"I don"t know how to play," said Dulcie. "I don"t know how to do anything."
"You soon will, if you get up, you sweet little lazy-bones!"
"Do you think I"ll ever learn to play tennis and golf and to ride?"
inquired Dulcie. "You know how to do everything so well, Thessa."
"Dear child, it"s all locked up in you--the ability to do everything--be anything! The only difference between us is that I had the chance to try."
"But I can"t even stand on my head," said Dulcie wistfully.
"Did you ever try?"
"N-no."
"It"s easy. Do you want to see me do it?"
"Oh, please, Thessa!"
So Thessalie, calmly smiling, rose, cast herself lightly upon her hands, straightened her lithe figure leisurely, until, amid a cataract of tumbling silk and chiffon, her rose silk slippers pointed toward the ceiling. Then, always with graceful deliberation, she brought her feet to the floor, forming an arc with her body; held it a moment, and slowly rose upright, her flushed face half-buried in her loosened hair.
Dulcie, in raptures, climbed out of bed and insisted on immediate instruction. Down on the tennis court, Garry and Westmore heard their peals of laughter and came across the lawn under the window to remonstrate.
"Aren"t you ever going to get dressed!" called up Westmore. "If you"re going to play doubles with us you"d better get busy, because it"s going to be a hot day!"
So Thessalie went away to dress and Dulcie tiptoed into her bath, which the maid had already drawn.
But it was an hour before they appeared on the lawn, cool and fresh in their white skirts and shoes, and found Westmore and Barres, red and drenched, hammering each other across the net in their second furious set.
So Dulcie took her first lesson under Garry"s auspices; and she took to it naturally, her instinct being sound, but her technique as charmingly awkward as a young bird"s in its first essay at flying.
To see her all in white, with sleeves tucked up, throat bare, and the sun brilliant on her ruddy, rippling hair, produced a curious impression on Barres. As far as the East is from the West, so far was this Dulcie of the tennis court separated from the wistful, shabby child behind the desk at Dragon Court.
Could they possibly be the same--this lithe, fresh, laughing girl, with white feet flashing and snowy skirts awhirl?--and the pale, grey-eyed slip of a thing that had come one day to his threshold with a faltering request for admittance to that wonderland wherein dwelt only such as he?
Now, those grey eyes had turned violet, tinged with the beauty of the open sky; the loosened hair had become a net entangling the very sunlight; and the frail body, now but one smooth, soft symmetry, seemed fairly l.u.s.trous with the shining soul it masked within it.
She came over to the net, breathless, laughing, to shake hands with her victorious opponents.
"I"m so sorry, Garry," she said, turning penitently to him, "but I need such a lot of help in the world before I"m worth anything to anybody."
"You"re all right as you are. You always have been all right," he said in a low voice. "You never were worth less than you are worth now; you"ll never be worth more than you are worth to me at this moment."
They were walking slowly across the lawn toward the northern veranda.
She halted a moment on the gra.s.s and cast a questioning glance at him:
"Doesn"t it please you to have me learn things?"
"You always please me."
"I"m so glad.... I try.... But don"t you think you"d like me better if I were not so ignorant?"
He looked at her absently, shook his head:
"No ... I couldn"t like you better.... I couldn"t care more--for any girl--than I care for you.... Did you suspect that, Dulcie?"
"No."
"Well, it"s true."
They moved slowly forward across the gra.s.s--he distrait, his handsome head lowered, swinging his tennis-bat as he walked; she very still and lithe and slender, moving beside him with lowered eyes fixed on their mingled shadows on the gra.s.s.
"When are you to see Mr. Skeel?" he asked abruptly.
"This afternoon.... He asked if he might hope to find me alone.... I didn"t know exactly what to say. So I told him about the rose arbour.... He said he would pay his respects to your mother and sister and then ask their permission to see me there alone."
They came to the veranda; Dulcie seated herself on the steps and he remained standing on the gra.s.s in front of her.
"Remember," he said quietly, "that I can never care less for you than I do at this moment.... Don"t forget what I say, Dulcie."
She looked up at him, happy, wondering, even perhaps a little apprehensive in her uncertainty as to his meaning.
He did not seem to care to enlighten her further. His mood changed, too, even as she looked at him, and she saw the troubled gravity fade and the old gaiety glimmering in his eyes:
"I"ve a mind to put you on a horse, Sweetness, and see what happens,"
he remarked.
"Oh, Garry! I don"t want to tumble off before _you_!"
"Before whom had you rather land on that red head of yours?" he inquired. "I"d be more sympathetic than many."
"I"d rather have Thessa watch me break my neck. Do you mind? It"s horrid to be so sensitive, I suppose. But, Garry, I couldn"t bear to have you see me so shamefully awkward and demoralised."
"Fancy your being awkward! Well, all right----"
He looked across the lawn, where Thessalie and Westmore sat together, just outside the tennis court, under a brilliant lawn umbrella.
Oddly enough, the spectacle caused him no subtle pang, although their heads were pretty close together and their mutual absorption in whatever they were saying appeared evident enough.
"Let "em chatter," he said after an instant"s hesitation. "Thessa or my sister can ride with you this afternoon when it"s cooler. I suppose you"ll take to the saddle as though born there."
"Oh, I hope so!"
"Sure thing. All Irish girls--of your quality--take to it."
"My--quality?"
"Yours.... It"s merely happened so," he added irrelevantly, "--but the contrary couldn"t have mattered ... as long as you are _you_! Nothing else matters one way or another. You _are_ you: that answers all questions, fulfils all requirements----"