The Dust of Conflict Part 31

Nettie contrived to hide her astonishment, but she felt that another thread was being placed in her hand.

"Well," she said, "American young women are permitted to talk to gilt- edge Englishmen, and even to marry them now and then. It really isn't astonis.h.i.+ng."

"No," said her companion. "Still, it would be a blunder for an American girl who hadn't seen many Englishmen to marry Tony Palliser."

Nettie felt a thrill of pleasurable excitement, and her little show of anger was very well a.s.sumed.

"Are you quite sure you ought to talk to me like that?" she said.

"Yes. You will understand what I mean when I tell you that I was Lucy Davidson. I fancied some of the people here would have recognized me, but it seems they haven't."

"Oh!" said Nettie sharply, and sat still, wondering what meaning she was to attach to this since she had never heard of Lucy Davidson, until her companion leaned forward a trifle.

"I have told n.o.body else, but it was not Bernard Appleby who came to meet me at Northrop lodge," she said.

Nettie's gasp of astonishment was perfectly genuine this time, for though the story Appleby had told her had been very vague in respect to the part played by Lucy Davidson she had been able to supply the deficiencies in it, and she was sure of her companion now.

"And you let them think-how could you?" she said with flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

Miss Clavier was evidently almost as astonished as her listener, but she had committed herself.

"It was too late to do any good by speaking when I heard they suspected him-and I was just a little fond of Tony once," she said. "Of course, he wasn't worth it-he never was-and that's why I tried to warn you. You made me feel you wanted to be kind to me."

Nettie laughed a little, almost scornfully. "Now, I don't know if that was nice of you. If you only meant to punish Mr. Palliser it wasn't."

Miss Clavier's face was faintly flushed all over now, but she regarded her companion steadily. "I don't quite know why I did it-but it wasn't altogether to make Tony smart," she said. "It was, at least, a little because I seemed to feel you were too good for him. Oh, I know I have done a good deal of harm-and it's a change to do the other thing now and then. I don't want Tony. Any one can have him and welcome-they'll get a very poor bargain, and I wouldn't like you to think I meant to pluck him-though that would have been easy."

"No," said Nettie, "I did not think that of you. What did you mean to do with him?"

"I don't know. To amuse myself by watching him wriggle, I think. It was nice to feel I could frighten him horribly. If you had been like the rest, and he had only shown me a little kindness, I fancy I would have let him go. But he couldn't do the right thing if it would cost him a trifle-he hasn't it in him; and he made me believe you meant to marry him."

"No," said Nettie, with a faint ring in her voice. "The man I'm going to marry is worth-several hundred Tony Pallisers. Still, I'm glad you told me, and you'll tell me the rest of the story."

Miss Clavier sat still for at least a minute, and then obeying an impulse told her tale. Her voice was also a little strained as she said, "Clavier was bad-bad all through-and he left me before he died in Melbourne; but though my father never knew it I was married to him all the time. I found the-'Madame'-a disadvantage."

Then there was silence until a burst of applause greeted the conclusion of the song; and while the two sat in the shadows Nettie Harding laid her hand sympathetically on her companion's arm.

XX - FOUND GUILTY

TWO or three weeks had pa.s.sed since the concert on the Low Wood lawn, and Therese Clavier had gone back into the obscurity she came from, when Nettie Harding once more stood beside the effigy in Northrop church. It was then late in the afternoon, and the little ancient building was growing shadowy. Hester Earle and Violet Wayne were moving about the aisle with bundles of wheat-ears and streamers of ivy, for the harvest thanksgiving was shortly to be celebrated, while the vicar stood waiting their directions on the chancel steps with a great handful of crimson gladioli.

Nettie, however, noticed none of them. She was lost in reflection, and her eyes were fixed on the grim stone face. She had gazed at it often with a vague sense of comprehension and a feeling that the contemplation of it brought within her grasp the spirit of the chivalrous past.

Loyalty, she felt, was the predominative motive in the sculptured face, though it bore the stamp of stress and weariness; and she stood very still struggling with a half-formed resolution as she gazed at it.

Hester's voice rose softly from the aisle, and there was a patter of feet and swish of draperies, but it was low, as though the girl who made it felt the silence of the place. The door beside the organ was open wide, and Nettie could hear a faint rustle of moving leaves, and the sighing of a little warm wind about the church, while, lifting her head, she caught a brief glimpse of the dusky beech woods and sunlit valley.

It was all very still, impressively quiet, and she felt the peace of it; but it was not peace, but something born of strife and yet akin to it her fancy strained after, and once more she seemed to hear the strident crackle of riflery and the shouts of the Sin Verguenza. The green English valley faded, and she saw in place of it the white walls of the Cuban town rise against the dusky indigo. Then once more she could dimly realize the calm that came of a high purpose, and was beyond and greater than the peace of prosperity. She had seen it beneath the stress and weariness in the faces of the marble knight and a living man.

Then with a little swift move of her shoulders she shook off the fancies, and fell to considering the task which it seemed was laid before her. She had made a friend of Bernard Appleby and that meant much with her; while ever since she had heard Miss Clavier's story the desire to right him had been growing stronger, but she had unpleasant misgivings. She felt the responsibility of breaking the smooth course of other lives almost too great for her, and wondered vaguely whether if she declared the truth in that sheltered land where nothing that was startling or indecorous ever seemed to happen anybody would believe her.

She might even have kept silent had Violet Wayne been different, but Nettie already entertained an affection that was largely respectful for her, and determined that if she married Tony Palliser she should at least do so knowing what kind of man he was. Once more, however, her resolution almost failed her, and she glanced at the great glittering angel in the west window with a sense of her presumption in venturing to meddle with the great scheme of destiny. Still, Nettie was daring, and turning suddenly she looked down into the stone face again.

"I think you would understand, and at least you would not be afraid.

Well, the man who is very like you shall have his rights," she said.

The stillness seemed to grow more intense, the calm face more resolute, while the spirit of the dead sculptor's conception gripped the girl as it had never done before. She felt that her duty was plain before her, and that fears and misgivings must be trampled on. Then there was a step behind her, and she saw Hester looking at her with a little smile.

"Were you talking to the effigy, Nettie?" she said.

"Yes," said Nettie quietly. "I think I was. There is no reason you shouldn't laugh if you want to, but I seem to fancy that man understands me. What you will not believe, however, is that he answered me."

Hester appeared a trifle astonished, but she smiled again. "I saw you turn and look at the figure in the west window," she said. "Were you holding communion with the angel too?"

"No," said Nettie with a curious naive gravity. "I'm quite open to admit I don't know much about angels-I've only seen pictures of them. Still, I sometimes think there's a little of their nature in the hearts of men.

That man must have had it, and the Palliser who was killed in Africa had it too. Of course, that's not the kind of talk you would expect from an American."

Hester realized by the last trace of irony that Nettie did not desire to pursue the topic, and looking round saw that the vicar had joined them un.o.bserved. He was a quiet man with an ascetic face, but there was a little twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes," he said. "I admit I overheard. It seems to me that Miss Harding's att.i.tude is perfectly comprehensible."

Hester laughed. "That," she said, "is convincing, coming from you. In the meanwhile I am positively thirsty, and tea will be waiting at Low Wood. You may as well come over with us now since we expect you at dinner."

It was, however, half an hour later when they left the rectory and walked through the fields to Low Wood with Tony, who had been waiting them. Nettie laughed and talked to the vicar with her usual freedom, but she was also sensible of a quiet resolution. Violet Wayne should know the truth and Appleby's name be cleared, but she was shrewd, and saw the difficulty of attesting it convincingly. She was also very fair, and decided that Tony must have an opportunity of defending himself or admitting his offence. Now and then she felt her heart throbbing as she wondered whether she would fail at her task, but she shook off her misgivings, and it was only afterwards the vicar guessed at the struggle that went on within his companion.

They were sitting about the little table on the lawn when an opportunity was made for her, and the scene long remained impressed on Nettie's memory. The old house showed cool and gray between its wrappings of creepers that were flecked with saffron now, while here and there a tendril gleamed warm crimson against the stone. Its long shadow lay black upon the velvet gra.s.s, and there were ruddy gleams from the woodlands from which the yellow light was fading beyond the moss-crusted wall. Still, the river shone dazzlingly where it came rippling out of the gloom of a copse, and a long row of windows blinked in the building beside its bank.

Nettie noticed this vacantly, for it was Tony and Violet Wayne she was looking at. The man lay with a curious languid gracefulness in his chair, his straw hat on the back of his head and a smile on his lips, though Nettie fancied that she saw care in his face. Violet sat erect looking down the valley with thoughtful eyes, and though every line of her figure suggested quiet composure it seemed to Nettie that her face was a trifle too colorless, and that her big gray eyes lacked brightness. She could almost fancy that the shadow of care which rested on Tony had touched his sweetheart too. Opposite them sat the vicar, who had, Nettie understood, been a close friend of the Pallisers, and Hester Earle was busy with her spirit kettle close beside him. The latter looked up suddenly.

"I can't help thinking that the Americans are a somewhat inconsistent people," she said. "It is only a little while since Nettie fancied herself a torpedo, and yet I found her explaining her sentiments to the marble knight this afternoon."

"Well," said Nettie with a little smile, though she could feel her heart beating, "I feel more like a torpedo than ever just now."

Hester nodded. "That is more or less comprehensible," she said. "A torpedo is an essentially modern thing stored with potential activities and likely to go off and startle everybody when they least expect it, all of which is characteristically American. The marble knight-and I fancy some people would include the angel-belongs to the past, to the old knightly days when women were wors.h.i.+pped, men believed in saints and guardian angels, and faith wrought miracles."

The vicar glanced at Nettie as he said, "Extremes meet now and then."

"Well," said Nettie, "women are made much of in my country still, even by impecunious Englishmen who claim descent from men who did their share in those days of chivalry. That is, when they have money enough, but just now I'm not going to be too p.r.i.c.kly. You haven't much voice, Hester, but you sing that little jingly song about the fairies quite prettily, and the notion it's hung upon gets hold of me. I can feel it better in Northrop church than anywhere. You know what I mean. There is very little to keep us out of fairyland. You have but to touch with your finger tips the ivory gate and golden!"

"If Hester understands your meaning I admit that it's more than I do,"

said Tony.

"Still," said Nettie naively, "I didn't think you would. You have too many possessions, and, you see, there are limitations in the song. You might knock a long while at those ivory gates before they let you in."

There was a little laughter, in which Tony joined, and the vicar said, "Excellent! He deserved it. Please don't stop. Miss Harding."

"That's not necessary," said Hester. "Once Nettie gets started she generally, as she would express it, goes straight through."