CHAPTER VI
_Of the sad condition of the Haunting Spectre of the Might Have Been_
Dapplemere Farm House, or "The Manor," as it was still called by many,had been built when Henry the Eighth was King, as the carved inscriptionabove the door testified.
The House of Dapplemere was a place of many gables, and latticedwindows, and with tall, slender chimneys shaped, and wrought into thingsof beauty and delight. It possessed a great, old hall; there werespacious chambers, and broad stairways; there were panelled corridors;sudden flights of steps that led up, or down again, for no apparentreason; there were broad, and generous hearths, and deep window-seats;and everywhere, within, and without, there lurked an indefinable,old-world charm that was the heritage of years.
Storms had buffeted, and tempests had beaten upon it, but all in vain,for, save that the bricks glowed a deeper red where they peeped outbeneath the clinging ivy, the old house stood as it had upon that farday when it was fashioned,--in the Year of Our Lord One Thousand FiveHundred and Twenty-four.
In England many such houses are yet to be found, monuments of the "BadOld Times"--memorials of the "Dark Ages"--when lath and stucco existednot, and the "Jerry-builder" had no being. But where, among them all,might be found such another parlour as this at Dapplemere, with its low,raftered ceiling, its great, carved mantel, its panelled walls whenceold portraits looked down at one like dream faces, from dim, andnebulous backgrounds. And where might be found two such bright-eyed,rosy-cheeked, quick-footed, deft-handed Phyllises as the two buxom maidswho flitted here and there, obedient to their mistress's word, orgesture. And, lastly, where, in all this wide world, could there ever befound just such another hostess as Miss Anthea, herself? Something ofall this was in Bellew's mind as he sat with Small Porges beside him,watching Miss Anthea dispense tea,--brewed as it should be, in anearthen tea-pot.
"Milk and sugar, Mr. Bellew?"
"Thank you!"
"This is blackberry, an' this is raspberry an' red currant--but theblackberry jam's the best, Uncle Porges!"
"Thank you, nephew."
"Now aren't you awful' glad I found you--under that hedge, UnclePorges?"
"Nephew,--I am!"
"Nephew?" repeated Anthea, glancing at him with raised brows.
"Oh yes!" nodded Bellew, "we adopted each other--at about four o'clock,this afternoon."
"Under a hedge, you know!" added Small Porges.
"Wasn't it a very sudden, and altogether--unheard of proceeding?" Antheaenquired.
"Well, it might have been if it had happened anywhere but in Arcadia."
"What do you mean by Arcadia, Uncle Porges?"
"A place I've been looking for--nearly all my life, nephew. I'll troubleyou for the blackberry jam, my Porges."
"Yes, try the blackberry,--Aunt Priscilla made it her very own self."
"You know it's perfectly--ridiculous!" said Anthea, frowning andlaughing, both at the same time.
"What is, Miss Anthea?"
"Why that you should be sitting here calling Georgy your nephew, andthat I should be pouring out tea for you, quite as a matter of course."
"It seems to me the most delightfully natural thing in the world," saidBellew, in his slow, grave manner.
"But--I've only known you--half an hour--!"
"But then, friendships ripen quickly--in Arcadia."
"I wonder what Aunt Priscilla will have to say about it!"
"Aunt Priscilla?"
"She is our housekeeper,--the dearest, busiest, gentlest littlehousekeeper in all the world; but with--very sharp eyes, Mr. Bellew. Shewill either like you very much,--or--not at all! there are no halfmeasures about Aunt Priscilla."
"Now I wonder which it will be," said Bellew, helping himself to morejam.
"Oh, she'll like you, a course!" nodded Small Porges, "I know she'lllike you 'cause you're so different to Mr. Cassilis,--he's got blackhair, an' a mestache, you know, an' your hair's gold, like mine,--an'your mestache--isn't there, is it? An' I know she doesn't like Mr.Cassilis, an' I don't, either, 'cause--"
"She will be back to-morrow," said Anthea, silencing Small Porges with agentle touch of her hand, "and we shall be glad, sha'n't we, Georgy? Thehouse is not the same place without her. You see, I am off in the fieldsall day, as a rule; a farm,--even such a small one as Dapplemere, is agreat responsibility, and takes up all one's time--if it is to bemade to pay--"
"An' sometimes it doesn't pay at all, you know!" added Small Porges,"an' then Auntie Anthea worries, an' I worry too. Farming isn't what itwas in Adam's young days,--so that's why I must find a fortune--earlytomorrow morning, you know,--so my Auntie won't have to worryany more--"
Now when he had got thus far, Anthea leaned over, and, taking him bysurprise, kissed Small Porges suddenly.
"It was very good, and brave of you, dear," said she in her soft,thrilling voice, "to go out all alone into this big world to try andfind a fortune for me!" and here she would have kissed him again butthat he reminded her that they were not alone.
"But, Georgy dear,--fortunes are very hard to find,--especially roundDapplemere, I'm afraid!" said she, with a rueful little laugh.
"Yes, that's why I was going to Africa, you know."
"Africa!" she repeated, "Africa!"
"Oh yes," nodded Bellew, "when I met him he was on his way there tobring back gold for you--in a sack."
"Only Uncle Porges said it was a goodish way off, you know, so I 'cidedto stay an' find the fortune nearer home."
And thus they talked unaffectedly together until, tea being over, Antheavolunteered to show Bellew over her small domain, and they went out, allthree, into an evening that breathed of roses, and honeysuckle.
And, as they went, slow-footed through the deepening twilight, SmallPorges directed Bellew's attention to certain nooks and corners thatmight be well calculated to conceal the fortune they were to find; whileAnthea pointed out to him the beauties of shady wood, of rolling meadow,and winding stream.
But there were other beauties that neither of them thought to call tohis attention, but which Bellew noted with observing eyes, none theless:--such, for instance, as the way Anthea had of drooping her shadowylashes at sudden and unexpected moments; the wistful droop of her warm,red lips, and the sweet, round column of her throat. These, and muchbeside, Bellew noticed for himself as they walked on together throughthis midsummer evening.... And so, betimes, Bellew got him to bed, and,though the hour was ridiculously early, yet he fell into a profoundslumber, and dreamed of--nothing at all. But, far away upon the road,forgotten, and out of mind,--with futile writhing and grimaces, theHaunting Shadow of the Might Have Been jibbered in the shadows.
The Money Moon: A Romance Page 6