The Gambler Part 66

"George is a horrible egoist," she said cheerfully. "He thinks the only things in the world worthy of consideration are Tuffnell--and the Tuffnells."

Clodagh smiled as she took her seat.

"He is very much justified," she said softly. Then she glanced round the table. "But where's Lady Frances?"

Her hostess smiled.

"Breakfasting in bed. I knocked at her door at seven to ask whether she would care for a canter before breakfast, or whether she would like to walk over to the home farm with George, but she literally drove me away. She's out of sorts to-day. Poor Frances!"

"Oh, I am sorry!" Clodagh looked distressed. "Just to-day, when everybody's coming!"

George Tuffnell turned to her with his habitual bluff kindliness.

"Don't trouble, Mrs. Milbanke!" he said. "She'll be all right by the afternoon. It's the mornings that Society plays the deuce with. Look at Di! Look what a country life has done for her!"

Clodagh looked almost shyly at her hostess's straight shoulders and healthy, happy face.

"Don't make me more envious than I am!" she said gently. "Lady Diana has everything."

With a sympathetic gesture, Lady Diana extended her hand, and touched hers lightly.

"My dear," she said, "you have no reason to repine. And Tuffnell is to bring you enjoyment, not regret. What amus.e.m.e.nt can we plan for the morning, George?"

George Tuffnell looked up from the omelette to which he was helping himself.

"What would Mrs. Milbanke like? You may do anything you like here, Mrs.

Milbanke--except be unhappy."

Clodagh smiled brightly.

"Anything?"

"Anything--in wisdom."

She hesitated for a moment, looking down at her plate; then, with a quick, winning movement, she lifted her head, glancing from one of her entertainers to the other.

"Then give me a horse," she said quickly, "and let me ride by myself till lunch time."

Lady Diana looked distressed.

"What, alone?" she asked.

But her husband laughed cheerily.

"Why not--if she wishes? Tuffnell is Liberty Hall, Mrs. Milbanke. You shall have the best horse in the stables."

Lady Diana smiled indulgently.

"I hope we are doing right! Four hours by oneself in the saddle is rather a lonely thing."

"Oh, but I won't be alone!" Clodagh cried. "A good horse is the best company in the world."

At the conclusion of breakfast, she rose to go upstairs and change into her habit. As she pa.s.sed her hostess, she paused.

"Shall I run in and see Lady Frances?" she asked.

Lady Diana looked up at her.

"I think not. Frances called through the door this morning that no one was to go near her before twelve o'clock. I'd wait till then, if I were you."

And Clodagh nodded comprehendingly and left the room.

Half an hour later, she rode down a long avenue of chestnuts, mounted on a splendid bay horse of Lady Diana's, and emerged upon the road that skirted the park wall.

Tuffnell Place was situated in one of the richest corners of Buckinghams.h.i.+re; and as she drew rein for a moment outside the large gates and surveyed the surrounding country, it seemed to her that, as far as the eye could reach, the land stretched away in one great tract of prosperous, well-tilled fields and sweeping meadow-land, broken by high hedges and low wooded hills.

The day was one to revel in; the scene one to bring complete repose.

And as she gathered up her reins and allowed the bay horse to sweep down the gently sloping road into this land of plenty, she permitted the atmosphere to take full possession of her. For the moment, the thought of London, of her fellow-beings, even of herself, fell away from her conscious consideration; and she dreamed--as an Irishwoman can always dream--with her eyes open and her senses alert to her horse's slightest movement; yet wrapped in a world of her own, created from the warm blue haze of summer that lay over the rich country--from the summer sun that warmed her blood--from the close, instinctive comprehension of nature, that no artificiality has power to eradicate.

It was more than three hours later when she rode back to the gates of Tuffnell, having covered many miles of country, and revelled for a long delicious stretch of time in her own musings. The air and the hot sun had warmed her face to a splendid healthy colour, her lips were parted eagerly, and across her saddle she was carrying a spray of honeysuckle, plucked from the tall hedgerows. Her mood was generous, pliable, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with high impulses; if, in that moment, one loving hand had been stretched forth to hers--one honest soul come out of the sunlight to meet her own, many things might have been different. But the moment came--and the moment pa.s.sed.

Riding quickly up the avenue, she drew rein at the hall door; and at the same instant Lady Frances Hope crossed the wide sunny hall.

Clodagh saw her at once, and a shade of disappointment touched her face. Lady Frances was so intensely suggestive of the world she had been trying to forget. Her impulses of a minute ago shrank instinctively; the habit of indifference came back to her by suggestion. She suddenly felt ashamed of her sunburned face and of the spray of honeysuckle.

But Lady Frances came forward to the hall door, and at the same moment a groom hurried round from the stables.

Clodagh slipped easily from her horse; took her flowers from the saddle; and then turned to greet her friend.

"How are you?" she said. "I was so sorry not to have seen you this morning. I have had a glorious ride."

Lady Frances did not respond to the words with her habitual smile. And, on closer scrutiny, Clodagh observed that, despite a very careful toilet, she looked tired and annoyed.

"You've been away an age," she said irritably. "It's after twelve."

"Then perhaps I'd better change. The coach is to be back from the station at half-past twelve."

"No. Never mind! Diana isn't conventional. You can meet the people--and lunch too--in your habit. I want to talk to you."

Clodagh's eyes opened. It was new to find Lady Frances's manner either hasty or perturbed.

"To me? What about?"

The other hesitated for a moment, then looked straight at her companion.

"About Walter Gore."

The onslaught was so sudden that Clodagh had no time to guard her feelings. She flushed--a deep, painful flush, that spread over her cheeks, her ears, her forehead.