Winding Paths Part 31

"I never leave them off. My fire is one of my staunchest companions.

An empty grate always depresses me, because if it is sunny and hot I want to be out-of-doors, and if it is not, I want my fire. Let us go to dinner, then we can get back and purr over it to our hearts'

content."

Because it pleased her to make him an honoured guest, Lorraine had been at considerable pains in ordering her dinner, and she was gratified to observe that it was not wasted on him.

Certainly, among other things at Oxford he had learnt to know a good dinner and good wine, and enjoy them as a connoisseur. It amused her also to observe that the old-fashioned air with which he had inquired a little masterfully after her health, grew upon him as the evening progressed.

She thought he must be a little bit of a tyrant to his mother, and any one he was specially fond of. Not dictatorially so, but with a humorous, half-satirical insistence that was very engaging.

When the sat over the fire together, later, she found herself telling him many things about her early struggles, and first successes, not in the least in a "talking down" att.i.tude, but as to a very sympathetic companion of her own age.

It was evident he was truly interested, and this made him a charming listener. And he told her yet further of his own hopes, and disappointments, and discouragements. Several times since he took his degree, one friend or another had held out hopeful expectations of being able to put him on to this case of that, which might bring a brief. And always the hope had failed, and the promise ended in smoke.

She gave him sympathy in her turn, and said she would not raise his expectations unkindly, but she believed she could really help him to get a start. She would speak to Lord Denton about it. He was always ready to do a little thing like that for her.

"He is one of those dear people," she told him, "who seem to try to make up for their own incorrigible laziness by going out of their way to put some one else in the way of a start."

She saw the colour deepen in his face, and a subdued light shine in his eyes, as he thanked her rather haltingly. The little show of diffidence was very charming. How far removed, how amazingly far removed he was from the average good-looking youth of twenty-four, who was usually so anxious to impress every one with his attributes and his powers.

And he was not even average. Every time she saw him she wondered afresh at his extraordinary wealth of attraction. One could have forgiven him a few airs and mannerisms; but no forgiveness was asked: in every single phrase she found him always the modest, una.s.suming, high-bred gentleman.

So they sat on and talked, and for the time being the warfare of the afternoon pa.s.sed from her mind. Probing seemed suddenly out of place.

Why probe?... Their friendship had slipped of itself into an old companionship. What need for more? She knew instinctively he would come often to fill her lonely hours, and tell her all about his work and his doings.

And sometimes they would go out together on little jaunts. If they did, who need know, or who, at any rate, need gossip? She felt a gladness grow in her mind at the thought of the happy friendship they might have; guarded perhaps from harm by the disparity in their years, and at the same time of inestimable benefit to him, and pleasure to her. She felt almost motherly as she laid her fingers lightly on his arm, with a little laughing jest, as they stood together before parting.

"I have enjoyed my evening of invalidism so much. Come and see me again soon, won't you?"

"I should love to. You are very good to me."

"Oh, no; I'm not. Don't let us talk of goodness in that way. I like your company; and it is good to have what one likes. I shall expect you again soon, Alymer - I may call you Alymer, mayn't I?... Mr.

Hermon is so overpowering."

"I wish you would. I would have asked you, only I was afraid you might think it cheek."

"Very well then, _Alymer_," with emphasis, "when I have spoken to Lord Denton I will telephone you; and I hope he will be able to start you off on a road that will very nearly end in a verdict of 'Suffocated with briefs.'"

"Or 'briefly suffocated'," he laughed, and beat a hasty retreat, for fear of a reprisal.

When he had gone, Lorraine sat again in the firelight, and it seemed as if the stress and unrest had fallen from her, and only the memory of a pleasant companionship remained. They were going to be the best of pals - why not - and why seek to probe any further?

Apparently he was not susceptible, and cared more for his profession than any one supposed, and so, since she liked to have him there to glory in his comeliness, they could form a mutual benefit society, and no one need be hurt at all. It was all quite simple, and she went to bed feeling rested and refreshed, and looking forward hopefully for the pleasant meetings to come?

Flip Denton was running down to Brighton for the week-end also, to take her out on the Sunday in his car; and he noticed at once that a shadow wich had hovered over her eyes of late had vanished.

"You are looking topping," he told her. "What about the love affair, is it all satisfactorily off? It has been worrying you a little of late."

"It is not exactly off," she replied, "but it is more satisfactorily placed. We are going to be real good pals. He is going to keep me company in some of my lonely hours, and I am going to try and help him to get briefs. I am relying on you for the first one, Flip."

"The d.i.c.kens you are. My dear girl, why should I put myself out to acquire a brief for a rival?"

"Oh, just because you are you. You know you will love it, Flip! You will get him a brief, and then you will pat yourself on the back and say: 'I know I'm a lazy dog myself, but I'm a devil of a good chap at getting other fellows work.'"

"So I am" - enjoying her thrust - "and it's a splendid line, and gives far more satisfaction in the end. If I tried to work I should only make a mess of it, and drive some one nearly crazy, whereas, in putting another chap on to a job I give such a lot of folks pleasure, I feel I am getting square with the Almighty."

"Then you'll try, Flip?"

"It is humanly possible, he shall have a brief of his very own within the next month."

"You are a dear. Sometimes I think you are the most adorable person I know."

"You don't think it long enough at a time, Lorry. You are too p.r.o.ne to go off suddenly after false G.o.ds measuring six-foot-five-and-a-half inches and with the faces of Apollo Belvederes."

"Probably it is a merciful precaution on the part of our guardian angels, Flip; and, anyhow, you know you like a little variation yourself in the way of bulk, and sound, practical, indecorous chorus girldom."

"I do," was his unabashed affirmative. "Nice, comfortable, elevating palliness with you; and a right down rollicking bust-up occasionally with the ladies of the unpretending school of wild oats."

"I want my giant for the present to be satisfied with his palliness with me and his work. Do you think he will?"

"As I haven't seen him I can't say. If I get the chance, however, I'll tell him that "wild oats' are the very devil, and I'd give all I've got to have stuck to work and had naught to do with'em."

"You know you wouldn't, Flip," with a little laugh.

"I know I couldn't, you mean; but I never admit it to juniors."

"Well, you shall come to the flat to meet him. If he gets a brief, we'll have a little dinner party, and I'll ask Hal and her cousin and St. Quintin."

"Right you are. I haven't seen Miss Pritchard for ages. Shall we turn now, and go back by Rottingdean?"

"Let us go wichever way has the best view of the sea. I feel I want to look at wide, breezy s.p.a.ces for a while, and not talk at all."

"You shall," he promised, and they sped along in silence.

CHAPTER XVII

When Hall sat on the side of her bed, brushing her hair and meditating on her irritation, she had not misjudged when she antic.i.p.ated great enjoyment from an afternoon run with her new friend.

It would have been difficult indeed to say who enjoyed it the most.

Hal was in great form, and Sir Edwin Crathie half unconsciously took his tone from her, dropping his usual att.i.tude towards women he liked, and adopting instead one as gay and careless and inconsequent as hers.

It was not in the nature of the man to desist from flirting with her, but his pretty speeches were coupled with a humour and chaff that robbed them of any pointedness, and merely resulted in an amusing amount of parry and thrust, over which they both laughed whole-heartedly.

"You are an absolute witch," he told her as they sat enjoying a big tea at an hotel on the south coast; "ever since we started you have made me behave more or less like a school-boy, and a tea like this is the climax."