The Duchess of Wrexe Part 42

Suddenly, arising, as it seemed, out of that crowd of moving figures and coming and standing there in front of her, was her answer.

Yes, she would go. All these months of indetermination should be ended.

She should know, once and for all, what this Francis Breton meant to her, what that other life of hers meant to her, and so, in opposition, what Roddy meant to her. She would, as Christopher would have put it, grapple with her Tiger....

Instantly, the relief, the glad, happy relief showed her how wretched life had been.

"What about this war, Uncle Vincent?" she said.

"Well--hem--well--no need to worry--_I_ a.s.sure you--no need to worry!"

"It seems a pity," said Lord John, still looking furtively at Rachel and wishing that he could carry her off into some other corner and just ask her whether she were really happy or no.

"Why, John," said the Duke, cackling. "You'll have to go out, 'pon my word, you will--fight 'em, by Jove--Ha! ha! You'd make a fine soldier, old boy."

Rachel got up, hating Uncle Vincent very much. She put her hand on Uncle John's fat arm.

"You may go, Uncle Vincent," she said. "We all give you leave--Uncle John we love too much: if it's a question of bravery he'd be quite certainly the first of this family." She gave his arm a squeeze.

Uncle Vincent looked at her, smiling--

"Well," he said. "None of us would dream of going ... we're all much too comfortable."

"I'll see you before I go, uncle dear," she whispered to Lord John. Then she moved away.

Slowly making her path through the room she left it and climbed the great stone staircase.

III

Outside her grandmother's door she paused; so she had always paused, and now, as she waited there, all the procession of other days when she had stood there came before her. Conditions might be changed, but her agitation was the same. Never until she died would she open that door without wondering, in spite of common sense, whether she might not be caught by some disaster before she closed it again.

She went in and found her grandmother sitting back in her stiff chair and looking at some patterns of bright silks that lay on a little table beside her.

A great fire was burning and the room seemed to Rachel intolerably hot; she noticed at once that what Uncle John had said was true. Before she had heard Rachel's entrance the d.u.c.h.ess looked an old, tired woman. Her head was drooping a little over the blue and purple silks; she seemed half asleep.

But at the sound of the door she was alert; when she saw that it was her granddaughter who stood there, tall and stately, her large black hat shadowing her face, she seemed in a moment to be transformed with energy and life--her head went up, her eyes flashed, her hands stiffened on her lap.

"May I come in for a moment, grandmother?" Rachel said.

By the door she had wondered--how could she be afraid of this old sick woman? Now as she crossed over to the fire her sternest self-command was summoned to control her alarm. She was frightened by nothing but this--here it was indeed as though there were some spell that seized her.

"Certainly, my dear--come in." The d.u.c.h.ess gave a last look at the silks and then turned to her granddaughter. "I'm afraid you'll find it very hot--I must have a fire, you know."

She had a trick of drawing in her lower lip as she spoke, so that her words hissed a little over her teeth. She did not do this with everybody and Rachel believed that it was only because she had noticed that Rachel as a little girl had been frightened of it that she did it now.

Rachel sat down opposite her and the heat of the fire and a scent of something that had violets and mignonette in it--a scent that was always in the room--stifled her so that her head began to swim and the rings on the d.u.c.h.ess's hand to hypnotize her.

"There's a great party going on downstairs," she said.

"Yes. I know. John came up for a moment and told me about it--and how are you?"

"Very well, thank you, grandmamma. Roddy and I have been ever so sociable lately, given several dinner-parties and one musical thing."

"You're not looking very well. Roddy here?"

"Yes."

"Hope he'll come and see me before he goes. Hasn't been to see me much lately."

Their eyes met. Rachel held her ground and then, beaten as though by a physical blow, lowered her gaze.

"Oh! hasn't he? He's been here a lot, I thought. He's been very busy over some horses that he's had to go up and down to Seddon about."

"H'm. Well--I dare say he'll remember me again one day--so we're in for a war?"

"Yes. They don't seem to think it very serious though--Uncle Richard says----"

"Your Uncle Richard knows nothing about it--nothing. However, I don't think anyone need be alarmed."

There was in this last sentence a ring in the d.u.c.h.ess's voice that flung her words out for the nation to grasp at. "No need, my good people, for you to worry--_I_ have this in hand."

"Well, I'm very glad," said Rachel. "It's such a long while since anything has happened that it seems quite odd for everyone to have something to talk about except dinner-parties and scandal----"

The old woman looked across at her and then very slowly a smile rose, stiffened between her old dried lips and stayed there--

"What would you say, my dear, if Roddy thought it his duty to go and defend his country?"

There was, suddenly, the sharp ring in her voice that Rachel knew so well.

"I know," Rachel said quietly, "that Roddy would do his duty, and of course I would want him to do that."

The d.u.c.h.ess, with her eyes still upon her granddaughter's face, said--"I've heard a good deal about a young friend of yours lately."

"Who is that, grandmamma?" Rachel said, and, in spite of herself her hand trembled a little against her dress.

"Nita Raseley."

Rachel caught her breath.

"I gather that you and she haven't seen so much of one another lately."

"Oh! I think we have. We never were great friends, you know."

"Did she enjoy her time at Seddon? A clever little thing. I shouldn't drop her, Rachel, if I were you."

"She seemed to enjoy Seddon, grandmamma. I must be going, I'm afraid, with the patient Roddy waiting for me. Shall I tell him to come up?"

The old hand struck the arm of the chair and the rings flashed.