by Sara Seale
"Well, I'm afraid " began Mark with a smile, and he cut him short with "Of course you're not."
She kicked a stone violently out of her path and walked along in silence for a little, then she said, as if she could keep it in no longer, "Mark, is Julie going to marry the Swann?"
He didn't reply at once, wondering what she was really thinking, then he said carelessly, "I really don't know, Gina. You'd better ask her."
"Was that impertinent?" she said, flushing a little.
"No, of course not," Mark said quickly. "I didn't mean to snub you. But really I'm as much in the dark about Julie's affairs as you are. Why should you think she should necessarily mean to marry the man, though?"
"Well, he's the only man friend of hers who comes to the house as a regular thing, or whom she seems to take the slightest interest in," Gina said shrewdly enough. "And she does seem to be fond of him in a queer sort of way."
"Oh, well, that doesn't always mean anything."
"Would you hate Julie to marry Victor?"
"Well, I can't say I frightfully want him as a brother-in-law," Mark said with a laugh.
"But you wouldn't mind Julie marrying again?" persisted Gina.
He looked amused. "On the contrary, I always hoped she would. She's young still, and very good-looking. You see, Julie and I haven't kept house together since our very poverty-stricken days when we weren't much older than you are now. That wasn't for very long either."
"No, you were never like Sebastian and me, were you?" she said thoughtfully.
"No," he agreed with a rather wry smile, "we were never like Sebastian and you," and Gina glanced at him swiftly, thinking that Julie could never have brought very much affection into their relationship, although she was fond of her brother in her odd, undemonstrative fashion.
"I wish you were coming home next week-end," she said a little unhappily.
He looked at her sharply. "Why?"
"Oh, I don't know. I just wish you were."
Mark had wondered for some time if Gina was troubled by Swann's attentions. He so obviously couldn't keep his hands off any woman for long, and since Julie had taken the girl in hand, she had lost a lot of the fledgeling aspect, which in his case might have been her protection.
"Gina—the man doesn't worry you, does he?" he asked, finding it a little difficult to discuss the thing without taking for granted details which might not in fact exist.
Gina thought a moment before she replied. She, too, found it difficult to put forth hints without revealing too much. So she ended by hedging. "What do you mean exactly—worry me?"
"Well, does he make love to you?" asked Mark bluntly.
"Oh, no," replied Gina, who would never have dreamed of applying such a term to Victor's covert strokings and squeezings.
They walked on in silence, each busy with their thoughts. Mark was at times a little worried about Gina. Girls were such odd, secretive creatures, 'and so much could hurt them. He reflected that Julie wasn't really much sanctuary for Gina. That distressing antagonism between them didn't allow either for confidence or understanding. He wondered again why Julie disliked the girl so much. So often she seemed to go out of her way to scold and snub. He supposed that Julie and Gina shouldn't really live in the same house together but it was 'a little difficult to make any other arrangement when Gina was as young as this. Even supposing she was Capable of earning her own living, she could not possibly live alone, and for the present there was always Sebastian.
II
Gina was right. Sebastian was still further unsettled by Doyle's visit. All the following week he was restless, and discontented, cursing Mark for the most part for making him sit for his scholarship. It was hard for Gina to urge him to work, since her own inclinations were so much in sympathy. There was very little to take her away from the Barn House just now, except on cubbing mornings, for Evan was back at his University, likewise the few young men of his age whose people lived in the place. It was a bore not to be able to go off for the day somewhere with Sebastian whenever they felt inclined and, unless she went off by herself, it meant she was left much in Julie's company.
She dreaded the week-ends when Victor Swann was a guest in the house. He came rather frequently now, and it was not always possible to keep out of his way. Gina had little experience of men as old as Victor, and he frightened her. She did not dare to confide in Julie, knowing instinctively that her stepmother would be her enemy in a matter of this kind, and she did not like to speak too frankly to Sebastian for fear he should seize the first opportunity to have a royal row with Swann. Sebastian rather enjoyed trailing his coat.
Victor came down on Friday evening, and Gina, in her bath, heard Sebastian playing the Dead March in Saul downstairs. She grinned to herself, lay and splashed a little longer, then got reluctantly out and began to dry. With her usual practice of wrapping herself in a huge towel and running quickly to her room which was only next door, without bothering to put on a dressing-gown, she emerged from the bathroom at an unfortunate moment. Swann, who had that minute arrived, was finding his own way to his room, and was just then coming along the gallery towards her.
"Good evening, Gina, I like your costume," he greeted her, and smiled broadly, revealing his excellent teeth. She tried to slip past him, but he was too quick for her, and caught her by one bare shoulder. "Whence the hurry, my dear? Not cold, surely, after such a hot bath. You feel as warm as toast," he said, and ran his fingers slowly over her skin.
She shivered violently. "Let me go to my room, please," she said. "I'm not properly dressed."
"Most improperly, I should say. Quite abandoned, but very charming," he said, and slowly bent his head. She thought he was going to kiss her shoulder, and darted back, and at the same moment, Julie came out of her room on the other side of the gallery, and saw them.
"Gina! What are you doing standing there like that? Go to your room at once and put something on," she said so sharply that Victor jumped.
"Oh, hullo, Julie!" he said jovially, if a little guiltily.
"How are you? I met your fair stepdaughter on the way from the bath."
Gina slipped swiftly into her room and shut the door, and Julie, after a hard look at Victor's smiling face, came forward slowly and accompanied him to his room.
Gina was very quiet through dinner, and sat listening to Victor holding forth in his usual high-handed manner, and barely spoke a word all the evening. She wore one of her new dinner-frocks and Mark's jade necklace, and several times Julie caught Victor's gaze resting on her.
After dinner he suggested dancing, for the express purpose, Julie was sure, of being able to touch Gina. The girl tried to excuse herself on the grounds that she was tired, that she had hurt her foot, anything which came into her head, until at last Julie became annoyed.
"Don't be so silly, Gina. It's the first I've heard of all these excuses," she said. "It's not very polite, do you think? Besides, I'm getting tired myself, and Victor wants to dance."
She was obliged to give in, and Sebastian watched with enjoyment her efforts to hold herself away from the man, not seeing that she was miserable and afraid.
"What an unwilling little partner," Victor said above her head, then lowering his voice, added, "But a reluctant woman is ten times more attractive."
Gina felt sick, and ran into Mark's study as soon as she could escape, and curled up in one of his leather armchairs. But the room was cold without a fire, and she was forced to go into the drawing-room. Fortunately Victor and Julie were still dancing, and presently Sebastian came and joined her by the fire.
"It was as good as a play to watch you two," he said, sitting down beside her on the rug.
"I hate the man," she said with such loathing in her voice that he asked her what was wrong.
"Oh, can't you see?" she cried. "He's beastly in every way. I'm afraid of him."
"My dear old Ginny, aren't you rather exaggerating?" he said with a laugh. "The man's an awful bounder, I know, but he's so awfully ob
vious."
"He's beastly," she said again.
"Does he annoy you? Shall I speak to him for you? Say the word, darling, and I'll start such a row as never was," said Sebastian, the light of battle already shining in his eyes.
"Oh, no, don't say anything. I expect I'm just stupid, that's all," she said a little wearily. That was the worst of Sebastian. He only thought of the fun.
She went up to bed early and, as luck would have it, met Victor on the stairs. Julie was nowhere to be seen. He stood barring her way and smiling down at her.
"You know what the toll for passing is, don't you?" he said.
"Why do you behave like this with me when you must see I hate it?" Gina demanded desperately, wanting if possible to avoid a scene with him.
"Because you're such fun, Gina," he said with a soft little laugh. "You haven't been made love to much before, have you?—Come along, give me a little kiss to show there's no ill-feeling."
"If you don't leave me alone while you're staying here, I'll tell Julie," said Gina a little hysterically.
He made a small grimace. "Do you think she'd believe you?" he inquired with interest.
"She must know you by now," said Gina.
"My dear little girl, Julie sees just what she wants to, and always has," Victor told her. "She's a very sensible woman, and a very handsome one at that. Julie and I understand each other. Come on now, be nice to me."
"Sebastian! Will you come and help me with something?" she called out, and Swann stood 'aside immediately.
"Little devil!" he whispered as she passed him.
"It's all right, I've managed, thanks," she said from the gallery as her brother came into the hall. "Good-night, darling."
The next day he appeared to have forgotten her and devoted himself to Julie. Sebastian spent all day at the piano, too utterly absorbed in his music to notice his sister's dejection, and Gina wandered about, longing for the day to come to an end. Victor was motoring Julie to see some friends of his thirty miles away on Sunday, so that would mean a respite.
By tea-time she had become more at ease. Victor was still taking very little notice of her, and after an early dinner he was to escort Julie to one of the Saturday night hotel dances at Eastcliff.
Reading in bed last thing, Gina heard the others come in, and after an interval during which she supposed Victor was drinking his usual whiskey and soda, she heard Julie's voice, as they parted at the head of the stairs, say: "Early start tomorrow, Victor. I don't want to be late back." There was the sound of a yawn, and after an interval a smothered laugh from Julie 'as she said, "You silly old thing! Go along to bed." Then Victor's heavy tread as he passed her door to his own room next to hers.
He must have seen the light under her door, for he began to knock a soft little tattoo on the dividing wall. Presently, however, this stopped, and Gina, listening intently, heard him moving about next door. She slipped out of bed and turned the key in the lock, then put out her light and lay down.
She must have dozed off when a sound outside her door brought her back to consciousness. It was the creak of a loose board and presently in the dim light she could just make out her door handle slowly turning. She sat bolt upright in bed, the blood pounding in her ears, and when she heard the little click as the lock held firm, she wondered what good fairy had prompted her to turn the key. The handle revolved slowly back again, and presently there was a faint rattling sound which puzzled her at first, until with a soft thud, the key fell on the carpet. He must have poked it through from the other side, and Gina, shaking in every limb, was just wondering if she had better scream or not, when a door banged in the house somewhere. She heard the loose board creak again, and almost immediately the sound of his bedroom door softly closing. It was some minutes before she could nerve herself to get out of bed and lock the door again. She dragged a heavy chair across the room and wedged it under the handle, then got back into bed again and lay shivering so violently that her teeth chattered. It was dawn before she dared go to sleep, and then she was so exhausted that she slept without waking when the gong went, and it was the noise Sebastian made hammering on her door that eventually woke her.
"Hi, Gina, wake up! It's 'after half-past ten. Let me in, will you? I've brought you some tea," he shouted.
"All right. Wait a minute," she called back, and jumping out of bed, removed the chair from the door and turned the key in the lock. Sebastian looked at her with a puzzled air as he came in, carrying a cup of tea in one hand and a plate of toast in the other.
"What's the idea?" he asked suspiciously.. "Have you been barricading yourself in? You evidently didn't mean to be disturbed."
She took the tea from him 'and drank it eagerly, standing in the middle of the room in her crumpled pyjamas. Sebastian stood and watched her.
"You look rotten, Ginny. Aren't you feeling well?" he asked her.
"Sebastian—last night " she began, then pulled herself up sharply. She must give herself time to think before she put forward such an unlikely story to any of the household. "I felt rather sick," she ended. "I'll be better later on."
"Poor darling. Take it easy today," he sympathized, still looking at her rather curiously.
"I'm all right," she replied. "What time are the other two starting?"
"They've just gone. Julie wanted to make an early start. Victor's in rather a filthy mood this morning."
"Well, I'll get dressed now if you'll clear out. Here, take this cup."
She sat down at her dressing-table and wondered what she should do. She had the wit to know that it was useless to go to Julie with a tale of this kind, and Sebastian, if he knew, couldn't, after 'all, do very much but create a scene. She decided it was best to say nothing, but to change her room temporarily. When she was dressed, she went to look for the housemaid and told her what she wished to do, but here she met with failure.
"Mr. Swann is in the oak room, Miss Gina," the girl said. "And Mrs. Gale has kept the blue room locked ever since you and Mr. Sebastian kept your sick ferrets there. She has the key herself. If you ask her for it when she comes in, I'll make up the bed, miss."
All day Gina deliberated, and by the time the evening came, she had worked herself into a state of nerves that was even apparent to Sebastian.
"What is the matter, Gina? You're like a flea on a drum, and your eyes look like two burnt holes in a blanket," he said, but she put him off with some excuse, and by the time the tea-things were cleared, she had determined to ask Julie for the key of the blue room and risk her questions. She couldn't face another night with Victor fumbling at her bedroom door.
She went up early to dress, so that she could catch Julie as soon as she came back. She heard them both come in about a quarter to seven, and presently they dispersed to their respective rooms. As soon as she heard Victor's door shut, she slipped out of her room and along the gallery and knocked on her stepmother's door.
"Who is it? Oh, you, Gina. You're dressed very early."
Julie was sitting in front of her dressing-table. She had removed her hat and coat and dress, and was sitting in 'a blue wrapper, beginning to let down her hair. "Well, what is it?"
"Can I have the key of the blue room, please, Julie?" Gina asked.
"Why do you want to go in there? No more sick ferrets, I hope," Julie said with a laugh. She was evidently in a good mood. Gina watched the shining dark coils of hair released from their knot, and Julie's white fingers began shaking out the strands. She had very fine hair, and had never had. it cut.
"I want to sleep in there tonight," said Gina.
She saw Julie's reflected eyebrows lift in the mirror, though she did not turn round, but merely said firmly, "My dear, of course you can't do any such thing. The room isn't even cleaned. You can't expect the maids to get it ready at this hour. Anyway, they're probably out."
"I don't want it cleaned. I only want the bed made up. I'll do that myself. I can move the things from my own bed. I needn't have fresh linen," said Gina eagerly.
&
nbsp; Then Julie turned round. "What on earth new fad is this?" she demanded slowly. "You do get the most extraordinary ideas, Gina. Why can't you sleep in your own room tonight? Are there mice or something?"
"Julie—please let me sleep in the blue room. It can't make any difference to anyone. I won't make any extra work," the girl pleaded.
Her stepmother turned round again to her mirror and began to brush out her hair. "My dear, I really think you're a little crazy sometimes," she said. "If you can't give me any sensible reason for wanting to change, I can't see the wisdom of indulging you over such an absurd thing. Run away, dear, I want to get on."
Her face in the mirror was calm and unimaginative, and Gina felt her self-control slipping.
"Julie, I can't sleep in my room tonight. I Can't. I can't. You must let me change, you must, Julie."
Julie frowned slightly, 'and said, "You sound rather hysterical. If you feel as strongly as this about it you surely must have a reason." She never stopped brushing her hair, and to Gina, overwrought as she was with the accumulating events of the whole week-end, there was something deliberately maddening in those rhythmical, steady strokes, and the girl clenched her hands at her sides and said in a voice which was barely steady:
"Julie, you must understand—Victor "
"Victor?" Julie was moved at last. The' brushing ceased, 'and she sat motionless before her dressing-table, staring into the glass. "What has Victor got to do with you changing your room?"
Gina should have been warned by Julie's voice which was suddenly hard and unyielding, but by this time she was too strung up to know what she was saying, and the words tumbled from her lips in frightened jerks.
"Last night he tried to get into my room. I'd locked the door, but he poked the key through from the other side. I was terrified. But you must see now that I must change my room to this side of the house. I couldn't bear it to happen again. I couldn't."
There was a complete silence, then Julie said icily, "I don't think you can have any idea of what you are saying. How do you dare to come here 'and tell me a story like this about a guest of mine? Poked the key through from the other side! What a tale! And what happened then?"