Capricious Caroline Part 41

Dennis was with the children. Mrs. Brenton had vanished.

Caroline walked to and fro slowly in the afternoon suns.h.i.+ne. She wore no hat, but her head was well protected from any chilly breeze by the splendid thickness of her hair.

A curious longing possessed her in this moment to follow Camilla, and urge her to come back to Yelverton. She could not quite understand the reason for this protracted separation.

"There seems to be something more, something new," she said to herself.

By that she meant that there was something more than that lack of sympathy with the man she had promised to marry that was actuating Mrs.

Lancing in all her movements now.

"What is the use of my being happy?" Caroline asked herself suddenly, "if I cannot a.s.sure happiness to others?--to these two in particular?"

And half impatiently she asked herself, "Why is she so obstinate? Why cannot she see that the longer she stands alone the farther she must be away from all that she needs? Surely she ought to trust him. I can't understand why she should doubt or hesitate for an instant."

The children came running up to her to show her their latest possessions, and then she had to greet Dennis, who seemed to be delighted to be where she was.

"It's a real joy to be here, miss," she said to Caroline; "but didn't I tell you what it was going to be when you first came? Just look at them two little angels! They ain't the same children; I declare they ain't."

"I'm sorry to hear you have not been very well, Dennis," Caroline remarked, as she collected the children and their toys and took them towards the house, for, as the sun began to drop, the air was cold.

"Me ill?" said Dennis, in surprise. "Why, there's nothing the matter with me! Who said I was ill?"

"Oh, I had a sort of idea you were not well," said Caroline. "Now, come along, chicks; we'll go upstairs and have a lovely game."

"And Dennis shall tell us a story," said Betty, to whom the last comer was always the most welcome.

Caroline walked behind the others laden with their treasures; and the stairs seemed long, and her limbs were strangely tired this day. There was, too, a curious ache when her heart beat.

The bath-time was over, and two little people were tucked up in bed when Mrs. Brenton beckoned Caroline out of the room.

"I hope you won't mind if we leave you this evening, but there is that concert and entertainment in the village. You said you did not care to go to it, but I think we must go. We always have supported the vicar, and he would never forgive if we did not turn up. Will you change your mind and come?"

Caroline shook her head.

"As a matter of fact, I have a good deal of work to do for Mr. Brenton.

I have not translated my last lesson. The children are so pleased to have Dennis that she is going to sit with them."

"You will dine at the same hour," said Mrs. Brenton, and with a smile she pa.s.sed on.

It was a significant fact she said nothing about Camilla.

Caroline went into her sitting-room, brought out pen and ink and foolscap, dictionaries and Latin grammar; but when she sat down to work, her usual pleasure and eagerness had flown.

She could hear Dennis whispering in the next room and one or the other child putting a pertinent remark in a very unsleepy voice; but she knew them well now. By the time she had changed her dress and had gone downstairs, both little voices would be hushed in sleep.

Camilla's few words to her just as they parted haunted her, but instead of that glow of satisfaction which would surely have come had they been spoken under other circ.u.mstances, they brought a renewed touch of heartache.

After a while she put away her books and writing.

"a.s.suredly," she said to herself, "love goes hand-in-hand with sorrow.

When I had no one to love, nothing to care for, n.o.body to make me anxious, I never had tears in my eyes as I have them now. If only tears would do some good! But how _can_ I help her? what can I do? I have the sort of feeling that I ought to do something, but what--what?"

She was still standing by the window, looking at the beautiful evening sky, when a maid came into the room softly.

"If you please, miss," she said, "would you come downstairs and see Mr.

Haverford? He says he would like to speak to you."

Caroline whipped round from the window.

"Mr. Haverford! He was not expected, and both Mr. and Mrs. Brenton are out."

"Yes, miss, I told him so; but he said he wanted to see you. He hasn't got any luggage; I don't think he means to stay. He's come in his motor, miss."

Caroline paused only an instant. Her brows had met with a frown--a sign that she was moved and nervous.

"Please say I will be down directly."

She went towards her bedroom with the intention of changing her dress, and then she checked herself.

Stealing into the children's room, she whispered to Dennis that she was going downstairs. The maid nodded her head; the children were quite quiet, and Dennis herself looked half asleep.

As she went slowly down the broad staircase Caroline saw him. He was standing in front of the fire in the hall warming his hands.

"Both Mr. and Mrs. Brenton are out--a rare occurrence," she said; "but it is a village festival...."

She gave him her hand, and as he took it she coloured very faintly.

"Yes, so I hear. I am rather glad to see you alone." His tone was terse. As Caroline moved forward to the fire he said, "I have come down to ask for news of Camilla. Can you give me any?"

The girl looked at him for an instant.

"She was here to-day," she said.

"Here?... What time?"

"She came in the morning. I understand she had travelled straight through from Devons.h.i.+re, only changing stations in town."

He caught his breath in a way that was very like a sigh, and sat down, half shutting his eyes.

"Then she wished to avoid me," he said. "Where has she gone?"

When Caroline told him, he just nodded his head and said--

"Yes...." He paused a moment, and then he said, "I am very troubled about her, Caroline." Indeed, his voice sounded very heavy with trouble.

Caroline waited for him to go on.

"She seems to be slipping out of my hands," said Haverford; "try as I will, I cannot satisfy her, or keep pace with her. I a.s.sure you these last few weeks I have been like a creature on wires. I have not known from one moment to the next what she wished me to do. Perhaps I am too exacting. I don't know. I only know that I am wretched, that I cannot sleep for thinking about her; thinking, not in a selfish fas.h.i.+on, ... I give you my word it is not that, but troubling about her...." He sat forward, and stared into the fire. "The last time we were together we quarrelled rather badly," he said then.

Still Caroline said nothing.