Rosalind at Red Gate Part 20

CHAPTER XIII

THE GATE OF DREAMS

And as I muse on Helen's face, Within the firelight's ruddy shine, Its beauty takes an olden grace Like hers whose fairness was divine; The dying embers leap, and lo!

Troy wavers vaguely all aglow, And in the north wind leashed without, I hear the conquering Argives' shout; And Helen feeds the flames as long ago!

--_Edward A. U. Valentine_.

In my heart I was anxious to do justice to Gillespie. Sad it is that we are all so given to pa.s.sing solemn judgment on trifling testimony!

I myself am not impeccable. I should at any time give to the lions a man who uses his thumb as a paper-cutter; for such a one is clearly marked for brutality. Spats I always a.s.sociate with vanity and a delicate const.i.tution. A man who does not know the art of nursing a pipe's fire, but who has constant recourse to the match-box, should be denied benefit of clergy and the consolations of religion and tobacco.

A woman who is so far above the vanities of this world that she can put on her hat without the aid of the mirror is either reckless or slouchy--both unbecoming enough--or else of an humility that is neither admirable nor desirable. My prejudices rally as to a trumpet-call at the sight of a girl wearing overshoes or nibbling bonbons--the one suggestive of predatory habits and weak lungs, the other of nervous dyspepsia.

The night was fine, and after returning my horse to the stable I continued on to the Glenarm boat-house. I was strolling along, pipe in mouth, and was half-way up the boat-house steps, when a woman shrank away from the veranda rail, where she had been standing, gazing out upon the lake. There was no mistaking her. She was not even disguised to-night, and as I advanced across the little veranda she turned toward me. The lantern over the boat-house door suffused us both as I greeted her.

"Pardon, me, Miss Holbrook; I'm afraid I have disturbed your meditations," I said. "But if you don't mind--"

"You have the advantage of being on your own ground," she replied.

"I waive all my rights as tenant if you will remain."

"It is much nicer here than on St. Agatha's pier; you can see the lake and the stars better. On the whole," she laughed, "I think I shall stay a moment longer, if you will tolerate me."

I brought out some chairs and we sat down by the rail, where we could look out upon the star-sown heavens and the dark floor of stars beneath. The pier lights shone far and near like twinkling jewels, and in the tense silence sounds floated from far across the water. A canoeing party drifted idly by, with a faint, listless splash of paddles, while a deep-voiced boy sang, _I rise from dreams of thee_. A moment later the last bars stole softly across to us, vague and shadowy, as though from the heart of night itself.

Helen bent forward with her elbows resting on the rail, her hands clasped under her chin. The lamplight fell full upon her slightly lifted head, and upon her shoulders, over which lay a filmy veil. She hummed the boy's song dreamily for a moment while I watched her. Had she one mood for the day and another for the night? I had last seen her that afternoon after an hour of tennis, at which she was expert, and she had run away through Glenarm gate with a taunt for my defeat; but now the spirit of stars and of all earth's silent things was upon her. I looked twice and thrice at her clearly outlined profile, at the brow with its point of dark hair, at the hand whereon the emerald was clearly distinguishable, and satisfied myself that there could be no mistake about her.

"You grow bold," I said, anxious to hear her voice. "You don't mind the pickets a bit."

"No. I'm quite superior to walls and fences. You have heard of those East Indians who appear and disappear through closed doors; well, we'll a.s.sume that I had one of those fellows for an ancestor! It will save the trouble of trying to account for my exits and entrances. I will tell you in confidence, Mr. Donovan, that I don't like to be obliged to account for myself!"

She sat back in the chair and folded her arms. I had not referred in any way to her transaction with Gillespie; I had never intimated even remotely that I knew of her meeting with the infatuated young fellow on St. Agatha's pier; and I felt that those incidents were ancient history.

"It was corking hot this afternoon. I hope you didn't have too much tennis."

"No; it was pretty enough fun," she remarked, with so little enthusiasm that I laughed.

"You don't seem to recall your victory with particular pleasure. It seems to me that I am the one to be shy of the subject. How did that score stand?"

"I really forget--I honestly do," she laughed.

"That's certainly generous; but don't you remember, as we walked along toward the gate after the game, that you said--"

"Oh, I can't allow that at all! What I said yesterday or to-day is of no importance now. And particularly at night I am likely to be weak-minded, and my memory is poorer then than at any other time."

"I am fortunate in having an excellent memory."

"For example?"

"For example, you are not always the same; you were different this afternoon; and I must go back to our meeting by the seat on the bluff, for the Miss Holbrook of to-night."

"That's all in your imagination, Mr. Donovan. Now, if you wanted to prove that I'm really--"

"Helen Holbrook," I supplied, glad of a chance to speak her name.

"If you wanted to prove that I am who I am," she continued, with new animation, as though at last something interested her, "how should you go about it?"

"Please ask me something difficult! There is, there could be, only one woman as fair, as interesting, as wholly charming."

"I suppose that is the point at which you usually bow humbly and wait for applause; but I scorn to notice anything so commonplace. If you were going to prove me to be the same person you met at the Annandale station, how should you go about it?"

"Well, to be explicit, you walk like an angel."

"You are singularly favored in having seen angels walk, Mr. Donovan.

There's a popular superst.i.tion that they fly. In my own ignorance I can't concede that your point is well taken. What next?"

"Your head is like an intaglio wrought when men had keener vision and nimbler fingers than now. With your hair low on your neck, as it is to-night, the picture carries back to a Venetian balcony centuries ago."

"That's rather below standard. What else, please?"

"And that widow's peak--I would risk the direst penalties of perjury in swearing to it alone."

She shrugged her shoulders. "You are an observant person. That trifling mark on a woman's forehead is usually considered a disfigurement."

"But you know well enough that I did not mention it with such a thought. You know it perfectly well."

"No; foolish one," she said mockingly, "the widow's peak can not be denied. I suppose you don't know that the peak sometimes runs in families. My mother had it, and her mother before her."

"You are not your mother or your grandmother; so I am not in danger of mistaking you."

"Well, what else, please?"

"There's the emerald. Miss Pat has the same ring, but you are not Miss Pat. Besides, I have seen you both together."

"Still, there are emeralds and emeralds!"

"And then--there are your eyes!"

"There are two of them, Mr. Donovan!"

"There need be no more to a.s.sure light in a needful world, Miss Holbrook."

"Good! You really have possibilities!"

She struck her palms together in a mockery of applause and laughed at me.

"To a man who is in love everything is possible," I dared.