> - -<p>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/donate">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.</p> - -<p>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</p> - -<p>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</p> - -<p>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate</p> - -<h3>Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.</h3> - -<p>Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support.</p> - -<p>Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</p> - -<p>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org</p> - -<p>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</p> - -</body> -</html> - diff --git a/old/60331-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/60331-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9b31e37..0000000 --- a/old/60331-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/60331-h/images/title.jpg b/old/60331-h/images/title.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 98ffc8c..0000000 --- a/old/60331-h/images/title.jpg +++ /dev/null |
