The Vision of Desire Part 19

A couple of labourers, pa.s.sing at the moment, lent a hand in pulling the car to one side, and when this was accomplished Ann made a raid on the tool box.

"No, no," the owner of the car protested quickly. "I can't think of letting you do anything more. Even if you put things right," she added, smiling, "I shouldn't have the nerve to drive back. The car spun half round when the tyre burst, and nearly frightened me to death."

"In any case, I'm afraid there's nothing that I can do," replied Ann, emerging from her investigations. "You've come out without a jack on board!"

The other, detecting the amused gleam in her eyes, laughed rather ruefully.

"I dare say I've come out without _anything_ I ought to have!" she admitted. "My chauffeur was sent for hurriedly to the death-bed of his wife's aunt or some one, and I just thought I'd come out for a spin this afternoon and explore the neighbourhood. I never prepared for accidents! I shall have to walk home, that's all."

"Have you far to go?"

"I live at the Priory. I've only recently arrived there--hence my thirst for exploration"--smiling.

"Then you must be Mrs. Hilyard." Ann felt she had known it all the time.

"Yes"--pleasantly. "I'm Mrs. Hilyard. Are you one of my new neighbours?"

"A very new one," confessed Ann. "I believe I arrived the same day that you did. I'm Ann Lovell."

Apparently the name Lovell conveyed nothing to Mrs. Hilyard. Probably she possessed no equivalent of Maria, who was almost as full of current news as the local daily paper.

"Well, I'm very grateful to you for coming to my help. My chauffeur gets back this evening, and I'll send him down for the car. It will be all right here till then."

She bowed very graciously, and was turning away when Ann impulsively detained her.

"Don't walk back," she said. "Let me drive you home in my cart. Our cottage is close by, and if you'd let us give you some tea first--"

"Now, that's what I call being really neighbourly!" declared Mrs. Hilyard.

"I'd love the cup of tea. But I can't put you to the trouble of driving me back afterwards. There must be a limit to Good Samaritanism, you know!"

"It won't be the least trouble," Ann a.s.sured her. "Rather the reverse, in fact. My cob wasn't out yesterday, and it'll do him good to go out to-day.

So, you see, you're providing an excellent reason for exercising him"--laughingly.

Mrs. Hilyard threw her a mischievous smile.

"Pure casuistry!" she affirmed. "But it's convinced me. I'll love to have tea with you, and afterwards you shall drive me home, and by the time I've given you as much trouble as possible, I hope we shall be really friends!"

It was only a matter of five minutes' walk from where they were standing to the Cottage, and Mrs. Hilyard exclaimed with delight at its pretty, old-fas.h.i.+oned aspect.

"What a delicious place!" she commented, as Ann established her in an easy chair. "I think I like it better than my Priory. You've some lovely bits of pewter up there"--nodding towards the tall old chimney-piece, where the tender moon-grey of ancient pewter mugs and dishes gleamed fitfully against the panelled wall.

"I'm afraid it isn't ours," acknowledged Ann regretfully. "Though I love every bit of it. My brother is agent for the Heronsmere estate, and we have this cottage furnished. Oh, here he is," she added, as Robin entered the room.

She introduced him to Mrs. Hilyard, who smilingly accounted for her impromptu visit.

"I feel that I'm imposing on Miss Lovell's good-nature in the most barefaced fas.h.i.+on," she said apologetically. "But I honestly couldn't resist the suggestion of a cup of tea."

"I'm very glad you couldn't," replied Robin simply. And something in the tone of his voice, taken in conjunction with the serious directness of his regard, made of the short sentence more than a mere empty expression of politeness.

"I met Brian Tempest and his sister just now," he went on, turning to Ann, "and asked them to come in to tea, so I expect they'll be here directly."

"Tempest? That's the rector here, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Hilyard, as Ann slipped out of the room to prepare Maria for the expected "company."

Robin nodded.

"You've not met him yet?"

"I've met no one. So far, I've done nothing but wrestle with packing-cases and the distribution of furniture"--smiling.

"It sounds pretty ghastly," averred Robin. "I say"--impulsively. "Couldn't I--couldn't we help you at all?"

Mrs. Hilyard laughed softly. Robin thought it was one of the most delightful sounds he had ever heard, fluent and sweet as the pipe of a blackbird.

"Apparently you and your sister go about doing kindnesses," she said, in a quick, touched way. "The very first thing she said to me was 'Can I help?'

And now, almost your first utterance is another offer of help! Is every one in the neighbourhood like that? Because, if so, I think I must have come to an enchanted village--and"--firmly--"I shall decide to remain here for the rest of my life!"

"Well"--Robin looked embarra.s.sed--"s.h.i.+fting furniture about isn't exactly a woman's job."

"I'm not actually s.h.i.+fting furniture myself--except a table or chair now and again, when no one else moves quickly enough to please me! But if you and Miss Lovell would come over one day soon and help me to decide about the disposition of my _lares_ and _penates_, it would be the greatest help.

One does so want some one to talk things over with, you know," she added.

To Robin's ears there was a forlorn note in that frank little acknowledgment, and he was conscious of a sudden, overpowering rush of sympathy. She was lonely--he was sure of it. In spite of all her charm and quick laughter, she was not a happy woman. Some shadow from the past lay in her eyes, and when she laughed the sparkle in them was like the momentary sunlit ripple which breaks the surface of a pool for a brief instant and then is lost again in its shadowed stillness.

Ann's return to the room, synchronising with the arrival of the rector and his sister, served to detach his thoughts from the subject of Mrs.

Hilyard's eyes, and when the necessary introductions had been performed, and the new owner of the Priory was joining in the general conversation with apparent light-heartedness, Robin was tempted to wonder whether he had been correct in his surmise, after all.

But later on, during tea, the clouded expression reappeared on her face, as though something had all at once turned her thoughts inward. It was when Miss Caroline, thirsting for information as usual, suddenly pounced on her with a question.

"I suppose you haven't met Mr. Coventry yet?" she demanded.

For an instant Mrs. Hilyard looked startled. Then she shook her head.

"Mr. Coventry? No. Is he an important person in the neighbourhood?"

"He's my chief," volunteered Robin. "Heronsmere Belongs to him."

"I'm afraid I don't even know where Heronsmere is," submitted Mrs. Hilyard deprecatingly. "I'm quite ignorant about my neighbours, so far."

"Silverquay is part of the Heronsmere property," responded Miss Caroline.

"But the house itself is not far from the Priory. The Coventrys have lived there for generations," she added proudly. "They're immensely wealthy."

With the last words an expression of something that looked like relief flitted across Mrs. Hilyard's face.

"How interesting!" she said, infusing just the right amount of cordiality into her voice. "And are there any children? I'm fond of kiddies."

"Children? Oh, no. Mr. Coventry isn't married. Nor was the last owner."

Miss Caroline warmed to her subject. "It's funny there should be two bachelor owners in succession, isn't it? Rackham Coventry died unmarried, and both his younger brothers were killed--one at sea and the other in a railway accident. That's how it was the property came to Eliot Coventry, who's only a cousin."