"Not she," said Archie. "It would never have done."
"I know," agreed d.i.c.k warmly. (It was a real pleasure to him that head and heart went together in this matter.) "But sometimes, you know, women regret that sort of thing. Wish they hadn"t been quite so sensible, you know."
"Jenny doesn"t," said Archie.
d.i.c.k took up his gla.s.s which he had filled with his third whisky-and-soda, hardly five minutes before, and drank half of it. He sucked his mustache, and in that instant confidentialism rose in his heart.
"Well, I"m going to have a shot myself," he said.
"What?"
"I"m going to have a shot. She can but say "No.""
Archie"s extreme repose of manner vanished for a second. His jaw dropped a little.
"But, good Lord! I hadn"t the faintest--"
"I know you hadn"t. But I"ve had it for a long time.... What d"you think, Archie?"
"My good chap--"
"Yes, I know; leave all that out. We"ll take that as read. What comes next?"
Archie looked at him a moment.
"How d"you mean? Do you mean, do I approve?"
"Well, I didn"t mean that," admitted d.i.c.k. "I meant, how"d I better set about it?"
Archie"s face froze ever so slightly. (It will be remembered that Jack Kirkby considered him pompous.)
"You must do it your own way," he said.
"Sorry, old man," said d.i.c.k. "Didn"t mean to be rude."
Archie straightened himself from the chair-back.
"It"s all rather surprising," he said. "It never entered my head. I must think about it. Good-night. Put the lights out when you come."
"Archie, old man, are you annoyed?"
"No, no; that"s all right," said Archie.
And really and truly that was all that pa.s.sed between these two that night on the subject of Jenny--so reposeful were they.
(II)
There was a glorious breeze blowing over the hills as Jenny rode slowly up about noon next day. The country is a curious mixture--miles of moor, as desolate and simple and beautiful as moors can be, and by glimpses, now and then in the valleys between, of entirely civilized villages, with even a town or two here and there, p.r.i.c.k-up spires and roofs; and, even more ominous, in this direction and that, lie patches of smoke about the great chimneys.
Jenny was meditative as she rode up alone. It is very difficult to be otherwise when one has pa.s.sed through one considerable crisis, and foresees a number of others that must be met, especially if one has not made up one"s mind as to the proper line of action. It is all very well to be sensible, but a difficulty occasionally arises as to which of two or three courses is the more in accordance with that character. To be impulsive certainly leads to trouble sometimes, but also, sometimes it saves it.
Jenny looked charming in repose. She was in a delightful green habit; she wore a plumy kind of hat; she rode an almost perfect little mare belonging to Lord Talgarth, and her big blue, steady eyes roved slowly round her as she went, seeing nothing. It was, in fact, the almost perfect little mare who first gave warning of the approach to the sportsmen, by starting violently all over at the sound of a shot, fired about half a mile away. Jenny steadied her, pulled her up, and watched between the c.o.c.ked and twitching ears.
Below her, converging slowly upwards, away from herself, moved a line of dots, each precisely like its neighbor in color (Lord Talgarth was very particular, indeed, about the uniform of his beaters), and by each moved a red spot, which Jenny understood to be a flag. The point towards which they were directed culminated in a low, rounded hill, and beneath the crown of this, in a half circle, were visible a series of low defenses, like fortifications, to command the face of the slope and the dips on either side. This was always the last beat--in this moor--before lunch; and lunch itself, she knew, would be waiting on the other side of the hill. Occasionally as she watched, she saw a slight movement behind this or that b.u.t.t--no more--and the only evidence of human beings, beside the beaters, lay in the faint wreath of all but invisible smoke that followed the reports, coming now quicker and quicker, as the grouse took alarm. Once with a noise like a badly ignited rocket, there burst over the curve before her a flying brown thing, that, screaming with terrified exultation, whirred within twenty yards of her head and vanished into silence. (One c.o.c.ked ear of the mare bent back to see if the rocket were returning or not.)
Jenny"s meditations became more philosophical than ever as she looked.
She found herself wondering how much free choice the grouse--if they were capable themselves of philosophizing--would imagine themselves to possess in the face of this noisy but insidious death. She reminded herself that every shred of instinct and experience that each furious little head contained bade the owner of it to fly as fast and straight as possible, in squawking company with as many friends as possible, away from those horrible personages in green and silver with the agitating red flags, and up that quiet slope which, at the worst, only emitted sudden noises. A reflective grouse would perhaps (and two out of three did) consider that he could fly faster and be sooner hidden from the green men with red flags, if he slid crosswise down the valleys on either side. But--Jenny observed--that was already calculated by these human enemies, and b.u.t.ts (like angels" swords) commanded even these approaches too.
It was obvious, then, that however great might be the illusion of free choice, in reality there was none: they were betrayed hopelessly by the very instincts intended to safeguard them; practical common-sense, in this case, at least, led them straight into the jaws of death. A little originality and impulsiveness would render them immortal so far as guns were concerned....
Yes; but there was one who had been original, who had actually preferred to fly straight past a monster in green on a gray mare rather than to face the peaceful but deathly slopes; and he had escaped. But obviously he was an exception. Originality in grouse--
At this point the mare breathed slowly and contemptuously and advanced a delicate, impatient foot, having quite satisfied herself that danger was no longer imminent; and Jenny became aware she was thinking nonsense.
There were a number of unimportant but well-dressed persons at lunch, with most of whom Jenny was acquainted. These extended themselves on the ground and said the right things one after another; and all began with long drinks, and all ended with heavy meals. There were two other women whom she knew slightly, who had driven up half an hour before.
Everything was quite perfect--down even to hot grilled grouse that emerged from emblazoned silver boxes, and hot black coffee poured from "Thermos" flasks. Jenny asked intelligent questions and made herself agreeable.
At the close of lunch she found herself somehow sitting on a small rock beside d.i.c.k. Lord Talgarth was twenty yards away, his gaitered legs very wide apart, surveying the country and talking to the keeper. Her father was looking down the barrels of his rather ineffective gun, and Archie, with three or four other men and two women, a wife and a sister, was smoking with his back against a rock.
"Shall you be in to-morrow?" asked d.i.c.k casually.
Jenny paused an instant.
"I should think so!" she said. "I"ve got one or two things to do."
"Perhaps I may look in? I want to talk to you about something if I may."
"Shan"t you be shooting again?"
"No; I"m not very fit and shall take a rest."
Jenny was silent.
"About what time?" pursued d.i.c.k.
Jenny roused herself with a little start. She had been staring out over the hills and wondering if that was the church above Barham that she could almost see against the horizon.
"Oh! any time up to lunch," she said vaguely.
d.i.c.k stood up slowly with a satisfied air and stretched himself. He looked very complete and trim, thought Jenny, from his flat cap to his beautifully-spatted shooting-boots. (It was twelve hundred a year, at least, wasn"t it?)
"Well, I suppose we shall be moving directly," he said.