CHAPTER VIII
THE FIRST DAY
The ayah, who had set down the guest's things, closed the door behindher without a sound. As the girl removed her hat she was rapidlyopening the bag and taking from it such things as she needed. Then,placing a chair before the tiny mirror, she invited Olwen to be seated,with a mute gesture of obeisance.
Hardly realising what was required of her the girl sat down. Kneelingbefore her, her new attendant swiftly unlaced her thick boots and heldthe little feet in her hands with a caressing touch, as though she wouldhave chafed warmth into them.
"Too much cold," she muttered, relinquishing them as if unwillingly andputting on the buckled shoes. Then, rising before the girl hadrecovered from her astonishment, she took a linen wrapper which hungupon a chair, passed it over the young lady's shoulders, pulled out herhairpins, and let loose the rippling cascade of hair.
"You are very kind, but, please, I don't expect you to wait on me; I doall these things for myself," expostulated Olwen in some embarrassment.
"Missee, let ole ayah brush her hair--so long since me had prettymemsahib to dress," murmured the cooing voice. The brush passed throughwith a motion firm yet gentle; it tingled, as though there werehypnotism in the touch. It seemed to leave the mass burnished andgleaming with a new beauty. In a very few minutes all was deftly coiledonce more, following the usual style in which its owner dressed it, butdone twice as well as she could ever accomplish.
Hot water was in readiness, and having washed her hands the visitor,feeling strangely refreshed, was ready to follow her silent-footed guidedown that weird winding stair. When they reached the front door theydid not emerge into the hall, but walked on, in the thickness of thewall, to a small, tapestry-hung doorway which opened into thedining-room.
In this room two large windows had been cut;, one was semicircular andset just under the arch of the barrel vault at the south end. It wastoo high to afford a view, but the sun streamed down through it. On thewest wall an oriel had been built out, and this commanded a fineprospect of the river valley below and the rising ground beyond.
As Olwen entered she came upon the mother and son unawares, and the lastwords of what they were saying were clearly audible to her. Mrs. Guysehad made some remark which ended with "all the easier to manage," andNinian, before he realised the visitor's presence, replied with somebitterness, "I'm not so sure."
As they became conscious of her they fell silent. Nothing in the wordsthemselves, but something in the silence, suggested that they had beentalking of her.
They sat down to table, the ayah waiting upon them. Under the highwindow in the south wall was a hatch, communicating with the adjacentkitchen, and through this the dishes were passed by Mrs. Baxter. Thefood was abundant and very well cooked and served.
Both the Guyses seemed distressed that their guest drank only water; andafter cheese had been served Sunia reappeared with a tray of coffee,which seemed to be an innovation from the manner in which Mrs. Guysereceived it.
"Do Missee good. Missee must drink something," lured the Hindu inexplanatory fashion.
Olwen was prompt in polite protest, but Ninian remarked that it was ajolly good scheme, and he couldn't think why they didn't always have it.When the ayah had left the room he said to his mother, "She seems tohave taken to Miss Innes."
"Yes. A very good thing. She's so troublesome with her likes anddislikes," said Mrs. Guyse peevishly. She rose from the table and stoodin an irresolute fashion, glancing first at Olwen, then at her son withmuch the expression a dog wears when he is wondering whether his masterwill take him for a walk.
"What are you going to do, Nin?" she asked.
"Got to go over to Lachamigg with Ezra. The blizzard has broken downthe new fencing, and we'll have all the ground game in after those youngtrees."
"Oh! Then you can't entertain Miss Innes." She glanced vaguely at thegirl who stood by the oriel in the sunshine, which turned her burnishedhair into a nimbus. Madam cleared her throat. "Do you think you canamuse yourself for a while, Miss Innes? I am going to have my afternoonnap," she said with a silly little laugh.
"O please don't study me in any way; of course I don't wantentertaining! Why, I've come here to be useful. Let me make youcomfortable for your rest. Do you lie down in this room?"
"Oh, no, upstairs in my own boudoir. I never sit down here in winter.Don't come up. I would rather you did not. I shall come down to tea atfive."
Olwen begged so earnestly to be allowed to carry her book and shawlupstairs that this was conceded. At the door of her sitting-room,however, the lady shut out her companion with decision, and Olwen, notdaring to face the arctic cold of her bedroom, returned with reluctanceto the dining-room, where Ninian still sat, finishing his pipe.
There was a shabby old sofa and two or three comfortable chairs by thefire, and on a sunny day such as this the room seemed eminentlyhabitable. The girl went again to the western oriel and surveyed thescene beneath her. The tower stood on the sheer verge of theprecipitous hill, but beneath this window there was a very narrow path,from which steps led downward. The whole hillside was thickly coveredwith trees, and the tops of these, snow-laden, appeared from above likea mountain range in miniature. Among the woods in the vale below therewas a wide stream, now blocked with ice and snow, but, as she imagined,lovely in summer-time.
"That is a river down there in the valley?" she asked after a time ofsilent contemplation.
"It is a river. So kind of you to throw the poor dog a bone--I mean aword."
She glanced at the book in his hand. "Which is French for saying that Iinterrupt your reading!"
He tossed the book aside, rose and came to the window. "That's theGuyseburn. It runs into the Irthing. It's a bad-tempered stream; theone thing it will not stand is a bridge. I've tried several times tomake a way across, just down below here, but it was whisked away everywinter, so I must wait until I can afford something different. Lowerdown, where the cliff comes nearer the water, we have got one of thesechain bridges, which is safe but wobbly. You won't like it much whenyou first cross, especially if the water's high."
"This is a wonderful place," she said, surveying the barrel vault; "morelike a cathedral crypt than a dining-room. Have you always lived here?"
"Oh, no. Only for the last ten years. In my father's day it was usedas a shooting-box, but when he died I had to come here and farm thelittle bit he had left us to keep the wolf from the door. He was a rarewaster was my father, but a very fine gentleman. Would have suited youfirst rate."
"Oh! You think I like wasters?"
"I feel sure you like fine gentlemen."
"Do you? Well, I don't know myself. I never met one that I know of.My grandfather is very simple, you might say Spartan in his habits. Myuncle, George Whitefield, is a successful manufacturer, loud andpushing. My own father was a Bohemian--a waster, too, perhaps you wouldcall him, but I loved him best of all."
"Rum, that. Fancy your liking a man who didn't consider appearances!You, whose code is founded on prunes and prisms."
"Yes, I suppose I _am_ very conventional. I am glad you have found itout so soon," she replied at once, declining provocation.
"My father used to say he was the fulfilment of the old saying in thiscountry," went on Ninian--
"'_No Guyse_ _Is ever wise_ _Until he dies._'
"Rather awful to be born with a name so easy to tack rhymes to. How doyou like this?
"'_Any Guyse_ _With green eyes_ _Will tell you lies._'"
Instinctively she raised her look to his. The strong sunlight was uponboth their faces, emphasising her curious colouring--the warm skin toodark for the hair and the heavy lashes. She thought that his eyes werelike those of a leopard, green and golden, flashing an unspoken menace.
"I should think that rhyme is founded on fact," she remarked.
"Thought you'd say that. The first time yo
u have been obvious, I willadmit that much. Well, I must be off, or it will be dark by the time weget to the farm. Think you can live without me till five?"
"I'll have a try. It's a thing I've often done before. What time, ifany, does the post go out?"
"If the drifts are not too deep the postman will arrive here to-morrowmorning about ten, and he will take your letter back with him. I hearhe couldn't get through this morning, but we will hope for better lucknext time. Anyway, your folk won't be anxious. You sent a message fromCaryngston, didn't you?"
With these words he went out into the vestibule. She heard himwhistling for his dog, and presently the sound of the oak door banging.
"If what I wanted was change, indeed it seems that I have found it," washer reflection, as she sat down by the warm hearth.
As she did not, so far, know where the library was, and had no idea ofthe sort of cataloguing required, she felt unable to make any move inthe direction of commencing her new work. Madam had definitely sent heroff duty until five, and she had therefore no scruple in sitting down tobegin a letter to Aunt Ada. She made this letter a good deal moresanguine than her present frame of mind, for she did not wish to letthem know how depressed she felt, nor how out of place and forlorn. Shedwelt upon the surprising nature of her situation from the architecturalstandpoint, the piquant experience of being weather-bound at the countryinn, and her first experience of a sleigh drive.
She wrote until the last red streak died in the western sky above thethick woods across the Guyseburn. Then she laid down her pen, wonderinga little that she was not frightened at finding herself alone in thisvaulted chamber. So wondering, her eyes closed, and she slipped intodreamland, only awakened by the entrance of a stout, middle-aged womancarrying a lighted lamp.
"Eh, but I've woke ye up!" said she, standing with her hands on her hipsand contemplating the small girl in the large chair.
"Nobbut a bairn, so you are," she went on, "but ayah says you're a realbeauty." She looked critical, as though her own judgment did notendorse that of the Hindu. "Happen ye're tired out, after sooch a longdrive in t' snaw?" she suggested.
Olwen was tickled by the woman's honesty, and laughed out "Perhaps Iam," she admitted, "and you may be able to raise your opinion of mylooks after a while in this good air. I'm a town-bred creature; allthis wild moorland is like a fairy tale to me."
"Ah, ye'll soon get your fill o' that," said Mrs. Baxter calmly."Dooll, that's what it is oop here. Woon day joost t' same as lasst,all the year roond."
"Why, it doesn't snow all the year round, surely! I just long to seethis valley in summer-time."
"Oo, ay, it's fine soomer-time, I will say that," replied thenorth-country woman, taking a white cloth from a drawer and spreading iton one end of the table. As she laid tea she continued to talk,explaining that both she and her husband were born in that part of theworld and were used to solitude, cold and monotony. In return, Olwentold her of her own town-life, and how she had never hitherto known whatit was to live without taxi-cabs, telephones and typewriters.
Just as the deeply interested Mrs. Baxter had brought in the covereddishes of hot cake and the silver tea-pot, the front door was heard tobang, there was a sound of scraping and stamping feet, and with a wildscurry some big creature hurled itself against the door leading from thehall, which yielded, and a golden collie bounced in, rushed to thehearth, and stopped short at sight of a stranger there ensconced,backing, with shoulders hunched and a threatening growl.
"Eh, the brute!" cried Mrs. Baxter, catching him by the collar. "MusterNin, here's Daffie showing his teeth at the yoong leddy."
Nin from without shouted some abuse, and the dog bounded back to hismaster. When they returned together soon after the man effected anintroduction, made the dog shake a paw, and instructed Olwen to bestow asweet cake upon him in token of alliance.
Madam now appeared, a shawl over her shoulders, entering, as Olwen haddone, by way of the tapestry hangings.
What conversation there was at tea turned upon the broken fencing. Ninsaid the ground was as hard as iron, no repair was possible, but Ezraand he had done their best with some wire netting. Madam had evidentlyno conversation, apparently no ideas. Olwen remembered what her son hadsaid of her, and felt a vague pity. She herself made little effort totalk, but what she did say fell flat, since the master of the house wasapparently tongue-tied before his mother.
"Do you play billiards?" he suddenly asked.
"A very little. The Whitefields have a table, but I am much out ofpractice."
"Not much reach," said Nin, with another scornful glance at her lack ofinches. "Well, the one solitary thing that is good here is the billiardtable."
"A billiard-room--here?" cried Olwen, hardly polite in her surprise.
"A billiard-room here!" he mimicked derisively. "Come upstairs and youshall see. Knocking the balls about helps to keep one from suicideduring the long winter nights."
"Only I don't play," said Madam.
"Well, I shan't cut holes in your table. I do just know how to hold acue," said Olwen. "If you have a great deal of skill and patience youmay be able to teach me to play."
"Good notion. Plenty of chance for flirtation in teaching a girl toplay billiards. Shall have to allow you to stand on the table for yourlong shots, I should think," said the young man with apparently no senseof his own ill-breeding.
Olwen made no reply to this, glancing at Madam to see how she took thiskind of language to her new companion upon the first evening.
Nin nudged his mother. "Look at her! She simply can't stand my cheek!"
"I don't wonder," rapped out his mother with sudden emphasis. "Why doyou behave so intolerably?"
Ninian looked somewhat taken aback. "Crushed again," he said. "Whatchance has one poor man against two ladies? Daff, come here and take mypart. Shall I teach you to bite the nasty cross things--eh?" Hecaressed the dog as it stood between his knees. "Sorry I introduced youto the school-marm, Daff. She likes poodle dogs, trained to walk ontheir hind legs and show off. She's got no use for simple rustics likeyou and me--have you, Miss Innes?"
"But perhaps rustics can be educated?" she suggested with a smile,unwilling to snub him too decidedly before his mother.
"Hallo!" with an instant change from bravado to soft insinuation. "Willthe school-marm undertake our education?"
"That depends upon your wish to learn."
"I simply long to learn! I'll be a model pupil. When shall we begin?A lesson in manners after tea, a lesson in deportment after supper, alesson in charm before breakfast, and----"
"A lesson upon holding your tongue in between each, I should think," cutin his mother suddenly, and evidently to his surprise.
"The first lessons would have to be language lessons," remarked Olwendemurely. "I couldn't tell you anything until we could understand oneanother. At present we don't."
"Now what, precisely, do you mean by that?" sharply.
She smiled provokingly. "I can't explain in words you wouldunderstand."
He turned himself round in his chair, leaned his elbow on its back, hischin in his hand, and stared fixedly.
"It's a deal," he then said. "When does the first lesson come off?"
"That," she replied with a very small smile, "will depend upon what timeI have to spare after my other duties are all done."
The Lonely Stronghold Page 8