The Keeper of the Door Part 63

"Oh, you know, dear,--Dr. Wyndham," she murmured.

"Oh! So you call him Max, do you?" said Jim drily. "That's an innovation, so far as I am concerned."

"I couldn't help it," she faltered, hiding her face a little lower. "He made me."

"Did he indeed?" said Dr. Jim. "Well? What's the trouble?"

"I--I can't remember," she whispered forlornly.

"Are you in love with him?" asked Dr. Jim abruptly.

She lifted her face with a great start. "No!" she gasped breathlessly.

He looked at her with a semi-humorous frown. "Well, that's something definite to go upon anyhow. Can't stand him at any price, eh?"

She smiled a little doubtfully. "I couldn't at one time. But now--now--"

"Yes? Now?" said Dr. Jim.

"I'm just--afraid of him," she said, a piteous quiver in her voice.

"What for?" Dr. Jim sounded stern, but his hold was very comforting.

"That's just it," said Olga. "I don't remember. I can't remember. But I know he is angry--for some reason. I think--I think I must have done--something he didn't like. Anyhow--I know he is angry."

Dr. Jim grunted again. "Does that matter?" he asked after a moment.

She clung to him very fast. "It will matter--when I see him again."

"And if you don't see him again?" said Dr. Jim.

"Oh, Dad!" she said, with a deep breath.

"Well?" he persisted. "Would that simplify matters? Would that set your mind at rest?"

"Oh, yes, it would!" she said, with immense relief.

He gave her an abrupt kiss, and laid her down. "Very well then. That's settled," he said. "You shan't see him again. Now go to sleep!"

But though she knew he would keep his promise, she was not wholly satisfied, nor did sleep come to her very readily. Her mind was vaguely disturbed. The thought of Max had set her brain in a turmoil which she literally dared not attempt to pursue to its source. She was beginning to be desperately afraid of the mystery she could not penetrate.

She was not so well in the morning, and Dr. Jim rigidly refused to allow either Nick or Muriel at her bedside.

He himself was there during the greater part of the day, watching her, waiting upon her, with a vigilance that never slackened. She suffered a good deal of pain, but his unremitting care did much to alleviate it, and in the evening she was better again, albeit considerably weakened.

After that, her progress was slow, and finding the effort of thought beyond her, she was forced wearily to give up the attempt to think. Even when at length her strength returned sufficiently for her to be carried downstairs and laid on a couch in the garden, the mystery still remained a mystery, and for some reason unintelligible even to herself she had grown content to leave it so. She avoided all thought of it with a morbid dread that was in part physical; for any attempt at concentration in those days always entailed a headache that rendered her practically blind and speechless for hours.

Meantime, they sought to keep her occupied with thoughts of her coming adventure in the East with Nick. There were many preparations to be made, and Muriel tackled them with a steady energy that could not fail to excite Olga's interest. She even roused herself to a.s.sist, though Dr.

Jim would not permit her to do much, and would often rise and take the work out of her hands when her eyes began to droop.

She had her hours of great depression also, when life was nothing but a burden and she would weep without knowing why. On these occasions Nick was invaluable. He had a wonderful knack of banishing those tears, and in his cheery presence the burden was never insupportable.

It was on Nick's wiry strength that she leaned when she tottered forth for her first walk in the garden. She would probably have wept over her weakness if he had not made her laugh at it instead. It was a morning of soft misty sunshine in the early autumn, and a robin trilled his gay greeting to them as they slowly crept along.

"Jolly little beggar!" said Nick. "Robins always appeal tome. They know how to be cheerful in adversity. Care to go down to the glen, sweetheart? I'll haul you back again."

Yes, Olga would go to the glen. It was a favourite haunt with both of them. The sun glinted on the narrow pathway as they went. The twinkle of the stream was like fairy laughter, with every now and then a secret gurgle as of a laugh suppressed.

They halted on the mossy bank, Nick's arm affording active support. Olga looked down thoughtfully into the running water.

"The last time I was here," she said slowly, "was on the day I went to the Priory to--ask--Violet--to come and stay with me. That must be ages ago."

"Oh, ages!" said Nick.

She turned to him with a puzzled air. "I wonder Violet hasn't been to see me, Nick. Where is she?"

His flickering eyes were searching the stream. "She's gone away," he said.

"Oh! Where has she gone?"

"Haven't a notion," he said indifferently.

"I wonder I haven't heard," mused Olga. "I suppose she hasn't written?"

"Not to my knowledge," said Nick. His attention was obviously still fixed upon the babbling water.

"Oh, well, she hardly ever does write," commented Olga. "And you don't know where she is gone?"

"I do not," said Nick.

At this point his preoccupation seemed to strike her. "What are you looking at?" she asked.

He nodded towards a clump of ferns that fringed the bank. "I thought I saw my friend the scarlet b.u.t.terfly. There is a beauty lives hereabouts.

Yes; by Jove, there he is! See him, Olga?"

Even as he spoke the scarlet b.u.t.terfly emerged from its hiding place and fluttered down the stream.

Olga uttered a sharp cry that brought Nick's eyes to her face. "What's the matter, kiddie? What is it?"

For a moment she was too overcome to tell him. Then: "Oh, Nick," she said, "I saw that b.u.t.terfly the last time I was here. It was fluttering along just like that. And then--all of a sudden--a dreadful green dragon-fly flashed out on it, and--and--I didn't see it any more."

"Cheer up!" said Nick. "Evidently it escaped."

"Oh, I wonder!" she said, in a voice of puzzled distress. "I do wonder!"

His shrewd glance returned to the moth quivering like a flower petal in the breeze. "Well, there it is!" he said cheerily. "Let's give it the benefit of the doubt."

Her face did not wholly clear. "I wish I knew," she said. "Do you really think it can be the same, Nick?"