The Vision of Desire Part 39

"I should never be content with less," Eliot went on. "I think if you were ever to fail me, Ann--" He broke off abruptly, as though the bare idea were torture.

"But I shan't fail you!" she replied confidently. "I love you"--simply.

"And when one loves, one doesn't fail."

His arms tightened their clasp about her till she could feel the hard beating of his heart against her own.

"Heart's dearest!" he murmured, his lips against her throat.

Presently she lifted her head from his shoulder and regarded him with questioning eyes.

"You didn't tell me what would happen to me if I _did_ fail you?"

"Don't speak of it!" he said sharply.

"But it's just as well to know the worst," she persisted laughingly. She felt so sure--so safe--with his arms round her that she could afford to joke a little about something that could never happen. "Would you cut off my head--as Bluebeard cut off the heads of his wives?"

For a moment he made no answer. Then:

"I should simply wipe you out of my life. That's all."

He spoke very evenly, but with such a note of absolute finality in his quiet voice that Ann quivered a little as she lay in his arms--as one might wince if any one laid the keen edge of a naked blade against one's throat, no matter how lightly.

"Ah! Don't let's talk of such things!" she cried hastily. "Don't let's spoil our first day, Eliot. Do you realise"--with a radiant smile--"that this is the first--the very first--day we have really belonged to each other?"

So they talked of other things--the foolish, sweet, and tender things which lovers have always talked and probably always will--things which are of no moment to the busy material-minded world as it bustles on its way, but which are the frail filaments out of which men and women fashion for themselves dear memories that shall sweeten all their lives.

But time will not wait, even for lovers, and Eliot had been gone over an hour when at last Robin returned from Ferribridge.

"Cast a shoe and had to wait an unconscionable time to get my horse shod,"

he explained briefly.

"You must be starving," commiserated Ann, "I'll tell Maria to bring you in some supper at once. I've had mine." But she omitted to add she had hardly eaten anything at the little solitary meal which succeeded Eliot's departure.

Maria's indignation as she carried out the half-touched dishes had been tinctured with a certain philosophic indulgence. "Ah, well!" she commented.

"They do say folks that be mazed wi' love can't never fancy their victuals.

Seems like tez true." In response to which Ann had merely laughed and kissed her weather-beaten old cheek.

In true masculine fashion, it was not until the cravings of his inner man were satisfied that Robin began to observe anything unusual in the atmosphere. But when at last he had finished supper, and was filling his beloved pipe preparatory to enjoying that best of all smokes which follows a long day's riding and a cosy meal, it dawned upon him that there was something unaccustomed in Ann's air of suppressed radiance. She was hovering about him, waiting to strike a match for him to light up by, when the idea struck him. He regarded her attentively for a minute or two with his nice grey-green eyes and finally inquired in a tone of mild amus.e.m.e.nt:

"What is it, sister mine? Has some one left us a fortune, or what? There's something odd about you to-night--an air of--_je ne sais quoi!_"--with an expansive wave of his hand.

"'I'm engaged to be married, sir, she said,'" remarked Ann demurely.

"Engaged? Great Scott! Who to?" Robin manifested all the unflattering amazement common to successive generations of brothers when confronted with the astounding fact that the apparently quite ordinary young woman whom they have hitherto regarded merely as a sisterly adjunct to life has suddenly become the pivot upon which some other man's entire happiness will henceforth turn.

But afterwards, when he had had time to a.s.similate the unexpected news, he was ready to enter whole-heartedly into Ann's happiness--just as throughout all their lives he had been always ready to share with her either happiness or pain, like the good comrade he was.

"I shall miss you abominably," he declared. "In fact, I shall forbid the banns if Coventry wants to carry you off too soon."

"You absurd person!" She laughed and kissed him. "Why, living at Heronsmere, I shall be able to look after you both. Little brother shan't be neglected, I promise you!"

They sat over the fire talking till the grandfather's clock in the corner struck twelve warning strokes. Robin knocked out the ashes of his pipe.

"We'd better be thinking of turning in, old thing," he observed. "Even newly-engaged people require a modic.u.m of sleep, I suppose"--smiling across at her.

"We're not telling people we're engaged, yet," Ann. cautioned him.

Robin looked up.

"No? Why not?" he asked laconically.

"I wanted--I thought it would be nice to have a few days just to ourselves," she replied uncertainly.

"That's not the only reason."

Ann hesitated.

"No," she acknowledged at last. "It isn't. Perhaps I'm 'fey' to-night. I don't feel quite material Ann yet"--with a faint smile. "And--somehow--I'd rather no one knew for a little while."

CHAPTER XXII

WILD OATS

Lady Susan came briskly into the morning-room at White Windows, and the four privileged members of the Tribes of Israel who, being allowed the run of the house, were basking in front of a cheery fire, rose in a body and rushed towards her, jealously clamouring for attention. She patted them all round with a beautiful impartiality, cuffed the Great Dane for trampling on a minute Pekingese, settled a dispute between the truculent Irish terrier and an aristocratic Chow, and proceeded to greet her nephew.

"I've got an errand for you this morning, Brett," she remarked, as she poured out coffee.

Forrester, who was lifting the covers of the hot dishes on the sideboard, glanced round over his shoulder.

"At your service, most revered aunt. What particular job is it? Which will you have? Bacon and eggs, or fish?"

"Bacon. I want you to go over to Heronsmere, if you will, and bring back that pedigree pup Mr. Coventry promised me."

Brett surveyed the privileged cla.s.ses on the hearth-rug with a ruminative eye.

"Are you proposing to add yet another to your collection of dogs?" he inquired with some amus.e.m.e.nt. "You must pay over quite a young fortune to the Government every year in the shape of dog-licenses."

Lady Susan smiled deprecatingly.

"Well, I really didn't intend to add to their number just at present,"

she admitted. "But I couldn't resist a pup by Mr. Coventry's pedigree fox-terrier. It's a first-cla.s.s strain, and lie promised he'd pick me out a good puppy."

"Then hadn't you better wait till he comes hack to make the selection for you?"

"He _is_ back."