the patrician-第14章

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Courtier　raised　his　hat。

〃Surely　it　is　not　for　me　to　be　where　you　are　not！〃　And　he　added
gloomily：　〃The　war　scare's　dead！〃

〃Ah！〃　said　Lady　Casterley：　〃your　occupation's　gone　then。　　You'll　go
back　to　London　now；　I　suppose。〃　　Looking　suddenly　at　Barbara　she　saw
that　the　girl's　eyes　were　half…closed；　and　that　she　was　smiling；　it
seemed　to　Lady　Casterley　too　or　was　it　fancy？that　she　shook　her
head。




CHAPTER　XIII

Thanks　to　Lady　Valleys；　a　patroness　of　birds；　no　owl　was　ever　shot　on
the　Monkland　Court　estate；　and　those　soft…flying　spirits　of　the　dusk
hooted　and　hunted；　to　the　great　benefit　of　all　except　the　creeping
voles。　　By　every　farm；　cottage；　and　field；　they　passed　invisible；
quartering　the　dark　air。　　Their　voyages　of　discovery　stretched　up　on
to　the　moor　as　far　as　the　wild　stone　man；　whose　origin　their　wisdom
perhaps　knew。　　Round　Audrey　Noel's　cottage　they　were　as　thick　as
thieves；　for　they　had　just　there　two　habitations　in　a　long；　old；
holly…grown　wall；　and　almost　seemed　to　be　guarding　the　mistress　of
that　thatched　dwellingso　numerous　were　their　fluttering　rushes；　so
tenderly　prolonged　their　soft　sentinel　callings。　　Now　that　the
weather　was　really　warm；　so　that　joy　of　life　was　in　the　voles；　they
found　those　succulent　creatures　of　an　extraordinarily　pleasant
flavour；　and　on　them　each　pair　was　bringing　up　a　family　of
exceptionally　fine　little　owls；　very　solemn；　with　big　heads；　bright
large　eyes；　and　wings　as　yet　only　able　to　fly　downwards。　　There　was
scarcely　any　hour　from　noon　of　the　day　（for　some　of　them　had　horns）
to　the　small　sweet　hours　when　no　one　heard　them；　that　they　forgot　to
salute　the　very　large；　quiet；　wingless　owl　whom　they　could　espy
moving　about　by　day　above　their　mouse…runs；　or　preening　her　white　and
sometimes　blue　and　sometimes　grey　feathers　morning　and　evening　in　a
large　square　hole　high　up　in　the　front　wall。　　And　they　could　not
understand　at　all　why　no　swift　depredating　graces　nor　any　habit　of
long　soft　hooting　belonged　to　that　lady…bird。

On　the　evening　of　the　day　when　she　received　that　early　morning　call；
as　soon　as　dusk　had　fallen；　wrapped　in　a　long　thin　cloak；　with　black
lace　over　her　dark　hair；　Audrey　Noel　herself　fluttered　out　into　the
lanes；　as　if　to　join　the　grave　winged　hunters　of　the　invisible　night。
Those　far；　continual　sounds；　not　stilled　in　the　country　till　long
after　the　sun　dies；　had　but　just　ceased　from　haunting　the　air；　where
the　late　May…scent　clung　as　close　as　fragrance　clings　to　a　woman's
robe。　　There　was　just　the　barking　of　a　dog；　the　boom　of　migrating
chafers；　the　song　of　the　stream；　and　of　the　owls；　to　proclaim　the
beating　in　the　heart　of　this　sweet　Night。　　Nor　was　there　any　light　by
which　Night's　face　could　be　seen；　it　was　hidden；　anonymous；　so　that
when　a　lamp　in　a　cottage　threw　a　blink　over　the　opposite　bank；　it　was
as　if　some　wandering　painter　had　wrought　a　picture　of　stones　and
leaves　on　the　black　air；　framed　it　in　purple；　and　left　it　hanging。
Yet；　if　it　could　only　have　been　come　at；　the　Night　was　as　full　of
emotion　as　this　woman　who　wandered；　shrinking　away　against　the　banks
if　anyone　passed；　stopping　to　cool　her　hot　face　with　the　dew　on　the
ferns；　walking　swiftly　to　console　her　warm　heart。　　Anonymous　Night
seeking　for　a　symbol　could　have　found　none　better　than　this　errant
figure；　to　express　its　hidden　longings；　the　fluttering；　unseen　rushes
of　its　dark　wings；　and　all　its　secret　passion　of　revolt　against　its
own　anonymity。。。。

At　Monkland　Court；　save　for　little　Ann；　the　morning　passed　but
dumbly；　everyone　feeling　that　something　must　be　done；　and　no　one
knowing　what。　　At　lunch；　the　only　allusion　to　the　situation　had　been
Harbinger's　inquiry：

〃When　does　Miltoun　return？〃

He　had　wired；　it　seemed；　to　say　that　he　was　motoring　down　that　night。

〃The　sooner　the　better；〃　Sir　William　murmured：　〃we've　still　a
fortnight。〃

But　all　had　felt　from　the　tone　in　which　he　spoke　these　words；　how
serious　was　the　position　in　the　eyes　of　that　experienced　campaigner。

What　with　the　collapse　of　the　war　scare；　and　this　canard　about　Mrs。
Noel；　there　was　indeed　cause　for　alarm。

The　afternoon　post　brought　a　letter　from　Lord　Valleys　marked　Express。

Lady　Valleys　opened　it　with　a　slight　grimace；　which　deepened　as　she
read。　　Her　handsome；　florid　face　wore　an　expression　of　sadness　seldom
seen　there。　　There　was；　in　fact；　more　than　a　touch　of　dignity　in　her
reception　of　the　unpalatable　news。

〃Eustace　declares　his　intention　of　marrying　this　Mrs。　Noel〃so　ran
her　husband's　letter〃I　know；　unfortunately；　of　no　way　in　which　I
can　prevent　him。　　If　you　can　discover　legitimate　means　of　dissuasion；
it　would　be　well　to　use　them。　　My　dear；　it's　the　very　devil。〃

It　was　the　very　devil！　　For；　if　Miltoun　had　already　made　up　his　mind
to　marry　her；　without　knowledge　of　the　malicious　rumour；　what　would
not　be　his　determination　now？　　And　the　woman　of　the　world　rose　up　in
Lady　Valleys。　　This　marriage　must　not　come　off。　　It　was　contrary　to
almost　every　instinct　of　one　who　was　practical　not　only　by　character；
but　by　habit　of　life　and　training。　　Her　warm　and　full…blooded　nature
had　a　sneaking　sympathy　with　love　and　pleasure；　and　had　she　not　been
practical；　she　might　have　found　this　side　of　her　a　serious　drawback
to　the　main　tenor　of　a　life　so　much　in　view　of　the　public　eye。　　Her
consciousness　of　this　danger　in　her　own　case　made　her　extremely　alive
to　the　risks　of　an　undesirable　connectionespecially　if　it　were　a
marriageto　any　public　man。　　At　the　same　time　the　mother…heart　in
her　was　stirred。　　Eustace　had　never　been　so　deep　in　her　affection　as
Bertie；　still　he　was　her　first…born；　and　in　face　of　news　which　meant
that　he　was　lost　to　herfor　this　must　indeed　be　'the　marriage　of　two
minds'　（or　whatever　that　quotation　was）she　felt　strangely　jealous
of　a　woman；　who　had　won　her　son's　love；　when　she　herself　had　never
won　it。　　The　aching　of　this　jealousy　gave　her　face　for　a　moment
almost　a　spiritual　expression；　then　passed　away　into　impatience。　　Why
should　he　marry　her？　　Things　could　be　arranged。　　People　spoke　of　it
already　as　an　illicit　relationship；　well　then；　let　people　have　what
they　had　invented。　　If　the　worst　came　to　the　worst；　this　was　not　the
only　constituency　in　England；　and　a　dissolution　could　not　be　far　off。
Better　anything　than　a　marriage　which　would　handicap　him　all　his
life！　　But　would　it　be　so　great　a　handicap？　　After　all；　beauty
counted　for　much！　　If　only　her　story　were　not　too　conspicuous！　　But
what　was　her　story？　　Not　to　know　it　was　absurd！　　That　was　the　worst
of　people　who　were　not　in　Society；　it　was　so　difficult　to　find　out！
And　there　rose　in　her　that　almost　brutal　resentment；　which　ferments
very　rapidly　in　those　who　from　their　youth　up　have　been　hedged　round
with　the　belief　that　they　and　they　alone　are　the　whole　of　the　world。
In　this　mood　Lady　Valleys　passed　the　letter　to　her　daughters。　　They
read；　and　in　turn　handed　it　to　Bertie；　who　in　silence　returned　it　to
his　mother。

But　that　evening；　in　the　billiard…room；　having　manoeuvred　to　get　him
to　herself；　Barbara　said　to　Courtier：

〃I　wonder　if　you　will　answer　me　a　question；　Mr。　Courtier？〃

〃If　I　may；　and　can。〃

Her　low…cut　dress　was　of　yew…green；　with；　little　threads　of　flame…
colour；　matching　her　hair；　so　that　there　was　about　her　a　splendour　of
darkness　and　whiteness　and　gold；　almost　dazzling；　and　she　stood　very
still；　leaning　back　against　the　lighter　green　of　the　billiard…table；
grasping　its　edge　so　tightly　that　the　smooth　strong　backs　of　her
hands　quivered。

〃We　have　just　heard　that　Miltoun　is　going　to　ask　Mrs。　Noel　to　marry
him。　　People　are　never　mysterious；　are　they；　without　good　reason？　　I
wanted　you　to　tell　mewho　is　she？〃

〃I　don't　think　I　quite　grasp　the　situation；〃　murmured　Courtier。　　〃You
saidto　marry　him？〃

Seeing　that　she　had　put　out　her　hand；　as　if　begging　for　the　truth；　he
added：　〃How　can　your　brother　marry　hershe's　married！〃

〃Oh！〃

〃I'd　no　idea　you　didn't　know　that　much。〃

〃We　thought　there　was　a　divorce。〃

The　expression　of　which　mention　has　been　madethat　peculiar　white…
hot　sardonically　jolly　lookvisited　Courtier's　face　at　once。　　〃Hoist
with　their　own　petard！　　The　usual　thing。　　Let　a　pretty　woman　live
alonethe　tongues　of　men　will　do　the　rest。〃

〃It　was　not　so　bad　as　that；〃　said　Barbara　dryly；　〃they　said　she　had
divorced　her　husband。〃

Caught　out　thus　characteristically　riding　past　the　hounds　Courtier
bit　his　lips。

〃You　had　better　hear　the　story　now。　　Her　father　was　a　country　parson；
and　a　friend　of　my　father's；　so　that　I've　known　her　from　a　child。
Stephen　Lees　Noel　was　his　curate。　　It　was　a　'snap'　marriageshe　was
only　twenty；　and　had　met　hardly　any　men。　　Her　father　was　ill　and
wanted　to　see　her　settled　before　he　died。　　Well；　she　found　out　almost
directly；　like　a　good　many　other　people；　that　she'd　made　an　utter
mistake。〃

Barbara　came　a　little　closer。

〃What　was　the　man　like？〃

〃Not　bad　in　his　way；　but　one　of　those　narrow；　conscientious　pig…
headed　fellows　who　make　the　most　trying　kind　of　husbandbone
egoistic。　　A　parson　of　that　type　has　no　chance　at　all。　　Every　mortal
thing　he　has　to　do　or　say　helps　him　to　develop　his　worst　points。　　The
wife　of　a　man　like　that's　no　better　than　a　slave。　　She　began　to　show
the　strain　of　it　at　last；　though　she's　the　sort　who　goes　on　till　she
snaps。　　It　took　him　four　years　to　realize。　　Then；　the　question　was；
what　were　they　to　do？　　He's　a　very　High　Churchman；　with　all　their
feeling　about　marriage；　but　luckily　his　pride　was　wounded。　　Anyway；
they　separated　two　years　ago；　and　there　she　is；　left　high　and　dry。
People　say　it　was　her　fault。　　She　ought　to　have　known　her　own　mind
at　twenty！　　She　ought　to　have　held　on　and　hidden　it　up　somehow。
Confound　their　thick…skinned　charitable　souls；　what　do　they　know　of
how　a　sensitive　woman　suffers？　　Forgive　me；　Lady　BarbaraI　get　hot
over　this。〃　　He　was　silent；　then　seeing　her　eyes　fixed　on　him；　went
on：　〃Her　mother　died　when　she　was　born；　her　father　soon　after　her
marriage。　　She's　enough　money　of　her　own；　luckily；　to　live　on
quietly。　　As　for　him；　he　changed　his　parish　and　runs　one　somewhere　in
the　Midlands。　　One's　sorry　for　the　poor　devil；　too；　of　course！　　They
never　see　each　other；　and；　so　far　as　I　know；　they　don't　correspond。
That；　Lady　Barbara；　is　the　simple　history。〃

Barbara；　said；　〃Thank　you；〃　and　turned　away；　and　he　heard　her　mutter：
〃What　a　shame！〃

But　he　could　not　tell　whether　it　was　Mrs。　Noel's　fate；　or　the
husband's　fate；　or　the　thought　of　Miltoun　that　had　moved　her　to　those
words。

She　puzzled　him　by　her　self…possession；　so　almost　hard；　her　way　of
refusing　to　show　feeling。'　Yet　what　a　woman　she　would　make　if　the
drying　curse　of　high…caste　life　were　not　allowed　to　stereotype　and
shrivel　her！　　If　enthusiasm　were　suffered　to　penetrate　and　fertilize
her　soul！　　She　reminded　him　of　a　great　tawny　lily。　　He　had　a　vision
of　her；　as　that　flower；　floating；　freed　of　roots　and　the　mould　of　its
cultivated　soil；　in　the　liberty　of　the　impartial　air。　　What　a
passionate　and　noble　thing　she　might　become！　　What　radiance　and
perfume　she　would　exhale！　　A　spirit　Fleur…de…Lys！　　Sister　to　all　the
noble　flowers　of　light　that　inhabited　the　wind！

Leaning　in　the　deep　embrasure　of　his　window；　he　looked　at