The Quicksilver Pool

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The Quicksilver Pool Page 19

by Whitney, Phyllis A. ;


  “Years afterwards Ambrose told me about it,” Serena said to Lora. “Morgan always had to do things in extremes. She asked him for a whipping, even pleaded for one. I suppose the poor thing felt she could expiate her guilt if she hurt herself enough. But Ambrose wasn’t the beating sort of father.”

  “She should have been whipped,” Lora cried indignantly. “What a wicked thing to do!”

  “Children often do wicked things.” Serena’s tone was gentle. “But that doesn’t mean they are wicked. The punishment Ambrose gave her without intention was worse than any whipping. I believe her father has always been the one person whose love and admiration she really wanted as a child. She and her mother were never close, and Mrs. Ambrose died shortly after Virginia was married. She always wanted her father’s respect. And she tried to gain it in the wrong ways, as children do so perversely sometimes. But Ambrose is simple and good and there’s no cruelty in him. He could never understand Morgan and her behavior must always have bewildered him, even while he wanted to help her.”

  “Did Wade’s mother know what really happened?” Lora asked.

  “Gracious no! I can’t think what she’d have done to Morgan. Wade never told her, and no one else dared. But I heard Mother Tyler use the accident against him one time when he was older. She said, ‘Remember—if you put yourself on an iron fence, you’ve got to be man enough not to fall off.’”

  Lora shivered. “What a dreadful thing to say.” In her imagination she could see Wade, hurt in spirit as well as in his physical body. He must have felt that he had proved himself a coward, though in fact he’d showed more courage than either Morgan or Adam, who lacked the imagination to be afraid in the first place, and so were in much less danger.

  “Afterwards,” Serena said, getting up to return to her sorting of towels, “Morgan couldn’t do enough for Wade, and of course everything she did was wrong. She had a genius as a child for alienating those she wanted to have like her. I really believe she was more sensitive than Virginia and I’m sure she suffered deeply in the knowledge that her younger sister could always gain easily what she could never have. Only her suffering was all within herself and for herself. She never stepped into anyone else’s shoes to understand his feelings. So there it is, Lora. Not a very pretty story.”

  “It helps me to understand why Wade must dislike her,” Lora said.

  Serena shook her head. “That’s the strange part. He never seemed to hold what happened against her. He distrusted her, but she had some sort of fascination for him too. He blamed no one except himself for the accident. I don’t think he regretted getting up on that fence so foolishly. He only regretted falling, and he never blamed Morgan for that. No, this late avoidance of her has its roots in the more recent past. But I don’t really know what might have caused it.”

  Tenderness for Wade welled in Lora’s heart. She could see the picture more clearly now. Even though there were still gaps she could understand far better.

  She fell to watching the fire again. “He needed Virginia a great deal, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Serena said, slapping her hand at a frayed towel as if it offended her. “He needed her, of course. But I’m not at all sure her way was good for him.”

  Lora looked up quickly. “Sometimes I’ve thought that myself. And yet his mother’s way hasn’t been good for him either. And there isn’t any other way. Either you love a person as he is and forgive him his faults, or you can’t forgive those faults and you try to make him into something else. At least I can understand why he’s having such a hard time recovering from the accident of Virginia’s death.”

  Serena glanced at her uncertainly and then came to a decision. “There are some who say her death was not an accident. Perhaps that is something you ought to know.”

  Lora blinked in bewilderment.

  “You might as well know what has been rumored, though you needn’t believe it. I’m not sure that I do myself. But there have been whispers of suicide.”

  “Suicide? But why? Surely Virginia wouldn’t …”

  “Wade admitted to some quarrel with her a week or so before her death—something he blamed himself for. That was strange because Virginia was never the sort to quarrel. However, there is Mrs. Tyler to consider. I suspect that she did her best to make Virginia unhappy. Perhaps she succeeded beyond her hopes.”

  “But Mother Tyler has only praise for Virginia now,” Lora protested. “She keeps holding her up to me as a model wife.”

  Serena lost her tolerant attitude for the first time. “Of course! She has to find some way make you unhappy. Oh, but she makes me furious, that old woman! I can be generous to Wade and even to Morgan—but I can only see blame as far as Mrs. Tyler is concerned. She would go to any lengths to gain her own ends. Why do you suppose Wade and Virginia had separate rooms in that house? His mother took care of that. Anything to keep them apart. She told Virginia that Wade didn’t sleep well at night, that he had never been strong. Separate bedrooms were a necessity. Since Virginia was never one to stand up to her, any more than Wade could stand up to her, that was the way it was. Virginia had been brought up with her parents servants on the premises and she lacked Morgan’s strongheaded ways. But we’ve talked of unhappy things long enough, Lora. I’ve just tried to give you the glimpse of the past that you asked for. The present is something else. The present is you, my dear … and, frankly, I think you’re the very best thing that has ever happened to Wade. Much better for him than Virginia.”

  Lora could only shake her head despairingly. She was not in the least sure of this herself.

  The doorbell startled them with its ring and Serena’s brow puckered. “Oh, dear, someone to spoil our visit, I’m afraid.”

  A moment later Adam came knocking on the door to ask if their woman-talk was over, as a matter of great importance had arisen. He ushered in Hester Wylie, the young woman whom Lora had met the night of Serena’s party. She greeted them both gaily and plunged at once into the purpose of her errand.

  She was planning a February sleighing party in a week or two and wanted Serena’s help. Adam had already promised to escort his sister, and of course Wade and Lora Tyler must come too.

  “We must get Wade back into the middle of things,” Hester said to Lora. “I’m sure neither of you is having fun stuck in that dark old house.”

  “And, after all,” said Adam, “we must have our fun.”

  Hester made a face at him, undaunted. “We’re not forgetting the war, you know. We’re planning this especially for some officers who are home on leave, and for a certain ex-prisoner of war named Adam. I wish Edgar could be here, too, Serena, dear.”

  “So do I,” said Serena, and Lora thought guiltily that she had been so concerned with her own affairs that she had not even asked about Edgar. How much Serena would miss him, and how courageously she concealed it.

  Before Lora went home that morning, the plans for the sleighing party had been endorsed and abetted by Serena, and Lora had been drawn into an agreement to persuade Wade to come.

  When she broached the matter to him that evening in the library, she found that such persuasion was not too difficult. The Christmas party had given him a taste of the social life he had once indulged in so heartily and this affair promised a few hours’ release from the gloomy atmosphere of the house.

  He had led a difficult day at the beck and call of his mother, and Lora could read the discouragement in his eyes. Her mood of tenderness, aroused by Serena’s story, held and she reached for his left hand where it lay idly on the sofa between them. She took it into her own, tracing the white welts of the old scar on its back.

  “Serena told me how this happened,” she said softly. “She gave me the whole story of that day.”

  “Serena is a gossip.” Wade would have drawn his hand away, but she laced her fingers between his.

  “This was not gossip. I want to know all about you. I want to know things that happened when you were young. You were a brave little boy to walk that
fence that day.”

  “I wasn’t in the least brave. Morgan was right—I was a coward about that fence.”

  “But you climbed it,” Lora persisted. “You went ahead in spite of being afraid—that’s what really makes bravery.”

  “A man is judged by his successes, not his failures,” Wade said. “But this is something I no longer want to think about or discuss.”

  She could sense his withdrawal, but she had so few opportunities to talk to him alone that she held to her purpose.

  “Everyone likes you, Wade. Jemmy wants so much to love you. He needs to love you. But you hold everyone off while you convince yourself that you are—well, somehow unworthy. Do you do this because you could never fit the pattern your mother chose for you?”

  “I have always disappointed her, if that’s what you mean.”

  There was a warning in his voice which would have discouraged her if she had been less intent on her own designs. But this was her chance to launch into the subject which Morgan had brought up to her.

  “Your mother isn’t the world. There are others who believe in your talents, others who need your help.”

  He watched her, his guard still up. “What lies behind all this maneuvering, Lora?”

  “I’m not being very clever about it, am I?” she admitted. “Very well—I’ll tell you straight out. Two weeks ago Mrs. Channing invited me up to her house for tea.”

  She could sense his stiffening. “You declined, I trust?”

  “No—I accepted. I saw no reason for declining. I don’t want to carry on old feuds. The matter Mrs. Channing wanted to talk to me about is bigger and more important than any small feud.”

  He rose impatiently to replenish the fire. “Have. I not enough worries at this time, Lora? Must you add to them by striking up a ridiculous friendship with this woman who has done nothing but injure me?”

  “This is scarcely a friendship,” Lora said. “I believe you are as interested as I am in any plan which might lead to a halting of this dreadful war.”

  “And what has Morgan Channing to do with such plans?” he asked over his shoulder, prodding the fire with impatient thrusts of the poker. “Why should she even care?”

  “I’m not sure why.” At least, Lora thought, she had caught his interest, and she went on quickly. “Perhaps she likes the sense of power she gains from mixing into politics. Perhaps she’s in love with this Murray Norwood and is interested for his sake. I don’t know. It might even be that she has holdings in the South that will eventually become worthless or lost to her altogether if the war goes on. Is that possible?”

  Wade set the fire screen in place and wiped his hands on a linen handkerchief. “It seems quite likely. Nicholas left her considerable property in the South and if I know Morgan she would dare anything to cling to her wealth. But is so selfish a motive any reason why we should trust her?”

  “Don’t you see, Wade?” Lora leaned toward him earnestly. “It doesn’t matter if her motives are selfish, providing they are sincere. There are very definite plans afoot which this Mr. Norwood is mixed into. Mrs. Channing says even Governor Seymour approves of them and will be behind them unofficially.”

  “And where do I fit into this little fantasy?”

  “Mr. Norwood needs you. He needs men here on the island who are liked and have some influence. There are ways in which you could help.”

  “Influence—I?” His laughter was unbelieving.

  “You have only to talk to him. Nothing more if you decide against it. Let Morgan know when you would be available for a meeting with him at her house.”

  In the silence of the room the distant, insistent ringing of a small silver bell reached them.

  “I’ll have to see what she wants,” Wade said wearily. “Ellie has probably gone to bed by now.”

  Lora put a quick hand on his arm. “First, tell me, Wade—you will see Mr. Norwood? Perhaps there’s nothing to all this, but if you’ll just talk to him—”

  “With Morgan behind him, and in her house?” Wade asked. “Indeed I will not. I’ll have nothing to do with the matter, or with either of them.”

  And he went off to answer the summons of his mother’s bell. Lora leaned her head against the sofa and toasted her feet before the fire. At least she had made a first attempt. Since her talk with Serena she was sure that something must be done to draw Wade from his retreat into himself and into the past. He needed to be coaxed out of this house, given a chance to put his hands to some work that he could feel was important and worth while. Something that would make him look outside himself.

  It occurred to her that there was another step which might be managed in connection with the sleighing party. She would ask Serena about it tomorrow.

  Her thoughts turned again to her visit with Serena that morning and the rumor that Virginia had taken her own life. Was there something more here which Wade and his mother had not published to the world? Did Wade himself believe this? If he did, how much greater his suffering must be than she had suspected.

  XVII

  February turned obligingly snowy and by the time set for the sleighing party the roads were packed with frosting. All the island sparkled beneath the sun or shone in gleaming purity under the moon. Now the bare branches of the trees made a fragile tracery against the white, adding to this winter beauty.

  The evening was frosty and clear, and cold stars hung like bits of ice in the dark sky. There was much champing of bits and the stamping of horses’ hooves as the Lords’ sleigh waited in the lane for its load. Bells arched above the harness and chimed musically at every move the horses made. Two other sleighs were to join them farther down the hill and by the time the party was on its way there would be some forty young people and married couples in the group.

  Lora wore the plainest of her new dresses—a gown of dark-blue wool, but without hoops, of course—and she and Wade were well bundled into coats, with wool mufflers around their heads and ears, and warm mittens protecting their hands. All seats except the driver’s had been removed from the big sleigh and the body filled with fresh, clean straw. As Lora and Wade reached the Lord house, they found Adam and some of the other men carrying out hot bricks, well wrapped in strips of old blanket. The ladies remained snugly indoors until all was ready, but Adam barred Lora’s way, laughing down at her when she would have mounted the steps.

  “Hello, Lora. Hello, Wade. No, you don’t—no scooting inside! All you fragile little ladies can come out now and pile aboard. Somebody’s got to keep these bricks warm.”

  Adam had a striped stocking cap, which probably belonged to Eddie, pulled well over his ears, and a red plaid muffler wound twice about his neck. His nose was pink with the cold and his eyes very bright. He looked, Lora reflected, like a boy who had been let suddenly out of school and was intent on action and mischief. There was about him somehow a quality both irritating and engaging.

  The ladies came hurrying out the door, bundled to their ears, twittering and laughing, and even those men who were in uniform were released and gay for the evening. One after another the ladies were helped into the sleigh and settled themselves in the straw, like nesting birds.

  Before Lora found a place she stood for a moment looking out upon the drive, watching the open door from which light spilled brightly as guests ran down the steps. She was searching for two faces in particular, and she did not see them. Serena, puffing a little as her brother helped her unceremoniously into the sleigh, caught her searching look.

  “It’s all right,” she whispered. “We’re picking them up at the ferry landing. Mr. Norwood had to make a trip over to town and Morgan went to meet his boat. I don’t know why you’re anxious to effect a reconciliation between Morgan and Wade, but I’ve done what you asked. She and Mr. Norwood are joining us.”

  Lora settled down in the straw, pulling a hot brick toward her feet, and a few moments later they had all piled in. She was not sure how it happened, but the married partners seemed to have separated for the trip out. W
ade was near the back of the sleigh with Hester Wylie beside him, while Adam Hume managed to take the place next to Lora. She was not entirely pleased at his company, but managed a polite smile.

  “Good,” he whispered under the racket the others were making. “I’m glad to see the corners of your mouth turn up for a change. You’ve been worrying too much lately.”

  She had no answer to that. Her worries were none of Adam’s affair and she doubted that he would understand them. From time to time she was aware of his eyes upon her, without mockery now, and she could not be sure what he was thinking.

  The driver cracked his whip and the four horses put their weight into the pull. The idle jingle of sleigh bells took on a steady and musical rhythm to the trot of the horses. Beneath the runners snow squeaked and crunched and a cold wind whipped into their faces. Lora found herself snug and comfortable beneath the buffalo robe, with a brick hot at her feet, and she relaxed into an enjoyment of this new experience, paying little attention to the silent man beside her.

  There were starts and stops as other sleighs joined the party, and from the shelter at the ferry landing Morgan and Murray came hurrying to take their places in the Lords’ sleigh. In spite of herself, Lora found her attention fixed on Wade as Morgan approached. She had to lean forward just a little to see his face and she was aware that Adam drew back at her side to give her a better view. Once more she saw the darkening surge of color beneath Wade’s fair skin, saw how quickly he turned to speak to Hester as if he had not seen Morgan at all.

  Unbidden, Serena’s words came to mind. Serena had said Wade was afraid of Morgan. Why? For what reason, unless perhaps that he distrusted himself where she was concerned? But that was something Lora did not want to believe. Wade had truly loved Virginia. There was never any doubt about that.

 

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