Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 - Harold Bindloss (best black authors TXT) 📗

Feel Guilty For Playing At All, But

The Line Must Be Drawn."

 

"Where Do You Feel Inclined To Draw It?"

 

They Had Reached The Hall And Sylvia Turned And Looked At Him Directly,

But With A Trace Of Coquetry.

 

"At Allowing A Comparative Stranger To Meet My Losses, If I Must Be

Blunt."

 

"The Arrangement Isn't Altogether Unusual.  In This Case, It's A Duty,

And The Restriction You Make Doesn't Bar Me Out.  I'm Not A Stranger."

 

"A Mere Acquaintance Then," Said Sylvia.

 

"That Won't Do Either.  It Doesn't Apply To Me."

 

"Then I'll Have To Alter The Classification."  She Broke Into A Soft

Laugh.  "It's Difficult To Think Of A Term To Fit; Would You Like To

Suggest Something?"

 

Several Epithets Occurred To The Man, But He Feared To Make Too Rash A

Venture.

 

"Well," He Said, "Would You Object To--Confidential Friend?"

 

Sylvia's Smile Seemed To Taunt Him.

 

"Certainly; It Goes Too Far.  One Doesn't Become A Confidential Friend

In A Very Limited Time."

 

"I've Known It Happen In A Few Days."

 

"Friendships Of That Kind Don't Last.  In A Little While You Find You

Have Been Deceived.  But We Won't Talk Of These Things.  You Can't Have

The Book, And I'm Going Out."

 

He Held Up The Shawl, Which She Draped About Her Shoulders, And They

Strolled On To The Terrace.  The Night Was Calm And Pleasantly Cool;

Beyond The Black Line Of Hedge Across The Lawn, Meadows And Harvest

Fields, With Rows Of Sheaves That Cast Dark Shadows Behind Them,

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Stretched Away In The Moonlight.  After A While Sylvia Stopped And

Leaned Upon The Broad-Topped Wall.

 

"It's Really Pretty," She Remarked.

 

"Yes," Returned Bland; "It's More Than Pretty.  There's Something In It

That Rests One.  I Sometimes Wish I Could Live In Such A Place As This

Altogether."

 

Sylvia Was Astonished, Because She Saw He Meant It.

 

"After Your Life, You Would Get Horribly Tired Of It In Three Months."

 

"After My Life?  Do You Know What That Has Been?"

 

"Race Meetings, Polo Matches, Hilarious Mess Dinners."

 

He Laughed, Rather Shortly.

 

"I Suppose So; But They're Not The Only Army Duties.  Some Of The Rest

Are Better, Abroad; But They're Frequently Accompanied By

Semi-Starvation, Scorching Heat Or Stinging Cold, And Fatigue; And It

Doesn't Seem To Be The Rule That Those Who Bear The Heaviest Strain Are

Remembered When Promotion Comes."

 

Sylvia Studied Him Attentively.  Bland Was Well And Powerfully Made,

And She Liked Big Men--There Was More Satisfaction In Bending Them To

Her Will.  In Spite Of His Careless Good-Humor, He Bore A Certain Stamp

Of Distinction; He Was An Excellent Card-Player, He Could Dance

Exceptionally Well, And She Had Heard Him Spoken Of As A First-Class

Shot.  It Was Unfortunate That These Abilities Were Of Less Account In

A Military Career Than She Had Supposed; But, When Properly Applied,

They Carried Their Possessor Some Distance In Other Fields.  What Was

As Much To The Purpose, Bland Appeared To Be Wealthy, And Took A

Leading Part In Social Amusements And Activities.

 

"I Suppose That Is The Case," She Said Sympathetically, In Answer To

His Last Remark.  "You Have Never Told Me Anything About Your Last

Campaign.  You Were Injured In It, Were You Not?"

 

The Man Had His Weaknesses, But They Did Not Include Any Desire To

Retail His Exploits And Sufferings To Women's Ears.  He Would Not Speak

Of His Wounds, Honorably Received, Or Of Perils Faced As Carelessly As

He Had Exposed His Men.

 

"Yes," He Answered.  "But That Was Bad Enough At The Time, And The Rest

Of It Would Make A Rather Monotonous Tale."

 

"Surely Not!" Protested Sylvia.  "The Thrill And Bustle Of A Campaign

Must Be Wonderfully Exciting."

 

"The Novelty Of Marching Steadily In A Blazing Sun, Drinking Bad Water,

And Shoveling Trenches Half The Night, Soon Wears Off," He Said With A

Short Laugh, And Changed The Subject.  "One Could Imagine That You're

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Not Fond Of Quietness."

 

Sylvia Shivered.  The Memory Of Her Two Years In Canada Could Not Be

Banished.  She Looked Back On Them With Something Like Horror.

 

"No," She Declared; "I Hate It!  It's Deadly To Me."

 

"Well, I've An Idea.  There's The Dene Hall Charity Gymkana Comes Off

In A Few Days.  It's Semi-Private, And I Know The People; In Fact

They've Made Me Enter For Some Of The Events.  It's A Pretty Ride To

The Place, And I Can Get A Good Car.  Will You Come?"

 

"I Don't Know Whether I Ought," Said Sylvia, With Some Hesitation.

 

"Think Over It, Anyway," He Begged Her.

 

One Or Two People Came Out, And When Somebody Called Her Name Sylvia

Left Him, Without Promising.  Bland Remained Leaning On The Wall And

Thinking Hard.  Sylvia Strongly Attracted Him.  She Was Daintily

Pretty, Quick Of Comprehension, And, In Spite Of Her Black Attire,

Which At Times Gave Her A Forlorn Air That Made Him Compassionate,

Altogether Charming.  It Was, However, Unfortunate That He Could Not

Marry A Poor Wife, And He Knew Nothing About Sylvia's Means.  To Do Him

Justice, He Had Shrunk From Any Attempt To Obtain Information On This

Point; But He Felt That It Would Have To Be Made Before Things Went Too

Far.  His Thoughts Were Interrupted By Ethel West, Who Strolled Along

The Terrace And Stopped Close At Hand.

 

"I Didn't Expect To Find You Wrapped In Contemplation," She Remarked.

 

"As A Matter Of Fact, I've Been Talking."

 

"To Mrs. Marston?  She's Generally Considered Entertaining."

 

Bland Looked At Her With A Smile.  He Liked Ethel West.  She Was Blunt,

Without Being Tactless, And Her Conversation Was Sometimes Piquant.

Moreover, He Remembered That Ethel And Sylvia Were Old Acquaintances.

 

"I Find Her So," He Said.  "Though She Has Obviously Had Trouble, She's

Very Bright.  It's A Sign Of Courage."

 

"In Sylvia Marston's Case, It's Largely A Reaction.  She Spent What She

Regards As Two Harrowing Years In Canada."

 

"After All, Canada Doesn't Seem To Be A Bad Place," Said Bland.  "Two

Of My Friends, Who Left The Service, Went Out To Take Up Land And They

Evidently Like It.  They Got Lots Of Shooting, And They've Started A

Pack Of Hounds."

 

Ethel Considered.  She Could Have Told Him That Sylvia's Husband Had

Gone Out To Make A Living, And Had Not Been In A Position To Indulge In

Costly Amusements, But This Did Not Appear Advisable.

 

"I Don't Think Marston Got A Great Deal Of Sport," She Said.  "He Had

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Too Much To Do."

 

"A Big Place To Look After?  I Understand It's Wise To Buy Up All The

Land You Can."

 

Ethel's Idea Of The Man's Views In Respect To Sylvia Was Confirmed.  He

Was Obviously Giving Her A Lead And She Followed It, Though She Did Not

Intend To Enlighten Him.

 

"Yes," She Answered; "That's The Opinion Of My Brother, Who's Farming

There.  He Says Values Are Bound To Go Up As The New Railroads Are

Built, And Marston Had A Good Deal Of Land.  Sylvia Is Prudently

Keeping Every Acre And Farming As Much As Possible."

 

She Saw This Was Satisfactory To Bland, And She Had No Hesitation In

Letting Him Conclude What He Liked From It.  It Was Not Her Part To

Caution Him, And It Was Possible That If No Other Suitor Appeared,

Sylvia Might Fall Back On George, Which Was A Risk That Must Be Avoided

At Any Cost.  Ethel Did Not Expect To Gain Anything For Herself; She

Knew That George Had Never Had Any Love For Her; But She Was Determined

That He Should Not Fall Into Sylvia's Hands.  He Was Too Fine A Man, In

Many Ways, To Be Thus Sacrificed.

 

"But How Can Mrs. Marston Carry On The Farm?" Bland Inquired.

 

"I Should Have Said Her Trustees Are Doing So," Ethel Answered

Carelessly.  "One Of Them Went Out To Look Into Things Not Long Ago."

 

Then She Moved Away And Left Bland With One Difficulty That Had

Troubled Him Removed.

 

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When Mrs. Kettering Heard Of Sylvia's Intention To Attend The Gymkana,

She Gave Her Consent, And Said That, As She Had An Invitation, She

Would Make Up A Party To Go.  This Was Not What Bland Required.  It

Was, However, A Four-Seated Car That He Had Been Promised The Use Of;

And Counting Sylvia And Himself And The Driver, There Was Only One

Place Left.  While He Was Wondering To Whom It Would Be Best To Offer

It, Sylvia Thought Of Ethel West, Who Had Announced That She Would Not

Attend The Function.  By Making A Short Round, They Could Pass Through

A Market Town Of Some Importance.

 

"You Mentioned That You Wished To Buy Some Things; Why Not Come With

Us?" She Said To Ethel.  "We Could Drop You Going Out And Call For You

Coming Home.  Susan Will Have The Big Car Full, So She Couldn't Take

You, And It's A Long Drive To The Station And The Trains Run Awkwardly."

 

Sylvia's Motive Was Easy To Discern, But Ethel Agreed.  She Was, On The

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