Greatheart - Ethel May Dell (the lemonade war series TXT) 📗

must not treat me as--a servant."
She saw his look change. The anger went out of it, but something that was more terrible to her took its place, something that she could not meet.
She flinched involuntarily, and in the same moment he drew her close to him. "Ah, Daphne, the adorable!" he said. "I've never seen you at bay before! You claim your privileges, do you? You think I can refuse you nothing?"
She shrank at his tone--the mastery of it, the confidence, the caress.
"You needn't be afraid," he said, and bent his face to hers. "Whatever you wish is law. But don't forget one thing! If I refuse you nothing, I must have everything in exchange. 'Love the gift is Love the debt,' my Daphne. You must give me freely all that you have in return."
She trembled in his embrace. Those passionate words of his frightened her anew. Was it possible--would it ever be possible--to give him--freely--all that she had?
The doubt shot through her like the stab of a dagger even while she gave him the kiss he demanded for her audacity. Her victory over him amazed her, so appalling had seemed the odds. But in a fashion it dismayed her too. He was too mighty a giant to kneel at her feet for long. He would exact payment in full, she was sure, she was sure, for all that he gave her now.
She was thankful when a ceremonious knock at the door compelled him to release her. Biddy presented herself very upright, primly correct.
"If ye please, Miss Dinah, Mrs. Everard is awake and will be pleased to see ye whenever it suits ye to go to her at all."
"Oh, I'll go now," said Dinah with relief. She glanced at Eustace. "You don't mind? You don't want me?"
"No, I have some business to discuss with Stumpy," he said. "Perhaps I will join you presently."
He took out a cigarette and lighted it, and Dinah turned; and went away with the old woman.
"And it's to be hoped he'll do nothing of the kind," remarked Biddy, as they walked through the long drawing-room. "For the very thought of him is enough to drive poor Miss Isabel scranny, specially in the evening."
"Is--is Miss Isabel so afraid of him?" asked Dinah under her breath.
Biddy nodded darkly. "She is that, Miss Dinah, and small blame to her."
Dinah pressed suddenly close. "Biddy, why?"
Biddy pursed her lips. "Faith, and it's meself that's afraid, ye'll find the answer to that only too soon, Miss Dinah dear!" she said solemnly. "I can't tell ye the straight truth. Ye wouldn't believe me if I did. Ye must watch for yourself, me jewel. Ye've got a woman's intelligence. Don't ye be afraid to use it!"
It was the soundest piece of advice that she had ever heard from Biddy's lips, and Dinah accepted it in silence. She had known for some time that Biddy had small love for Sir Eustace, but it was evident that the precise reason for this was not to be conveyed in words. She wished she could have persuaded her to be more explicit, but something held her back from attempting to gain the information that Biddy withheld. It was better--surely it was sometimes better--not to know too much.
They met Scott as they turned out of the drawing-room, and Biddy's grim old face softened at the sight of him.
He paused: "Hullo! Going to Isabel? Has she had a good rest, Biddy?"
"Glory to goodness, Master Scott, she has!" said Biddy fervently.
"That's all right." Scott prepared to pass on. "Eustace hasn't gone, I suppose?"
"No, he is in there, waiting for you." Dinah detained him for a moment. "Scott, he--I think he is going to--to let that man off with a light sentence."
"What?" said Scott. "Dinah, you witch! How on earth did you do it?"
He looked so pleased that her heart gave a throb of triumph. It had been well worth while just to win that look from him.
She smiled back at him. "I don't know. I really don't know. But,--Scott"--she became a little breathless--"if--if he really wants me to-morrow, I think--p'raps--I'd better go."
Scott gave her his straight, level look. There was a moment's pause before he said, "Wait till to-morrow comes anyway!" and with that he was gone, limping through the great room with that steady but unobtrusive purpose that ever, to Dinah's mind, redeemed him from insignificance.
"Ah! He's the gentleman is Master Scott," said Biddy's voice at her side. "Ye'll never meet his like in all the world. It's a sad life he leads, poor young gentleman, but he keeps a brave heart though never a single joy comes his way. May the Almighty reward him and give him his desire before it's too late."
"What desire?" asked Dinah.
Biddy shot her a lightning glance from her beady eyes ere again mysteriously she shook her head.
"And it's the innocent lamb that ye are entirely, Miss Dinah dear," she said.
With which enigmatical answer Dinah was forced to be content.


CHAPTER IX
THE BURDEN

Sir Eustace was standing by the window of the little boudoir when his brother entered, and Scott joined him there. He also lighted a cigarette, and they smoked together in silence for several seconds.
Finally Eustace turned with his faint, supercilious smile. "What's the matter, Stumpy? Something on your mind?"
Scott met his look. "Something I've got to say to you anyway, old chap, that rather sticks in my gullet."
Sir Eustace laughed. "You carry conscience enough for the two of us. What is it? Fire away!"
Scott puffed at his cigarette. "You won't like it," he observed. "But it's got to be said. Look here, Eustace! It's all very well to be in love. But you're carrying it too far. The child's downright afraid of you."
"Has she told you so?" demanded Eustace. A hot gleam suddenly shone in his blue eyes. He looked down at Scott with a frown.
Scott shook his head. "If she had, I shouldn't tell you so. But the fact remains. You're a bit of an ogre, you know, always have been. Slack off a bit, there's a good fellow! You'll find it's worth it."
He spoke with the utmost gentleness, but there was determination in his quiet eyes. Having spoken, he turned them upon the garden again and resumed his cigarette.
There fell a brief silence between them. Sir Eustace was no longer smoking. His frown had deepened. Suddenly he laid his hand upon Scott's shoulder.
"It's my turn now," he said. "I've something to say to you."
"Well?" said Scott. He stiffened a little at the hold upon him, but he did not attempt to frustrate it.
"Only this." Eustace pressed upon him as one who would convey a warning. "You've interfered with me more than once lately, and I've borne with it--more or less patiently. But I'm not going to bear with it much longer. You may be useful to me, but--you're not indispensable. Remember that!"
Scott started at the words, as a well-bred horse starts at the flicker of the whip. He controlled himself instantly, but his eyelids quivered a little as he answered, "I will remember it."
Sir Eustace's hand fell. "I think that is all that need be said," he observed. "We will get to business."
He turned from the window, but in the same moment Scott wheeled also and took him by the arm. "One moment!" he said. "Eustace, we are not going to quarrel over this. You don't imagine, do you, that I interfere with you in this way for my own pleasure?"
He spoke urgently, an odd wistfulness in voice and gesture.
Sir Eustace paused. The sternness still lingered in his eyes though his face softened somewhat as he said, "I haven't gone into the question of motives, Stumpy. I have no doubt they are--like yourself--very worthy, though it might not soothe me greatly to know what they are."
Scott still held his arm. "Oh, man," he said very earnestly, "don't miss the best thing in life for want of a little patience! She's such a child. She doesn't understand. For your own sake give her time!"
There was that in his tone that somehow made further offence impossible. A faint, half-grudging smile took the place of the grimness on his brother's face.
"You take things so mighty seriously," he said. "What's the matter? What has she been saying?"
Scott hesitated. "I can't tell you that. I imagine it is more what she doesn't say that makes me realize the state of her mind. I can tell you one thing. She would rather go shopping with Isabel to-morrow than picnicking in the wilderness with you, and if you're wise, you'll give in and let her go. You'll run a very grave risk of losing her altogether if you ask too much."
"What do you mean?" Eustace's voice was short and stern; the question was like a sword thrust.
Again Scott hesitated. Then very steadily he made reply. "I mean that--with or without reason, you know best--she is beginning not to trust you. It is more than mere shyness with her. She is genuinely frightened."
His words went into silence, and in the silence he took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. It had been a more difficult interview for him than Eustace would ever realize. His powers of endurance were considerable, but he had an almost desperate desire now to escape.
But some instinct kept him where he was. To fail at the last moment for lack of perseverance would have been utterly uncharacteristic of him. It was his custom to stand his ground to the last, whatever the cost.
And so he forced himself to wait while his brother contemplated the unpleasant truth that he had imparted. He knew that it was not in his nature to spend long over the process, but he was still by no means sure of the final result.
Eustace spoke at length very suddenly. "See here, Stumpy!" he said. "There may be something in what you say, and there may not. But in any case, you and Dinah are getting altogether too intimate and confidential to please me. It's up to you to put the brake on a bit. Understand?"
He smiled as he said it, but there was a gleam as of cold steel behind his smile.
Scott straightened himself. It was as if something within him leapt to meet the steel. Spent though he was, this was a matter no man could shirk.
"I shall do nothing of the kind," he said. "Do you think I'd destroy her trust in me too? I'd sell my soul sooner."
The words were passionate, and the man as he uttered them seemed suddenly galvanized with a new force, a force irresistible, elemental, even sublime. The elder brother's brows went up in amazement. He did not know Stumpy in that mood. He found himself confronted with a power colossal manifested in the meagre frame, and before that power instinctively, wholly involuntarily, he gave ground.
"I see you mean to please yourself," he said, and turned to go with a sub-conscious feeling that if he lingered he would have the worst of it. "But I warn you if you get in my way, you'll be kicked. So look out!"
It was not a conciliatory speech, but it was the outcome of undoubted discomfiture. He was so accustomed to submission from Scott that he had come to look upon it as inevitable. His sudden self-assertion was oddly disconcerting.
So also was the laugh that followed his threat, a careless laugh wholly devoid of bitterness which yet in some fashion inexplicable pierced his armour, making him feel ashamed.
"You know exactly what I think of that sort of thing, don't you?" Scott said. "That's the best of having no