Grey Town Part 22

"If so, I have forgotten it. I am now the most supremely contented man in the world," answered Desmond.

"Well, good-bye, children!" cried Denis.

He was surprised at himself for this speech; it was a frivolity that he had never before been guilty of. But with Sylvia Jackson there were no restraints, nor was his remark in the slightest degree extraordinary to her. She called out after him as he went:

"Don't forget our appointment after lunch."

"You have charmed the grizzly bear," said Desmond. "I believe you could teach him to dance."

"I intend to do that. Before I go away he shall dance to my music, the dear old grizzly," she answered. "I intend to drop you handsome men and cultivate the ugly ones. Denis Quirk is charming!"

"I believe he is a good sort," said Desmond, who was above the pettiness of deprecating a possible rival.

"I am sure that you are the very best of good sorts. Now, what are we to do?" she answered.

"Walk along the cliffs, and see the grandest sight in Nature--the eternal war between the ocean and the land," he answered.

And Sylvia Jackson, who was artistic and emotional to an extreme degree, fully agreed with him when she stood on the cliffs that tower over the sea just two miles beyond the town.

A strong wind was blowing from the south, the sun shining through a sky dappled with fleecy broken white cloudlets. The spray sparkled in the bright light before it broke into a rainbow of changing colours. Above the big rollers the cliffs rose in broken perpendicular columns; there was a constant roar in the ears as breaker after breaker hurled itself on the rocks. Sea-birds wheeled about overhead. In the far distance the ocean stretched out, to where a bank of clouds rested on the distant horizon, in slopes and peaks, a perfect copy of snow-clad mountains.

"Don't stand so close to the cliffs!" cried Desmond.

She laughed at him mockingly.

"You need have no fear for me. I am an ethereal spirit, a thing of vapour," she answered.

"I wouldn't dare stand where you are; I should be drawn down. Good heavens!"

As he watched her she became suddenly pale and giddy. Seeing this, he sprang and seized her in his arms, drawing her back, shaking and trembling in every limb.

"It was just in time," she said. "Another second and I was lost.

Suddenly a giddiness came over me, as if someone seized me and was pulling me over the cliff. Take me away from this dreadful place."

There were tears in her voice and in her eyes. She continued to sob until they were remote from the sea. Then she suddenly asked, laughingly:

"Do you still imagine I am in danger that you continue to hold me?"

"It was an opportunity I could not miss. Sylvia----," he said, sinking his voice to the sentimental key.

"Now, you must stop at once. Remember our compact. Once you become too sentimental our friendship ends. Drop your arms by your side. That will do. Now you may smile pleasantly and talk to me like a sensible man."

It was a repulse, but it sounded rather as an invitation to continue the siege in a less impulsive manner. So did Desmond construe what she had said, and his spirits reflected the satisfaction which the belief afforded him. When she joined them at lunch Kathleen found the two as full of spirits as if they had been children. Their laughter and jests were an offence to many who were lunching in the same room as they. To these simple country folk the manners and style of the new school, to which Sylvia Jackson belonged, were something as yet strange and disagreeable. But the new school pays no attention to other people, and rejoices in causing a sensation and outraging old-fashioned ideas.

It was immediately after luncheon that Sylvia Jackson suggested:

"We will go and visit Denis Quirk, and turn his office upside down."

"I don't think you know Quirk," replied Desmond. "He's a martinet in 'The Mercury' office."

"Oh, nonsense!" she cried. "Denis Quirk and I are like brother and sister."

She shot a quick glance at Kathleen to note the effect of this remark, but Kathleen showed no sign of concern.

"You will come with us, Kathleen," she continued, "and take a lesson from me on the taming of bears. I positively love wild animals of the human sort; they afford a natural tamer like me such a fund of pleasure."

"Oh, yes, I will come," Kathleen replied.

She was vaguely surprised at the welcome they received. Denis Quirk was a new personality to her; for the moment he threw away his accustomed gravity and joined with his guests in their frolics. He led them around the office, introducing them in turn to each employe, from Cairns right down to Tim O'Neill, now promoted to office boy and occasional reporter. He explained the mysteries of the printing room, and retailed a score of newspaper anecdotes. Finally, he insisted on taking them to a tea-room, and there ordering tea for the whole party.

When he had parted from them to return to "The Mercury," Sylvia Jackson asked:

"What do you think of the martinet now? Can you suggest any other man in Grey Town whom I can transform into something human?"

"Ebenezer Brown," laughed Desmond O'Connor. "Why, there he comes, the old rascal!"

It was done in a moment. As the man came slowly up the street, Sylvia Jackson dropped her purse in his path. It fell with a clink, and this it probably was that caused Ebenezer Brown to stoop and pick it up.

As he handed it back to her, Sylvia Jackson gave him a most gracious smile.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Brown!" she said.

Ebenezer paused for a moment to ask:

"You know me, young lady?"

"You would not remember me, but I met you once, years ago. My name is Sylvia Jackson."

"Jackson?" grunted the old man. "Don't remember the name, but I shouldn't forget you if I had met you once."

He went along the street, chuckling in his throat in a dry, disagreeable fashion he affected when amused.

"You took a great risk in allowing old Eb. to hold your purse. How he resisted an inclination to pocket it I can't for the life of me understand," said Desmond O'Connor.

"Are there no other impossible men in Grey Town?" asked Sylvia Jackson.

"I feel so exalted by my two successes that I would love to discover a really hardened woman-hater, and convert him to more humanitarian principles."

"Be content with what you have achieved, and devote your gifts to me,"

said Desmond.

Kathleen recognised that she was the unnecessary third, but they protested that she must walk home with them, and managed to ignore her presence entirely as they followed the dusty road to "Layton."

CHAPTER XIII.

DENIS REFUSES TO SPEAK.