The Firing Line Part 55

"Yes."

"The writing--you knew it?... Answer me, s.h.i.+ela."

"Yes, I knew it."

Virginia lay very still for a while, then covered her face with both hands.

"Oh, my dear, my dear!" breathed s.h.i.+ela, bending close beside her.

Virginia lay motionless for a moment, then uncovered her face.

"It is strange," she said, in a colourless, almost inaudible voice. "You see I am simply helpless--dependent on your mercy.... Because a woman does not faint over--nothing."

The deep distress in s.h.i.+ela's eyes held her silent for a s.p.a.ce. She looked back at her, then her brooding gaze s.h.i.+fted to the laden branches overhead, to the leafy vistas beyond, to the ground where the golden fruit lay burning in the red, level rays of the western sun.

"I did not know he was married," she said vacantly.

Swift anger burned in s.h.i.+ela's cheeks.

"He was a coward not to tell you--"

"He was honourable about it," said Virginia, in the same monotonous voice. "Do you think I am shameless to admit it? Perhaps I am, but it is fairer to him. As you know this much, you should know the truth. And the truth is that he has never said he loved me."

Her face had become pinched and ghastly, but her mouth never quivered under this final humiliation.

"Did you ever look upon a more brazen and defenceless woman--" she began--and then very quietly and tearlessly broke down in s.h.i.+ela's tender arms, face hidden on the young girl's breast.

And s.h.i.+ela's heart responded pa.s.sionately; but all she could find to say was: "Dear--I know--indeed, indeed I know--believe me I know and understand!" And all she could do was to gather the humbled woman into her arms until, her grief dry-spent, Virginia raised her head and looked at s.h.i.+ela with strange, quenched, tearless eyes.

"We women are very helpless, very ignorant," she said, "even the worst of us. And I doubt if in all our lives we are capable of the harm that one man refrains from doing for an hour.... And that, I think, is our only compensation.... What theirs may be I do not know.... Dear, I am perfectly able to go, now.... I think I see your mother coming."

They walked together to the terrace where Mrs. Cardross had just arrived in the motor; and s.h.i.+ela, herself shaken, wondered at the serene poise with which Virginia sustained ten minutes of commonplaces and then made her final adieux, saying that she was leaving on the morning train.

"May we not see each other in town?" she added amiably; and, to s.h.i.+ela: "You will let me know when you come North? I shall miss you until you come."

Mrs. Cardross sent her back in the motor, a trifle surprised at any intimacy between s.h.i.+ela and Virginia. She asked a frank question or two and then retired to write to Mrs. Carrick, who, uneasy, had at last gone North to find out what financial troubles were keeping both her husband and her father so long away from this southland that they loved so well.

Hamil, who was to leave for the North with his aunt and Virginia early next morning, returned from the forest about sundown, reeking as usual of the saddle, and rested a moment against the terrace bal.u.s.trade watching Mrs. Cardross and s.h.i.+ela over their tea.

"That boy is actually ill," said the sympathetic matron. "Why don't you give him some tea, s.h.i.+ela? Or would you rather have a little wine and a biscuit, Garret--?"

"And a few pills," added s.h.i.+ela gravely. "I found a box of odds and ends--powders, pills, tablets, which he might as well finish--"

"s.h.i.+ela! Garret is _ill!_"

Hamil, busy with his Madeira and biscuit, laughed. He could not realise he was on the eve of leaving, nor could s.h.i.+ela.

"Never," said he to the anxious lady, "have I felt better in my life; and I'm sure it is due to your medicines. It's all very well for s.h.i.+ela to laugh at quinine; mosquitoes don't sting her. But I'd probably be an item in one of those phosphate beds by this time if you hadn't taken care of me."

s.h.i.+ela laughed; Hamil in excellent humour went off to dress. Everybody seemed to be in particularly good spirits that evening, but later, after dinner, Gray spoke complainingly of the continued absence of his father.

"As for Acton Carrick, he's the limit," added Gray disgustedly. "He hasn't been here this winter except for a day or two, and then he took the train from Miami straight through to New York. I say, Hamil, you'll look him up and write us about him, won't you?"

s.h.i.+ela looked at Hamil.

"Do you understand anything about financial troubles?" she asked in a bantering voice.

"I've had some experience with my own," he said.

"Well, then, what is the matter with the market?"

"Shall I whisper it?"

"If you are prepared to rhyme it. I dare you!"

It was the rule of the house that anybody was privileged to whisper at table provided they put what they had to communicate into rhyme.

So he thought busily a moment, then leaned over very gravely and whispered close to her ear:

"Tis money makes the market go; When money's high the market's low; When money's low the market's right, And speculators sleep at night.

But, dear, there is another mart, Where ticks the ticker called my heart; And there exhaustless funds await, To back my bankrupt trust in Fate; For you will find, as I have found, The old, old logic yet is sound, And love still makes the world go round."

"I always knew it," said s.h.i.+ela contemptuously.

"Knew what, dear?" asked her mother, amused.

"That Mr. Hamil writes those sickening mottoes for Christmas crackers."

"There are pretty ones in them--sometimes," said Cecile, reminiscently spearing a big red strawberry which resembled the popular and conventional conception of a fat human heart.

Gray, still serious, said: "Unless we are outside of the danger zone I think father ought to teach me something about business."

"If we blow up," observed Cecile, "I'll do clever monologues and support everybody. I'd like that. And s.h.i.+ela already writes poetry--"

"Nonsense!" said s.h.i.+ela, very pink.

"s.h.i.+ela! You do!"

"I did in school--" turning pinker under Hamil's tormenting gaze.

"And you do yet! I found an attempt on the floor--in your flowing penmans.h.i.+p," continued the pitiless younger sister. "What is there to blush about? Of course Phil and I were not low enough to read it, but I'll bet it was about somebody we all know! Do you want to bet--Garry?"

"Cecile!" said her mother mildly.

"Yes, mother--I forgot that I'm not allowed to bet, but if I was--"

s.h.i.+ela, exasperated, looked at her mother, who shook her head and rose from the table, taking Hamil's arm.