They chatted on, casually, impersonally, in rather subdued tones. The dog returned now and then to see that all was well. All was well enough, it appeared, for she sat beside Siward, quite content, knees clasped in her hands, exchanging impressions of life with a man who so far had been sympathetically considerate in demanding from her no intellectual effort.
The conversation drifted illogically; sometimes he stirred her to amusement, even a hushed laughter; sometimes she smilingly agreed with his views, sometimes she let them go, uncriticised; or, intent on her own ideas, shook her small head in amused disapproval.
The stillness over all, the deepening mellow light, the blessed indolence of the young worldand their few years in itYouth! That was perhaps the key to it all, after all.
To-morrow, she mused aloud, knees cradled in her clasped fingers, to-morrow theyll shootwith great circumstance and fussa few native woodcocktheres no flight yet from the north!a few grouse, fewer snipe, a stray duck or two. Others will drive motor cars over bad roads; others will ride, sail, golfanything to kill the eternal enemy.
And you?
Je nen sais rien, monsieur.
Mais je voudrais savoir.
Pourquoi?
To lay a true course by the stars; he looked at her blue eyes and she laughed easily under the laughing flattery.
You must seek another compassto-morrow, she said. Then it occurred to her that nobody could guess her decision in regard to Quarrier; and she partly raised her eyes, looking at him, indolent speculation under the white lids.
She liked him already; in fact she had liked few men as well on such brief acquaintance.
You know the majority of the people here, or coming, dont you? she inquired.
Who are they?
She began: The Leroy Mortimers?
Oh, yes.
Lord Alderdene and Captain Voucher, and the Page twins and Marion?
Yes.
Rena Bonnesdel, the Tassel girl, Agatha Caithness, Mrs. Vendenningall sorts, all sets. And, with an effort: If Im to drive, I should liketoto know what time it is?
He informed her; and she, too indolent to pretend surprise, and finding reproach easier, told him that he had no business to permit her to forget.
His smiling serenity under the rebuke aroused in her a slight resentment as though he had taken something for granted.
Besides, she had grown uneasy; she had wired Quarrier, saying she would meet him and drive him over. He had replied at once, naming his train. He was an exact man and expected method and precision in others. She didnt exactly know how it might affect him if his reasonable demand was unsatisfied. She did not know him very well yet, only well enough to be aware that he was a gentleman so precisely, so judiciously constructed, that, contemplating his equitable perfections, her awe and admiration grew as one on whom dawns the exquisite adjustments of an almost human machine.
And, thinking of him now, she again made up her mind to give him the answer which he now had every reason to expect from her. This decision appeared to lubricate her conscience; it ran more smoothly now, emitting fewer creaks.
You say that you know Mr. Quarrier? she began thoughtfully.
Not well.
Ihope you will like him, Mr. Siward.
I do not think he likes me, Miss Landis. He has reasons not to.
She looked up, suddenly remembering: Ohsince that scrape? What has Mr. Quarrier to do She did not finish the sentence. A troubled silence followed; she was trying to remember the detailssomething she had paid small attention to at the timesomething so foreign to her, so distant from her comprehension that it had not touched her closely enough for her to remember exactly what this young man might have done to forfeit the good-will of Howard Quarrier.
She looked at Siward; it was impossible that anything very bad could come from such a man. And, pursuing her reasoning aloud: It couldnt have been very awful, she argued; something foolish about an actress, was it not? And that could not concern Mr. Quarrier.
I thought you did know; I thought yourememberedwhile you were driving me over from the stationthat I was dropped from my club.
She flushed up: Oh!butwhat had Mr. Quarrier to do with that?
He is a governor of that club.
You mean that Mr. Quarrier had youdropped?
What else could he do? A man who is idiot enough to risk making his own club notorious, must take the consequences. And they say I took that risk. Therefore Mr. Quarrier, Major Belwetherall the governors did their duty. II naturally conclude that no governor of the Patroons Club feels very kindly toward me.
Miss Landis sat very still, her small head bent, a flush still brightening her fair face.
She recalled a few of the details nowthe scandalsomething of the story. Which particular actress it was she could not remember; but some men who had dined too freely had made the wager, and this boy sitting beside her had accepted itand won it, by bringing into the sacred precincts of the Patroons Club a foolish, shameless girl disguised in a mans evening dress.
That was bad enough; that somebody promptly discovered it was worse; but worst of all was the publicity, the clubs name smirched, the young man expelled from one of the two best clubs in the metropolis.
To read of such things in the columns of a daily paper had meant little to her except to repell her; to hear it mentioned among people of her own sort had left her incurious and indifferent. But now she saw it in a new light, with the man who had figured in it seated beside her. Did such men as hesuch attractive, well-bred, amusing men as hedo that sort of thing?
There he sat, hat off, the sun touching his short, thick hair which waved a little at the templesa boyish mould to head and shoulders, a cleanly outlined check and chin, a thoroughbred ear set closea good face. What sort of a man, then, was a woman to feel at ease with? What eye, what mouth, what manner, what bearing was a woman to trust?
Is that the kind of man you are, Mr. Siward? she said impulsively.
It appears that I was; I dont know what I amor may be.
The pity of it! she said, still swayed by impulse. Why did you dodidnt you knowrealize what you were doingbringing discredit on your own club?
I was in no condition to know, Miss Landis.
The crude brutality of the expression might merely have hurt or disgusted her had she been less intelligent. Nor, as it was, did she fully understand why he chose to use itunless that he meant it in self-punishment.
Its rather shameful! she said hotly.
Yes, he assented; its a bad beginning.
Abeginning! Do you mean to go on?
He did not reply; his head was partly turned from her. She sat silent for a while. The dog had returned to lie at Siwards feet, its brown eyes tirelessly watching the man it had chosen for its friend; and the man, without turning his eyes, dropped one hand on the dogs head, caressing the silky ears.
Some sentimentalist had once said that no man who cared for animals could be wholly bad. Inexperience inclined her to believe it. Then too, she had that inclination for overlooking offences committed against precept, which appears to be one of those edifying human traits peculiar to neither sex and common to both. Besides, her knowledge of such matters was as vague as her mind was healthy and body wholesome. Men who dined incautiously were not remarkable for their rarity; the actress habit, being incomprehensible to her, meant nothing; and she said, innocently: What men like you can find attractive in a common woman I do not understand; there are plenty of pretty women of your own sort. The actress cult is beyond my comprehension; I only know it is generally condoned. But it is not for such things that we drop men, Mr. Siward. You know that, of course.
For what do you drop men?
For falsehood, deception, any dishonesty.
And you dont drop a man when you read in the papers that one of the two best clubs in town has expelled him?
She gave him a troubled glance; and, naively: But you are still a member of the other, are you not? Then hardening: It was common! common!thoroughly disgraceful and incomprehensible!and with every word uttered insensibly warming in her heart toward him whom she was chastening; it was not even badit was worse than being simply bad; it was stupid!
He nodded, one hand slowly caressing the dogs head where it lay across his knees.
She watched him a moment, hesitated, then smiling a little: So now I know the worst about you; do I not? she concluded.
He did not answer; she waited, the smile still curving her red mouth. Had she been too severe? She wondered. You may help me to my feet, she said sweetly. She was very young.
He rose at once, holding out his hands to aid her in that pleasantly impersonal manner so suited to him; and now they stood together in the purple dusk of the uplandstwo people young enough to take one another seriously.
Let me tell you something, she said, facing him, white hands loosely linked behind her. I dont exactly understand how it has happened, but you know as well as I do that we have formed aan acquaintancethe sort that under normal conditions requires a long time and several conventional and preliminary chapters.... I should like to know what you think of our performance.
I think, he said laughing, that it is charming.
Oh, yes; men usually find the unconventional agreeable. What I want to know is why I find it so, too?
Do you? A dull colour stained his cheek-bones.
Certainly I do. Is it because Ive had a delightful chance to admonish a sinnerand bejust a little sorrythat he had made such a silly spectacle of himself?
He laughed, wincing a trifle.
Hence this agreeably righteous glow suffusing me, she concluded. So now that I have answered my own question, I think that we had better go. Dont you?
They walked for a while, subdued, soberly picking their path through the dusk. After a few moments she began to feel doubtful, a little uneasy, partly from a reaction which was natural, partly because she was not at all sure what either Quarrier or Major Belwether would think of the terms she was already on with Siward. Suppose they objected? She had never thwarted either of these gentlemen. Besides she already had a temporary interest in Siwardthe interest that women always cherish, quite unconsciously, for the man whose shortcomings they have consented to overlook.
As they crossed the headland, through the deepening dusk the acetylene lamps on a cluster of motor cars spread a blinding light across the scrub. The windows of Shotover House were brilliantly illuminated.
Our shooting-party has returned, she said.
They crossed the drive through the white glare of the motor lamps; people were passing, grooms with dogs and guns and fluffy bunches of game-birds, several women in motor costumes, veils afloat, a man or two in shooting-tweeds or khaki.
As they entered the hall together, she turned to him, an indefinable smile curving her lips; then, with a little nod, friendly and sweet, she left him standing at the open door of the gun-room.
CHAPTER III SHOTOVER
The first person he encountered in the gun-room was Quarrier, who favoured him with an expressionless stare, then with a bow, quite perfunctory and non-committal. It was plain enough that he had not expected to meet Siward at Shotover House.
Kemp Ferrall, a dark, stocky, active man of forty, was in the act of draining a glass, when, though the bottom he caught sight of Siward. He finished in a gulp, and advanced, one muscular hand outstretched: Hello, Stephen! Heard youd arrived, tried the Scotch, and bolted with Sylvia Landis! Thats all right, too, but you should have come for the opening day. Lots of native woodcockeh, Blinky? turning to Lord Alderdene; and again to Siward: You know all these fellowsMortimer yonder There was the slightest ring in his voice; and Leroy Mortimer, red-necked, bulky, and heavy eyed, emptied his glass and came over, followed by Lord Alderdene blinking madly though his shooting-goggles and showing all his teeth like a pointer with a tic. Captain Voucher, a gentleman with the vivid colouring of a healthy groom on a cold day, came up, followed by the Page boys, Willis and Gordon, who shook hands shyly, enchanted to be on easy terms with the notorious Mr. Siward. And last of all Tom OHara arrived, reeking of the saddle and clinking a pair of troopers spurs over the floorrelics of his bloodless Porto Rico campaign with Squadron A.
It was patent to every man present that the Kemp Ferralls had determined to ignore Siwards recent foolishness, which indicated that he might reasonably expect the continued good-will of several sets, the orbits of which intersected in the social system of his native city. Indeed, the few qualified to snub him cared nothing about the matter, and it was not likely that anybody else would take the initiative in being disagreeable to a young man, the fortunes and misfortunes of whose race were part of the history of Manhattan Island. Siwards, good or bad, were a matter of course in New York.
So everybody in the gun-room was civil enough, and he chose Scotch and found a seat beside Alderdene, who sat biting at a smoky pipe and fingering a tumbler of smokier Scotch, blinking away like mad through his shooting-goggles at everybody.
These little brown snipe you call woodcock, he began; we bagged nine brace, dyou see? But of all the damnable bogs and covers
Rotten, said Mortimer thickly; Ferrall, youre all calf and biceps, and its well enough for you to go floundering into bogs
Where do you expect to find native woodcock? demanded Ferrall, laughing.
On the table hereafter, growled Mortimer.
Oh, go and pot Beverly Planks tame pheasants, retorted Ferrall amiably; Captain Voucher had a blank day, but he isnt kicking.
Not I, said Voucher; the sport is capitalif one can manage to hit the beggars
Oh, everybody misses in snap-shooting, observed Ferrall; that is, everybody except Stephen Siward with his unholy left barrel. Crack! and, turning to Alderdene, its like taking money from you, Blinkywhich reminds me that weve time for a little Preference before dressing.
His squinting lordship declined and took an easier position in his chair, extending a pair of little bandy legs draped in baggy tweed knickerbockers and heather-spats. Mortimer, industriously distending his skin with whiskey, reached for the decanter. The aromatic perfume of the spirits aroused Siward, and he instinctively nodded his desire to a servant.
This salt air keeps one thirsty, he observed to Ferrall; then something in his hosts expression arrested the glass at his lips. He had already been using the decanter a good deal; except Mortimer, nobody was doing that sort of thing as freely as he.
He set his glass on the table thoughtfully; a tinge of colour had crept into his lean checks.
Ferrall, too, suddenly uncomfortable, stood up saying something about dressing; several men arose a trifle stiffly, feeling in every joint the result of the first days shooting after all those idle months. Mortimer got up with an unfeigned groan; Siward followed, leaving his glass untouched.
One or two other men came in from the billiard-room. All greeted Siward amiablyall excepting one who may not have seen himan elderly, pink, soft gentleman with white downy chop-whiskers and the profile of a benevolent buck rabbit.