The Safety Curten - Ethel May Dell (reading books for 5 year olds txt) 📗

with the astounding news that Mrs. Tudor was waiting in the compound to know how he was.
Phil shot upright in amazement.
"Good Heavens, man! She herself?" he ejaculated.
His brother officer nodded, grinning.
"What's to be done? Send out word that you're still alive though not too chirpy, and would she like anything to drink on the veranda? I can't go, you know; I'm not dressed."
"Don't be an ass! Clear out and send me my bearer."
Phil spoke with decision. Since Mrs. Tudor had elected to do this extraordinary thing, it was not for him to refuse to follow her lead. He was too far in her debt, even had he desired to do so.
His bearer, therefore, was dispatched with a courteous message, and when Phil entered the veranda a quarter of an hour later he found her awaiting him there.
"This is awfully kind of you," he said, as he grasped her outstretched hand. "I was horribly put out about you! You are none the worse?"
"Not a mite," she assured him. "And you? Your arm?"
He made a face.
"Raleigh was with me half the night, watching for dangerous symptoms; but they didn't develop. He cauterized my arm as a precaution--a beastly business. He hasn't been round again yet, but I believe it's better. Yes, it was a poisonous bite. It would have been the death of me in all probability, but for you. He told me so. I--I'm awfully obliged to you!"
He coloured deeply as he made his clumsy acknowledgments. He did not find it an easy task. As for Audrey, she put out her hands swiftly to stop him.
"Ah, don't!" she said. "You did a far greater thing for me." She shuddered and put the matter from her. "I'm sure you ought not to be up," she went on. "I shouldn't have waited, only I thought you might feel hurt if I went away after you had sent out word that you would see me. I think I'll go now. Good-bye!"
There came the jingle of spurs on the veranda, and both started. The colour rose in a great wave to the girl's face as she saw who it was, but she turned at once to meet the newcomer.
"Oh, Eustace," she said, "so you are back already from the parade-ground!"
He did not show any surprise at finding her there.
"Yes; just returned," he said, with no more than a quiet glance at her flushed face.
"How are you, Phil? Had any sleep?"
"Not much," Phil owned, with unmistakable embarrassment. "But Raleigh says I'm not going to die this time. It was good of you--and Mrs. Tudor--to look in. Won't you have something? That lazy beast Travers isn't dressed yet!"
"Oh, yes, he is!" said Travers, appearing at that moment. "I'll punch your head for you, my boy, when we're alone! Hullo, Major! Come to see the interesting invalid? You'll have some breakfast, won't you? Mrs. Tudor will pour out tea for us."
But Tudor declined their hospitality briefly but decidedly, and Audrey was obliged to support him.
Travers assisted her to mount, expressing his regret the while; and when they were gone he turned round to his comrade with a grin.
"The major seems to be in a genial mood this morning," he remarked. "Had they arranged to meet here?"
But Phil turned back into the bungalow with a heavy frown.
"The major's a bungling fool!" he said bitterly.


CHAPTER V
THE BARRIER

Tudor was very quiet and preoccupied during breakfast, but Audrey would not notice it; and when at length she rose from the table she laid her fingers for a second on his shoulder in a passing caress.
He turned instantly and took her hand.
"Just a moment, Audrey!" he said gravely.
She stopped unwillingly, her hand fidgeting ineffectually to be free.
He rose, still holding it in a quiet, strong grasp. He was frowning slightly.
"I only want to say," he said, "that what you did this morning was somewhat unusual, though you may not have been aware of it. Please don't do it again!"
Her cheeks flamed, and she met his eyes defiantly. She left her hand in his rather than prove her weakness, but quite suddenly she was trembling all over. It was a moment for asserting her freedom of action, and she fully meant to do so; but she was none the less afraid.
"I was aware of it," she said, speaking very quickly before his look could disconcert her. "But then what I did last night was unusual, too. Also what Phil Turner did for me. You--you don't seem to realise that he saved my life!"
"I think you discharged your debt," Tudor returned, with a certain dryness that struck her unpleasantly.
"What else could I have done?" she demanded stormily. "If you had been in my place--"
He stopped her.
"I was not discussing that," he said. "I have not blamed you for that. Under the circumstances, you did the best thing possible. But I can't say the same of your conduct this morning; and since you knew that what you did was highly unconventional, I blame you for it. I hope you will be more careful in the future."
Audrey was chafing openly before he ended.
"You treat me like a child," she broke in, the instant he paused. "You don't give me credit for any judgment or discretion of my own."
He raised his eyebrows.
"That is hardly remarkable," he said.
She snatched her hand from him at last, too exasperated for the moment to care what she did or how she did it.
"It is remarkable," she declared, her voice quivering with wrath. "It--it's intolerable. And there's something else that struck me as remarkable, too, and that is that you didn't think it worth while even to thank Phil for--for saving my life last night. I think you might have expressed a little gratitude, even--even if you didn't feel it."
The bitter words were uttered before she realised their full bitterness. But the moment she had spoken them she knew, for his face told her.
A dead silence followed her outburst, and while it lasted she was casting about wildly for some means of escape other than headlong flight. Then, as if he read her impulse in her eyes, he moved at last and turned aside.
She did not hear his sigh as she made her escape, or even then she might have scaled the barrier that divided them, and found beyond it a better thing than the freedom she prized so highly.


CHAPTER VI
MRS. TUDOR'S CONFESSION

"Come in and sit down, Mrs. Tudor. Mrs. Raleigh isn't at home. But she can't be long now. I have been waiting nearly half an hour."
Phil Turner hoisted himself out of the easiest chair in the Raleighs' drawing-room as he uttered the words, and advanced with a friendly smile to greet the newcomer.
"Oh, isn't she in?" said Audrey. "I am afraid I took her for granted at the door."
"We all do," he assured her. "It is what she likes best. Do you know, I haven't seen you for nearly a fortnight? I called, you know, twice; but you were out."
Audrey laughed inconsequently.
"Why don't you treat me as you treat Mrs. Raleigh?" she said. "Come in and wait, next time."
Phil smiled as he handed her to the chair he had just vacated.
"The major isn't so kind to subalterns," he said. "He would certainly think, if he didn't say it, that it was like my cheek."
Audrey frowned over this.
"I don't see what he has to do with it," she declared finally. "But it doesn't signify. How is your arm?"
"Practically convalescent, thanks! There's nothing like first aid, you know. I say, Mrs. Tudor, you weren't any the worse? It didn't hurt you?"
He looked down at her with anxiety in his frank eyes, and Audrey was conscious suddenly that he was no longer a mere casual acquaintance. Perhaps she had been vaguely aware of it before, but the actual realisation of it had not been in her mind till that moment.
She laughed lightly.
"Of course not," she said. "How could it? Don't be so ridiculous, Phil."
His face cleared.
"That's right," he said heartily. "Don't mind me. But I couldn't help wondering. And I thought it was so decent of you to come round and look me up on that first morning."
Audrey's smile faded.
"I am glad you thought it was decent, anyhow," she said, with a touch of bitterness. "No one else did."
"Oh, rot, Mrs. Tudor!"
Phil spoke hastily. He was frowning, as his custom was when embarrassed.
She looked up at him and nodded emphatically.
"Yes, it was--just that," she said, an odd little note of passion in her voice. "I never thought of these things before, but it seems that here no one thinks of anything else."
"Don't take any notice of it," said Phil. "It isn't worth it."
"I can't help myself," said Audrey. "You see--I'm married!"
"So is Mrs. Raleigh." Phil spoke with sudden heat. "But she doesn't care."
"No, I know. But her husband is such an old dear. Everything she does is right in his eyes."
It was skating on thin ice, and Phil at least realised it. He made an abrupt effort to pull up.
"Yes, I'm awfully fond of Major Raleigh," he said. "By the way, he's an immense admirer of yours. Your promptitude the other night quite won his heart. He complimented your husband upon it."
"Did he? What did Eustace say?"
There was more than curiosity in Audrey's voice.
"I don't know."
Phil's eyes suddenly avoided hers. He spoke in a dogged, half-surly tone.
Audrey sat and looked at him for a moment. Then lightly she rose and stood before him.
"Tell me, please!" she said imperiously.
He made a sharp gesture of remonstrance.
"Sorry," he said, after a moment, as she waited inexorably. "I can't!"
"Oh, but you can!" she returned. "You're not to say you won't to me."
He looked down at her.
"I am sorry!" he said less brusquely. "But it can't be done. It isn't worth a tussle, I assure you, nor is it worth the possible annoyance it might cause you if you had your way. Look here, can't we talk of something else?"
She laid her hand impulsively on his arm.
"Tell me, Phil!" she said.
He drew back abruptly.
"You put me in a beastly position, Mrs. Tudor," he said. "I hate repeating things. It isn't fair to corner me like this."
"Don't be absurd!" said Audrey. Her face was flushed and determined. She was bent upon having her own way in this, at least. "I shall begin to hate you in a minute."
But Phil could be determined, too.
"Can't help it," he said; but there was genuine regret in his voice. "You'll have to, I'm afraid."
He was scarcely prepared for the effect of his words. She flung away from him in tempestuous anger and turned as if to leave the room. But before she reached the door some other impulse apparently overtook her. She stopped abruptly with her back to Phil, and stood for what seemed to him interminable seconds, fumbling with her handkerchief.
Then, before he had fully realised the approaching catastrophe, her self-control suddenly deserted her. She sank into a chair with her hands over her face and began to cry.
Now, Phil was young, and no woman had ever thus abandoned herself to tears in his presence before. The sight sent a sharp shock through him that was almost like a dart of physical pain. It paralysed him for an instant; but the next he strode forward, convention flung to the winds, desirous only to comfort. He reached her and bent over her, one hand upon her shaking shoulder.
"I