David Gray

“ Carteret, “I am going to be much more so.”
Barclay looked challengingly. “What do you mean?” he demanded.
“Lady Withers,” said Mr. Carteret, “is a widow, aged forty-four,—you can verify that in Burke,—a man-eater by temperament and habit. You are twelve years younger than she, with a great deal more money than is good for you. Whether she intends to marry you I don’t pretend to know, but it is not unlikely. At any rate, you are unquestionably on the list as a source of income and supply.”
Somewhat to Mr. Carteret’s surprise, Barclay listened calmly. ”

“ After his decade of meditation he could regard the hurryings of men, the catching of trains, and the yoke of small [Pg 187] annoyances to which society bends its neck, as one inside watches the buzzing of unclean flies against the pane without.
He opened a book of verses by a Japanese poet and gazed across the little, many-islanded lake, whose surface was a sisterhood of silver pools, each framed in the new green of the young lotus pads. The bamboos on the opposite bank glistened faintly as the intermittent touch of an unfelt, unsuspected breeze stroked their plumes. ”

“ But as he sat down, he felt the touch of a cold nose on his hand and one little lick. He glanced down, and looked into the sad, wistful eyes of the wire-haired fox terrier. With this, Penwiper dropped gravely upon the floor, gazing up adoring and mournful, yet content. Mr. Carteret was used to this idolatry, as he was used to the patter of the following footsteps, but on this occasion it provoked speculation. It occurred to him to wonder how in a [Pg 89] just universe a devotion like Penwiper’s would be repaid. Then he wondered if, after all, it was a just universe. ”

“ Major Hammerslea looked at him severely, as if his youth were not wholly an excuse. “It is, as I said,” he observed. “It is one thing to ride an American pony and another to ride a British hunter. One requires horsemanship, the other does not. And horsemanship,” he continued, “which properly is the guiding of a horse across country, requires years of study and experience.”
Lord Frederic looked somewhat unconvinced but he said nothing.
“Of course the dear Major (she called it deah Majaw) is unquestionably right,” said Mrs. Ascott-Smith.
“Undoubtedly,” said Mr. Carteret. ”

“ Nature had made Caswell short, swarthy, high cheek-boned, with dark hair and narrow dark eyes, and for ten years he had been sitting at the feet of the Priest of Lake Biwa, dressing as the Japanese dress, leading their life, and thinking as far as an Occidental may their thought. ”

“ There was something in his tone, in the look in his eyes, which made Evanston’s protest melt away, then transfixed him, then made him whiten and tremble.
Presently they heard the rustle of a woman’s dress in the hallway. “Do you understand?” said Mr. Carteret, quickly. “You must ask her. You must force it out of her. If she refuses to tell you, you must choke it out of her. The ghosts have come back!” Then he hurriedly crossed the room to the French window that opened upon the terrace. As he reached the window, Edith stood in the doorway. ”

“ Carteret after a pause.
“What is there to do?” answered Barclay. “Nothing but wait.”
“My boy,” said the older man, “I’m not surprised that you’re in love with Mary Granvil; I am myself, and, what’s more, I’m not going to have her thrown away on a bounder like Tappingwell-Sikes. If you don’t propose to her, I shall. I’ll keep my hands off for three weeks, and then look out.”
Barclay smiled. “You don’t frighten me very much,” he said.
“But I’m in earnest,” said Mr. Carteret. “It’s time for me to get married. ”

“ Carteret, “but my opinion is that no man would have ridden that horse when hounds were running unless he wanted to marry either the woman who owned it or the woman who was riding it.”
“Well?” said Barclay.
“Well,” said Mr. Carteret, “is it Lady Withers?”
“No,” said Barclay decisively; “it isn’t Lady Withers.”
Mr. Carteret looked at his young friend with outward indifference. Inwardly he was experiencing much relief. “When are you going to announce your engagement?” he asked.
Barclay shook his head grimly. “I wish I knew,” he said. “I’m up against it, I fancy.” ”

“ Ascott-Smith’s, who had Chilliecote Abbey, and when he got home that afternoon he went at once to the great library, where the ceremony of tea was celebrated. The daylight was fading from the mullioned windows as it had faded on winter afternoons for three hundred years. Candles burned on the vacant card-tables, while the occupants of the room gathered in the glow of the great Elizabethan fireplace and conversed and ate. As he approached the circle, Lady Withers put down her tea cup.
“Did you have another run after we pulled out?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Mr. Carteret; “rather a good one.” ”

“ There was the treasure of her brown hair, with the gold light in it, tumbled in heaps about her head; there was the face that had been for him the loveliness of early morning in gardens, that had haunted him in the summer perfume of clover-fields and in the fragrance of night-wrapped lawns. There was the slim, rounded figure that once had brought the blood into his face as it brushed against him. There were the hands whose touch was so smooth and cool and strong. ”

“ He turned and started toward the end of the long hall, searching for a bell that he might summon a servant. Presently it occurred to him that he had no idea of the doctor’s name, and that there might be several doctors. He stopped, turned, and came back noiselessly upon the heavy rug and all but invisible in the dusk of the unlighted hallway. Suddenly he stopped. The girl had been watching Barclay as he went up the stairs. As he passed out of sight, she turned and dropped into a chair with a little sigh, like one who has been under a strain. ”

“ There is an American buggy in the stable, and an American trotting horse that drives with one hand. Verb sap.”
“But it isn’t done in England,” said Barclay.
“Buggy-riding,” said Mr. Carteret, “or its equivalent, is done wherever there is a man of spirit and a young lady with intuitions. The trouble with you,” he went on, “is that you are too modest on the one hand and too self-important on the other. If you are not good enough for the girl, you needn’t fear that Lady Withers will give you the preference over Sikes. ”

“ Mr. Carteret, “is that Granvil is too good a man to waste on such an occupation. The horse business is very confining. It’s an awful bore to be tied down.”
“You are absolutely right about that,” said the Hon. Cecil, with a burst of frankness. “You don’t know what a relief it is to be out of the Guards. Awfully confining life, the Guards.”
“I think,” said Lady Withers, apparently oblivious to the views of her nephew, “that Mr. Barclay takes rather the more businesslike view of these matters. It is he, I fancy, who looks after the affairs of your estates ”

“ He groped his way across the terrace, and from the terrace went on to the lawn. Overhead the stars looked down and studded the lake with innumerable lights. The night insects were singing. The fireflies glimmered in the shrubbery. The perfume from the syringa thicket was heavy on the still air. Ordinarily these [Pg 149] things did not appeal strongly to Mr. Carteret; but to-night they thrilled him. A few steps across the grass and he stopped and looked back. The house was silent. From the library windows the lamplight streamed out upon the terrace lawn. ”

“ Here is a young man with a bad arm and something extremely important on his mind that is for your ear alone, and he’ll unquestionably get killed if he goes near enough that horse to tell you about it. Be a good girl,” he added in a whisper, “and be kind to him. Perhaps he’s worth it.” A quick flush came into the girl’s face. And Mr. Carteret, without glancing back, hurried out of the paddock.
Just outside the gate he ran into Lady Withers, the Major, and Mr. Tappingwell-Sikes, who had just arrived. They had been following as fast as they could. ”

“ Cutting watched them stewing and fidgeting with an unlovely satisfaction. It was unusual for such persons to wait for anybody.
He discovered that by walking briskly toward the door he could make them start and eye one another suspiciously, like men in a barber-shop at the call of “Next!” When this entertainment palled, he played with his hat. Still the great man did not come, and presently Cutting took a tour of inspection about the room. As he reached the lawyer’s desk, a golf-club caught his eye, and he stopped. It was a strangely weighted, mammoth mashie. ”

“ But as the hounds viewed the fox so did the three sons of the wilderness who were following close behind. From the hilltop fifty of the hardest going men in England saw Hole-in-the-Ground flogging his horse with the heavy quirt which hung from his wrist. ”

“ Carteret that, although Lord Ploversdale’s power of expression was wonderful for England, it nevertheless fell short of Arizona standards. Then, however, he noticed that Grady was absorbed in adjusting a kodak camera, with which he was evidently about to take a picture of the Indians alone with the hounds. He drew back in order both to avoid being in the field of the picture and to avoid too close proximity with Lord Ploversdale as he came over the fence into the road.
“What do you mean, sir!” shouted the enraged Master of Fox-hounds, as he pulled up his horse. ”

“ Carteret, steadily, “that Barclay is not the business manager of our ranches. He is not a business man at all. It is true that he still retains a certain interest in the ranch properties but he has been so unbusinesslike that everything he’s got is in the hands of a trustee. He gets his income monthly, like a remittance-man. He is not in actual want; but—”
“I see,” said Lady Withers, coldly. “I [Pg 53] had misunderstood the situation.” She turned and crossed to one of the card-tables and sat down.
After she had gone, Mr. Carteret lighted a cigarette and went out. ”

“ Mr. Carteret hesitated a moment; he feared to trust his voice. Then he gathered himself and bowed to Mrs. Ascott-Smith. “I have people coming to tea; I must be off. Good night.” His impulse was to pass the girl with the formality of a bow, but he checked it. ”

“ The dear child is so young that she may not know her own mind.”
“I think she does by this time,” he replied. The gate opened, and Barclay and Mary Granvil stood in the gateway. “I’m rather sure of it,” he added. “You can see for yourself.”
“But—” said Lady Withers, looking accusingly at Mr. Carteret. She was fairly dumfounded.
“It was I that proposed,” said Mr. Carteret, “but the beneficiary is apparently Barclay.”
“It is,” said Barclay.
All Lady Withers could do was to gasp hysterically, “How very American!”
“Not at all,” said Mr. Carteret. ”

“ Hole-in-the-Ground had caught the fox!
“Most unprecedented!” Mr. Carteret heard the Major exclaim. He pulled up his horse, as the field did theirs, and waited apprehensively. He saw Hole-in-the-Ground circle around, jerk the Major’s five hundred guinea hunter to a standstill close to Lord Ploversdale and address him. He was speaking in his own language.
As the Chief went on, he saw Grady smile.
“He says,” said Grady translating, “that the white chief can eat the fox if he wants him. He’s proud himself bein’ packed with store grub.”
The English onlookers heard and beheld with blank faces. ”

“ Carteret poured a quantity of it from the bottle and threw it out of the window, resolving to be on the safe side. Then he looked at his boots and his pink coat and white leathers, which were laid out upon the bed. “I don’t think there can be any danger,” he thought, “if I turn up after they have started. I loathe stopping in all day.” He dressed leisurely, ordered his second horse to be sent on, and some time after the rest of the household had gone to the meet he sallied forth. ”

“ Carteret.
Barclay paused awkwardly for a moment, then he said: “Why shouldn’t I talk it over with Lady Withers? She is a very intelligent woman, and a good judge of a horse.”
“An excellent judge of almost everything,” said his friend, “and especially of young men. My son,” he continued (Barclay was five years his junior) , “it is commendable of Lady Withers to provide for the Hon. Cecil James Montague Granvil. He is her nephew and flat broke, and he needs people to look after him because he is almost less than half-witted. But that is no reason why you should be the person to look after him.” ”

“ I don’t see why the people of America should pay for educating Buddhist priests.”
“Neither do the Japanese,” replied the young man, “only they accept what they regard as our eccentricities without raising questions.”
“The young man seems to be intelligent,” thought Caswell.
The aunt made no reply, but stood meditating for a few moments. Then she opened the guide-book, in which she had her finger at the place.
“In the second story, there are paintings by Kano Masanobi. At the top is the golden pavilion. We can give it half an hour. Take off your shoes,” she added; “we mustn’t waste time.” ”

“ These young ladies were known as the Three Guardsmen, a sobriquet not wholly inappropriate; for, as Lord Frederic described them, they were “big-boned, upstanding fillies,” between twenty-five and thirty and very hard goers across any country, and always together.
“Good morning,” said Mr. Carteret, bowing. “I suppose the hounds are close by?” It was a natural assumption, as Lady Violet on hunting days was never very far from the hounds. ”