Gates of Dawn (17 page)

Read Gates of Dawn Online

Authors: Susan Barrie

BOOK: Gates of Dawn
6.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He stood up at once and came towards her. He took her hands and held them while he looked down at her, his eyes almost tenderly teasing and faintly concerned at the same time, while he received the impression that she looked a trifle wan.


That

s the nicest thing I

ve ever had said to me!

he told her, and put her in low chair drawn up close to the fire. He arranged one of the comfortable velvet cushions at her back, placed a footstool for her small feet to rest on, and then produced his cigarette-case and offered her a cigarette.

When it was lighted she lay back and looked up at him with a certain amount of perplexity.


Once again you didn

t let us know you were coming,

she accused him gently.


Oh, but I did,

he assured her.

Mrs. Abbie knew I was coming—I spoke to her last night on the telephone. And the doctor knew I was coming. Only you were not aware of it.

Melanie recalled Mrs. Abbie

s faintly mysterious air when she had brought her her tea, and realized that they had entered into a conspiracy. But it was a very pleasant conspiracy, and she felt a little warm glow of contentment deep down inside her as she looked up at him standing so close to her on the rug, and saw how his eyes dwelt upon her. A little rosy glow of color stole into her cheeks, and she felt unable to meet his intent gaze for long. She lowered her eyelashes, and they formed smooth, dark half circles on the delicate surface of her skin.


Ah, that

s better!

he exclaimed, with satisfaction.

You look more like yourself now. Before, you were so pale that I hardly knew you, but I

m not in the least surprised, since you were up half the night. But Noel seems to have turned the corner all right—thanks, or so I am informed, largely to you! And in a day or so there

s a specialist fellow coming from town to examine her thoroughly. If there

s any sort of inherited weakness, which Crofts suspects, we

ve got to deal with it, and not leave it until it

s too late.

Melanie nodded.


I agree,

she said.

Noel

s fragility has always concerned me a great deal, but she

s so young that I

m sure it can be dealt with.

Mrs. Abbie came in with the tea-trolley, and her smile as she looked towards them in the fireglow made Melanie aware that she was actually feeling rather pleased about something. It suddenly struck her that the pleasure she
w
as experiencing was connected with her master

s return home,
unaccompanied by any of his friends,
and the fact that he appeared to be very ready and willing to wait upon the girl in the green dress, who already looked that much happier herself.

It was rather like the few days before Christmas, only nicer. Decidedly nicer—and more promising!—Mrs. Abbie said to herself inwardly.

When she had left the room Melanie was further amazed to hear Richard agree to accept a cup of tea when she offered it to him, and he even risked sampling one of the small cakes. She said very demurely,

I thought you didn

t take tea, Mr
.
Trenchard!—at least, only on those occasions when you find yourself more or less forced to do so!


That

s true,

he agreed, directing an almost schoolboy grin at her.

But then I

m rapidly becoming much more domesticated since I found myself in possession of the Wold House. I actually felt that London was dull when I returned to it a few days ago, and that, I assure you, is extraordinary—even more extraordinary than taking afternoon tea!


But ought you to have left it just now?

she inquired, more seriously.

You were going to be so very busy, and there is your new play on the fourteenth? You

ll return for that, of course?


I don

t know,

he answered, producing his pipe and stuffing it full of tobacco.

I haven

t yet made up my mind. And I

ve got a kind of feeling that I could work here

once this problem of Noel is settled. I don

t like thinking of the poor kid being ill. She

s such a little scrap, and so extraordinary dependent. But one of these days, when she

s outgrown her present tendency to ill-health, she

s going to be a howling beauty.

Melanie was able fully to agree with this prophesy, but although he did not mention it she wondered whether he thought of Miss Gaythorpe

s contribution towards the unfortunate Noel

s present bout of illness, and whether he experienced the mildest form of contrition because he had accused her, Melanie, of coddling his niece! But, if he did, he was not going to admit to it just yet.

That night she had dinner with him alone in the dining
room, and after dinner he visited Noel. But only for a few minutes. And when he came downstairs to the library again he seemed so grave and quiet that Melanie at first thought that Noel must be worse, until he reassured her by telling her that Noel was decidedly better, and that she was asking for Melanie to go up to her. Melanie stood up at once and started to move towards the door.

Her employer stopped her.


Don

t stay longer than a quarter of an hour,

he said.

The night-nurse is with her, and she

s quite comfortable.

But,

he added, with a fierceness unlike him,

I can

t help attributing all that to that crazy idea of skating by moonlight. In a climate such as this! I ought to have put my foot down, but—The trouble with Miss Gaythorpe is that she doesn

t always stop to think. And she can be remarkably persuasive on occasion!

He threw his cigarette into the fire, and watched the tiny flame which leapt up as it was consumed by the blaze. Melanie felt that faint chill of apprehension strike her which always did strike her when it was abruptly borne in on her that the lovely, red-headed film star had an undoubted attraction for him. And she was quite sure Sylvia knew how to make the most of her powers of persuasion! At least, where Richard Trenchard was concerned.


Good night,

she said, thinking he might not wish her to return to the library that night, but he looked up at once.


Not good night yet,

he said.

It

s early. Come back and talk to me. Or, better still—do you play chess?


Yes,

she answered, almost eagerly.

I used to play a lot with my father.


Good!

he exclaimed.

Then you can now play with me!

And although it sounded more
i
n the nature of a command she went up the stairs to Noel

s room with a lighter step than she had known for several days, and her heart was actually singing a little inside her. Which she knew to be entirely absurd.

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

PERHAPS to make up for the severity of the Christmas weather spring came early—or there was a deceptive touch of spring in the mild quality of the early February days. Melanie discovered aconites in a sheltered corner of the garden, and snowdrops, and she, gathered some and took them indoors for Noel to see. Noel had been a prisoner confined to the house all through January, and she was growing a little weary of not being allowed out into the sudden bursts of pale, exciting sunshine. To her, from the windows, the terrace, and the shrubberies, and the lawn where the sundial stood—and the orchard where Peter loved to root up the daffodil bulbs from amongst the coarse grass whenever the occasion offered, and no one was looking—represented a freedom which was now temporarily denied her. But on the whole she kept very cheerful, and she certainly never complained.

Melanie always experienced a kind of pang whenever she looked at her these days, for Noel

s face was so white and thin, and her blue eyes wistful. She was much more fragile than when Melanie had first set eyes on her, and that distressing little
cough was much more frequent. Her hands had a blue-veined transparency which sometimes frightened Melanie, and she knew that her employer was watching his niece closely.

The specialist from London had seen her and examined her twice, at intervals of a few weeks, and after the last visit he and Dr. Crofts and Richard Trenchard had had a conference in the library. Melanie waited for them to come out and the doctors

cars to drive away, and in order to while away the time she exercised Peter up and down the length of the terrace, in a gentle zephyr of a wind which brought the healthy color to her cheeks and made her eyes appear extraordinarily clear.

Under the shelter of the terrace all sorts of little green shoots were rising to the surface, and there was actually a tiny specimen of a wallflower in bloom against the terrace wal
l
. And the pale celandines were brightening the hedge which shut in the kitchen-garden.

Melanie looked across the lawn to the sundial, and beyond that to a patch of climbing woodland, slightly below the level of the fells, and she thought that in a few weeks the blue
b
ells would lie there in sheets of mauve. In a few weeks, too, the orchard would be a sea of foaming pink and white blossom, and the dull brown of the moors which hemmed them in would be giving place to new and tender green, with starry-eyed wildflowers amongst last year

s bracken gazing up at the rain-washed spring skies.

In a few weeks this bleak north country would come to life in a way she knew and a way she loved. But whether she would still be here to witness the miracle she had no idea.

She looked up as footsteps crunched on the path, and her employer joined her. It seemed remarkable to her that for so many weeks now he had been content to remain at the Wold House, and despite, as she knew, frequent telephone calls from Sylvia, and probably letters as well,
his
determination not to return to London yet awhile appeared to be unshaken.

This morning, despite a certain gravity of expression, resulting from the visit of the specialist, he looked up at the sun and crinkled his eyes in its warm glare. He inhaled the moist scents of the garden, too, as if he was beginning to be aware of the advantages of possessing a few acres of his own.


I

ve been thinking,

he said, as he lightly took her arm and propelled her across the lawn where a few intrepid daisies were beginning to show their heads,

that there is a great deal to be done here, and the sooner Rawlins

—the gardener—

gets down to it, the better. I

m going to have this lawn entirely relaid, and I

m thinking of having a tennis lawn as well. And then I want to rescue the rose-garden. At the moment it

s so choked with weeds that I can

t imagine any single bloom daring to raise its head above the brambles.

She looked up at him as he kept his fingers lightly beneath her elbow, and their pressure increased slightly as they approached the head of a flight of steps leading down to the sunken rose-garden he was obviously interested in.


Then you do feel that you can settle here? You like the house and the grounds?


I like it very much—much more than I anticipated when I bought it!

She was silent. She wondered whether his liking had grown since Sylvia

s visit, and whether it was Sylvia

s idea that the place should be brought completely up-to-date and money expended on its gardens.


How about you? he inquired, looking down at her curiously.

You

re a country-loving young woman, or so you told me once
.
Haven

t you any enthusiasm to spare for this place?


I? Oh, I simply love it
!

Her brown eyes sparkled so much as she uttered the words that he was entirely convinced of her sincerity.

But it

s not my house, is it?

rather more flatly.


No.

he agreed, speaking very slowly, and warning her at the same time to be careful of the crumbling brickwork of the steps.

And I suppose that makes a difference. Possession is something which sends a kind of comforting glow to the heart.


My possessions at the moment are not great,

she told him simply.

The whole lot could be crammed into a suitcase with the utmost ease.


Is that so?

he murmured, after a moment of silence.

Well, that, at least, is something to be thankful for, for you are never likely to find yourself encumbered, and you can move about from place to place with the maximum of convenience. At one time I used to think that to be free and unencumbered was all that I demanded of life, but nowadays I

m not so sure!

Melanie

s heart gave a kind of queer jolt inside her.
She,
apparently, was to welcome the thought of her mobility—perhaps she was going to be called on to move on from here very soon!—but
he
was beginning to take pleasure in the thought of sending out roots!


I

m not so sure,

he repeated, watching a tiny merlin falcon hovering in the air above them, its yellowish underparts and barred black wings noticeable against the soft blue of the sky.

I think it

s rather a better idea to know exactly what one wants out of life, and to go after it and secure it—like that hawk above us, who

s just about to pounce on some unoffending fieldmouse or baby rabbit and transfer it to its own inside, or possibly the inside of one of its youngsters!

Melanie looked upwards automatically, and blinked in the warm sun

s rays.


Poor fieldmouse;

she murmured suddenly, with feeling.

It

s simply fulfilling a function so far as the hawk is concerned, and when it

s no longer in existence the hawk will pounce on another which happens to catch his eye, and that, too, will be abruptly exterminated.

She was thinking of herself as the first unfortunate creature, but there was no question of Sylvia Gaythorpe being passed over for another! And to do him justice he had never treated her as anything but an employee—save when he looked at her occasionally in a way which caused her heart to miss a beat, and she wondered whether he could read aright the confusion in her eyes. But possibly she was more clever at masking her feelings than she realized.

They were out on the white moorland road now, and he continued to propel her gently forward, with his hand underneath her elbow. They deserted the road for the crisp brown of the dead heather, and he paused to watch the light dancing in the trickling stream, and to study their reflections in an open pool. There were some boulders near at hand and he sank down on one, inviting her to do the same. He passed her his cigarette-case, and when both their cigarettes were alight he said, with a change of tone,

I want to discuss Noel.

Melanie became all at once acutely interested, and vaguely apprehensive.


Yes?

she said.


The doctors have decided that she must be sent away. They suggest Switzerland.


Oh!

said Melanie, and felt the color begin to ebb from her cheeks.

He glanced at her rather keenly.


Oh, it

s nothing precisely to worry about. That is to say she can be cured. She had a spot on one lung which must be dealt with, and this bleak northern air, which I imagined might have helped to set her up, is apparently no place in which to begin to deal with it. The London fellow suggested a sanatorium, and then he changed his mind and said that that might not be necessary so long as she was in the right atmosphere. And Crofts agreed with him. They both think Noel is a rather hyper-sensitive type who might not do too well in a sanatorium.


I see,

Melanie murmured slowly.

Then what do they suggest?


That she be sent away with someone who can keep an eye on her—someone she knows. I suggested you, of course. Would you be willing?

Melanie did not answer him immediately. Oddly enough, although she had been greatly relieved to hear that the specialist

s opinion of Noel

s health was not as grave as she had sometimes feared it might be—although, certainly, it was grave enough—it was not with Noel that her thoughts stayed in those moments while her employer

s eyes were on her, watching her contemplatively above the glowing end of his
cigarette. It was purely her own reactions to the idea of being sent away yet again from a spot to which she had temporarily attached herself, and which, in the case of the Wold House, was more than a temporary attachment, which occupied her mind to the exclusion of everything else. So this was it, she thought! This was the explanation of that strange, rather wistful feeling she had had while she waited for him on the terrace, and her thoughts went winging ahead to the warmer days just round the corner when the bluebells would carpet the floor of the woods, and the apple blossom foam in the orchard! She was not to see it all, after all! She was to be sent away!


Well?

he inquired, as he watched her, and the smoke from his cigarette crept upwards and acted as a screen between her and his t
h
ickly lashed eyes.

She said slowly, at last,

Of course—if you think I can be depended upon to take adequate care of her? That is to say, the right
kind
of care of her?

He knew by that what she was thinking, and a tiny smile curved his lips.


And not coddle her, you mean? It was rather a stupid thing to accuse you of, wasn

t it, and I apologize to you here and now. You have so much more sense in that grave little head of yours than most people would give you credit for that I ought to have known you were following the right course.


It

s the only course with anyone as delicate as Noel,

Melanie said.

Later on, when she

s stronger, will be the time to toughen her.


Quite,

he agreed.

And having admitted as much, will you now agree quite definitely to go with Noel to Austria?
Because we ought not to waste any tim
e—”


Austria?

she said quickly, interrupting him.

But I thought you said Switzerland?


So I did, but I happen to have a chalet in a part of Austria where the air and the benefits will be just as great as Switzerland. In fact, it

s very close to a winter sports centre, and one of the most beautiful spots in the world. I

ve spent many months there in the spring—and right on through the summer sometimes—working as I

ve never worked anywhere in this country. Possibly it

s the altitude, and the flowers—and once you

ve seen them, spreading like a wave through the valleys as soon as the snows go, you

ll forget all about these poor little anaemic blossoms over here!—or the sense of remoteness and exquisite peace, I don

t know, but whatever it is it

s entirely unique, that

s why I keep on the chalet.


It sounds nice,

she said, because she felt that that was what was expected of her.


It

s more than nice,

he assured her

Not that the chalet is luxurious, but you

ll find it sufficiently comfortable. And there

s an excellent woman called Trudi who acts as caretaker there, and her brother lives down in the valley and goes up and helps her in the daytime. You won

t have much company, but you

ll be well looked after, and I envy you the chance to
get
away there now.


Then why don

t you come with us?

her heart cried, but she realized that although he had left Sylvia for a few weeks to remain up here in the north he could never go as far away from her as Austria, even if it was as wonderful as he described it.

An elegant car came along the road, driven sedately by a sedate woman driver, and Mrs. Duplessis pulled up and looked at them smilingly.


Hello!

she called.

You two look quite matey sitting there in the sunshine!

Richard stood up. He thought that his
s
ister

s eyes had a new, meaning lo
ok
which he disliked, and he said coldly,

Miss Brooks and I were just discussing Noel.


Oh, yes?

she inquired.

How is she?


I

m sending her abroad on the advice of the doctor.


Which doctor? Crofts? And where do you mean by

abroad

?


Zindenbo
u
rg, to the chalet. And Miss Brooks is going with her.

Mrs. Duplessis elevated her finely plucked eyebrows and looked somewhat quizzically at Melanie.


Poor Melanie! On the move again! But it

ll be slightly more cheerful than t
h
e Wold House. You

ll be able to learn to ski, and there

s quite a jolly little hotel near the chalet where they have frequent dances.

Richard

s voice sounded colder than ever as he disposed of these possible advantages.


You

re talking about the season, my dear—Noel and Melanie are goi
ng
out
of season, and for Noel

s health.


Oh, of course.

But his sister regarded him still with that somewhat annoying smile and a look which conveyed the impression that she felt she was in possession of a secret, and for some reason it amused her.

However, don

t forget Melanie is not yet in her dotage, and a little relaxation now and then is good for us all. Don

t let him turn you into a kind of nurse-companion, Melanie, my dear—have a little fun whenever the opportunity comes your way! Remember your youth and what is due to it!

She started up her car.

Au revoir, my children—I must be on my way!

Other books

Double Eagle by Dan Abnett
Big Fat Disaster by Beth Fehlbaum
The Dark Ones by Smith, Bryan
Double Jeopardy by Bobby Hutchinson
Dark Magick by Cate Tiernan