CHAPTER XXX
OF A TRULY MEMORABLE OCCASION
The silence was broken only by the plodding hoofs of Diogenes, thecreak of harness and rattle of wheels, while Diana grew lost inthought and I in contemplation of Diana; the stately grace of herslender, shapely form, the curve of her vivid lips, the droop of herlong, down-swept lashes, her resolute chin and her indefinable air ofnative pride and power. All at once her sombre look gave place to asmile, her slender hand tightened upon the reins, and glancing up Isaw that we had reached a place where four roads met, and here, seatedbeneath the finger-post was a solitary, shabbily dressed old manabsorbed in a book; roused by the sound of our approach, he glanced upand I recognised the ancient person, Lord Wyvelstoke.
"It's my old man!" said Diana, and waved her hand in joyous greeting,whereupon he arose and doffing his weather-beaten hat, bowed whitehead in stately greeting.
"Surely it is my pleasure to behold my courageous young Amazon," saidhe, limping forward. "Greetings, fair Penthesilea!" and taking thehand she reached out to him, he kissed it gallantly.
"And you are still alone!" said she, smiling down at him as she hadnever smiled at me. "Are you always alone?"
"Always!" he answered, sighing. "Though I have my books--and an oldman's dreams. But, God bless you, child, how radiant you look; youseem the soul incarnate of this glorious day."
"And this is Peregrine," said she a little hastily, with a wave of herhand in my direction.
"Sir, I trust I see you well!" said I, bareheaded and bowing, and hislordship, glancing at me for the first time, recognised me despite myaltered appearance.
"Mr. Vereker," quoth he, with another bow, "this is a twofoldpleasure! So you are acquainted with my Penthesilea?"
"Yes, sir, though I know her as Diana!"
"But my real name's Anna, sir--as I tells you at the fair," she added.
"Yes," answered his lordship, "and you called me your old pal, Iremember. Yet Mr. Vereker is indubitably right, for Diana you surelyare, as fair as the chaste goddess, as brave and--"
"As nobly good!" said I.
"Assuredly, sir!" he nodded, in the quick, decisive way I remembered."The eyes of Age are as quick to recognise purity as the eyes of Love,and a great deal less prejudiced."
"If you're saying all this about me--don't!" quoth Diana. "Because Iain't a goddess and don't want to be. And now, old gentleman, it'sgettin' lateish and I've supper to cook, so if you'm going our way letme give you a lift; there's plenty o' room for you 'twixt Peregrinean' me."
"No, no," sighed his lordship with a somewhat sad and wistful smile."You have each other, and I am old and wise enough to know that age isno fit companion for youth and beauty--"
"But I like old folks," said Diana in her direct fashion. "I like you,your voice and grand manners; it's plain you was a fine gentlemanonce--though your coat wants mendin'."
"Indeed, I fear it is almost beyond mending," answered his lordship;"but it is a favourite, and old like myself, though I am glad you canfind it in your heart to be kind to an old fellow in a shabby coat--"
"What's a coat matter?" smiled Diana. "Peregrine's was worse thanyours."
"Yes," nodded his lordship. "I fancy it was, and I'm glad--very gladthat you like me also, Diana; it does me good, child."
"Why, then, come on up," she commanded, reaching out her hand to himin her imperious manner.
"Pray do, sir," said I. "It would be an honour and pleasure."
"It'll save your poor, old, stiff leg, sir!" added Diana.
"Ah, Diana, fair goddess," said he in his placid, stately manner,"when you put my disturbers to such ignominious flight at the fair,you graciously unbent enough to address me as 'your old pal'--"
"You seemed s' very lonely!" she explained.
"Child," he sighed, "I am lonely still!"
"Why, then," said she in her gentlest voice, smiling down into hiswistful face, "come on up, old pal, an' forget your lonelinessawhile."
And now his lordship smiled also, and having pocketed his book,climbed into the cart with our assistance and seated himself betweenus.
"This," sighed he, as Diogenes ambled on again, "is exceedingly kindin you, to burden yourselves thus with a solitary and garrulous oldman--"
"What's garrulous?" demanded Diana.
"Talkative, my child, excessive verbosity--Mr. Vereker will doubtlessremember our conversation on music," said he, with a whimsical glanceat me.
"Indeed, yes, sir," I answered. "I was greatly interested."
"Well, I like to hear you talk, too," said Diana, "you speaks likePeregrine does, only he says such silly things, and he's a great dealtoo cocksure of himself into the bargain!"
"Concerning which," said his lordship gently, "you may have remarkedthat Mr. Vereker possesses a chin."
"What's his chin to do with it? You've got one--so have I for thatmatter."
"True, child, we all three possess chins that typify dogged resolutionto a remarkable degree--"
"Peregrine's hatefully dogged; I know that!" sighed Diana.
"Excellent youth!" nodded our aged companion, regarding me withtwinkling eyes.
"And Diana is excessively and unreasonably illogical!" I retorted.
"Adorable maiden!" sighed his lordship, glancing at Diana.
"Lord, Peregrine, how can you say such things!" she exclaimedindignantly. "He only says it because he wants to marry me!" sheexplained into our companion's right ear. "If I don't tell you he willin a minute; he tells it to every one."
"Perspicacious youth!" nodded his lordship.
"And Diana very foolishly attempts to deny me, for no just or adequatereason," I explained into his left ear.
"Extremely natural and feminine!" nodded his lordship.
"Because of his grand aunt and fine uncles for one thing," said Diana.
"And for what other reason?" I demanded.
"Just because!"
"Because of what?"
"Never mind!"
"And there you have it, sir!" I exclaimed. "Did you ever hear suchfutile answers?"
"Often, and generally from the loveliest lips, Mr. Vereker--"
"Pray, sir, call me Peregrine if you will: and, sir," said I, graspinghis worn left sleeve, "I beg you to advise me in this matter, for youare so wise--"
"Never heed him, old pal!" cried Diana, grasping his right sleeve."Peregrine only thinks he ought to marry me because he bought me andfolks talk and--"
"Pardon me, dear child, but how and where may one purchase a goddess?"his lordship enquired. "You said 'bought', I think?"
"Yes, he bought me for fourteen guineas, a florin, one groat and threepennies!" and in two breaths, or thereabouts, she had recounted thewhole incident.
"Admirable!" exclaimed his lordship, glancing from one to other of uswith shining eyes. "Ridiculous! Magnificent!"
"And that's the only reason he wants to marry me--"
"There you are wrong, Diana, and most unjust!" said I indignantly."You know my chief purpose in wedding you is to take you from thiswandering life and shield you from all hardship and coarseness."
"And what of love, Peregrine?" enquired his lordship, gently. At thisI hesitated, glanced down at the gleaming buckles of my new shoes,glanced up at the blue serenity of heaven, and finally looked atDiana, to find her watching me beneath scowling brows.
"And there you have it!" said she in disdainful mimicry, "he--he don'tknow!"
The Ancient Person smiled and laid his small, white hand upon Diana'sbrown fingers.
"But then, dear child with the wise, woman's eyes--you have seen andsurely know." Now at this Diana glanced swiftly from him to me andthen, to my amazement, flushed hotly and drooped her head. "Ah, yes,"sighed his lordship, "I see you know, child, so what matter?"
"Sir," said I, "what do you mean?"
"Peregrine, I touch upon an abstract theme and therefore one bettersensed than described, so I will not attempt it." Here, to my furthersurprise, Diana nestled closer to him and whispered
something in hisear.
"I believe," said the Ancient Person, after Diogenes had plodded somelittle distance, "I believe you are camping with Jessamy Todd?"
"Yes, sir, but pray, how did you learn this?"
"Well, I know the redoubtable Jessamy rather well."
"We'm settled in the wood beyond Wyvelstoke Park," added Diana, "alongby the stream."
"I know it," nodded his lordship, "I have killed many a fine troutalong that same stream. I shall do myself the pleasure of finding youone of these days, if I may?"
"Pray do sir," said I eagerly, "you will find Jeremy Jarvis the mostwonderful tinker in the world and one who writes poetry besidesmending kettles and shoeing horses."
"This has been a truly memorable occasion," said his lordship, "I feelmyself honoured by your confidence, it has given me a new interest inmy solitary life."
"And why are you so solitary?" questioned Diana.
"Because old age is usually solitary, and because in my youth, whenLove came to me, I was a coward, by reason of worldly considerations,and let it plead in vain, alas! And thus, although my friends weremany in those days, my empty heart was always solitary, and now--myfriends are mostly dead, and I am--a childless, lonely old man!"
The white head drooped disconsolate, the slender, delicate hands wrungeach other, and then about these bowed and aged shoulders Dianaclasped protecting arm and stooped soft cheek to his.
"Ah, poor old soul, don't grieve!" she murmured. "Here's Peregrine andme will be your friends and pals, if you'll have us, and if you'reever very lonely or in want, come to us--wait!" Then, opening hergipsire, and before I could prevent, into those slender fingers shethrust a bright, new guinea; for a long moment his lordship stareddown at the coin while I grew alternately hot and cold. When at lasthe lifted his white head I saw his keen eyes dimmed with unshed tears.
"Why, child?" he murmured. "Generous girl--"
"No, don't!" she smiled. "Don't say anything! Only let me be yourfriend to cheer your loneliness an' help you now an' then."
Lord Wyvelstoke stared at the coin in his palm as if it had been avery rare and curious object, then, having deposited it carefullywithin an inner pocket, he bared his head in his courtly fashion.
"Diana," said he, "sweet friend, you have given me something preciousas my vanished youth and more lasting; accept a once solitary oldman's gratitude. Mr. Vereker--Peregrine, you who stand perhaps where Istood years ago with the best of all things in your reach--grasp it,boy, follow heart rather than head, and may you find those blessings Ihave never known. Here, I think, is the advice you sought of me--forthe rest, you are a Vereker, sir, and carry honour in your name. Andnow is good-bye for a time; my way lies yonder," said he, pointingtowards a by-lane. So here we stopped and down sprang I to aid ourAncient Person to alight.
"You'll come soon and let me patch your coat?" said Diana, giving himher hand.
"Assuredly!" he answered, with his quick, decisive nod. "Meantime, Godbe kind to you both, your friendship has lifted much of the heavinessof years from my heart and I shall walk the lighter henceforth!" Sosaying, he bent and kissed Diana's hand, shook mine vigorously andlimped away.
"A dear old man!" said Diana, looking after him gentle-eyed.
"I wonder," said I, "I wonder what he meant by that talk regarding my'head and heart'--"
"How should I know?"
"But what do you think?"
"That you'd better get in if you're goin' to!" Obediently I clamberedinto the cart, whereupon Diana prodded the somnolent Diogenes intomotion.
"Where did you meet his l--that Ancient Person, Diana?"
"At the fair. Hooky Sam and two pals tried to rob him, an' him such apoor, lonely old soul, only I stood 'em off, made 'em cut their stick,I did."
"But he had a pistol--"
"What--him? Well if so, he didn't have t' use it, my little_churi_ was enough."
"Indeed, you are far braver than I was, Diana--"
"Tush! There's few men as won't cut and run from a female if she's gota knife--an' means t' use it."
"This was why he named you Penthesilea."
"Who's she?"
"She was a Queen of the Amazons and fought at Troy--"
"What's Amazons?"
"Fierce, terrible women who hated men and loved to fight."
"Well, I hates a fight, so don't you go calling me Penthe--whateverher name was."
"No, Diana, I would have you her very opposite, if possible."
"How d'ye mean?"
"I'd have you a lady, sweet-mannered, soft-voiced, tender andgentle--"
"Like your aunt? But she ain't exactly a pet lamb, Peregrine, nor yeta cooin' dove--now, is she? And as for me I'm just--"
"My goddess Diana!"
"Was the real goddess a lady?"
"Well, I--I suppose so--but I want to ask you--"
"No, tell me about her--the goddess Diana."
"Well, besides Diana, she was called Cynthia, Delia, Ancia, Orthia andseveral other names--"
"And all of 'em pretty, too!"
"And she was passionately fond of hunting."
"And didn't like men overmuch, did she?"
"Well, it appears not. She changed Actaeon into a stag and had himdevoured by her dogs--"
"Which wasn't very ladylike, Peregrine--that was coming it a bit toostrong, I think! Why did she do it? Poor young man!"
"Because he spied upon her--at her toilet."
"Was that all? d'ye mean he catches her undoin' her curl papers?"
"She was--bathing!"
"Oh!" said Diana. "Well, poor young man! She'd got modesty pretty bad,I think, and if all goddesses are like her--"
"They were not."
"Oh, well, let's talk o' something more human-like--"
"Ourselves!" I suggested.
"Well, I sold every one o' my baskets and earned fifty-six shillings.How much money did you spend, Peregrine?"
"I'm not sure, but about twenty-seven pounds, I fancy."
"Pounds?" she cried so suddenly that Diogenes pricked his ears. "Forthem noo duds--"
"Horrible!" I exclaimed.
"It is!" said she. "It's wicked robbery--"
"I mean your grammar, Diana, and the word 'duds', whatever it maymean, sounds atrocious, especially on your lips--"
"Oh, tush! d'ye mean as they charges you all that money for themnew--"
"Those!" I corrected.
"Things you're wearing--"
"You forget the despised locket and chain," said I reproachfully, "andI also purchased two silver watches--"
"Watches? Two on 'em? What for?"
"One for our Tinker and one for Jessamy," I explained.
"Foolishness!" she exclaimed.
"Indeed, madam?"
"It's wicked waste o' money--an' don't call me 'madam'!"
"I suppose I may be permitted to spend my money to please myself,girl?"
"I s'pose so, boy! Easy come, easy go! You can get more any time yewant, just for the askin', can't you? But you wouldn't spend s' gayan' careless if you had to earn your money, to slave an' sweat forit--not you!"
"How do you know?" I demanded in towering anger.
"Just because!"
"I consider you are very--exceedingly--" I checked the word upon mylips and scowled.
"Well? Very exceedingly--what?" she demanded.
"Never mind!"
"I don't!" she retorted, and flicked Diogenes to speedier gait, forevening was beginning to fall.
Peregrine's Progress Page 32