The Tragic Muse Part 34

"We can go and stay with _them_," said Julia.

"They'll think I bring them an angel." And Nick covered her white hand, which was resting on the stile, with his own large one.

"As they regard you yourself as an angel they'll take it as natural of you to a.s.sociate with your kind."

"Oh _my_ kind!" he quite wailed, looking at the cows.

But his very extravagance perhaps saved it, and she turned away from him as if starting homeward, while he began to retrace his steps with her.

Suddenly she said: "What did you mean that night in Paris?"

"That night----?"

"When you came to the hotel with me after we had all dined at that place with Peter."

"What did I mean----?"

"About your caring so much for the fine arts. You seemed to want to frighten me."

"Why should you have been frightened? I can't imagine what I had in my head: not now."

"You _are_ vague," said Julia with a little flush.

"Not about the great thing."

"The great thing?"

"That I owe you everything an honest man has to offer. How can I care about the fine arts now?"

She stopped with lighted eyes on him. "Is it because you think you _owe_ it--" and she paused, still with the heightened colour in her cheek, then went on--"that you've spoken to me as you did there?" She tossed her head toward the lake.

"I think I spoke to you because I couldn't help it."

"You _are_ vague!" And she walked on again.

"You affect me differently from any other woman."

"Oh other women----! Why shouldn't you care about the fine arts now?"

she added.

"There'll be no time. All my days and my years will be none too much for what you expect of me."

"I don't expect you to give up anything. I only expect you to do more."

"To do more I must do less. I've no talent."

"No talent?"

"I mean for painting."

Julia pulled up again. "That's odious! You _have_--you must."

He burst out laughing. "You're altogether delightful. But how little you know about it--about the honourable practice of any art!"

"What do you call practice? You'll have all our things--you'll live in the midst of them."

"Certainly I shall enjoy looking at them, being so near them."

"Don't say I've taken you away then."

"Taken me away----?"

"From the love of art. I like them myself now, poor George's treasures.

I didn't of old so much, because it seemed to me he made too much of them--he was always talking."

"Well, I won't always talk," said Nick.

"You may do as you like--they're yours."

"Give them to the nation," Nick went on.

"I like that! When we've done with them."

"We shall have done with them when your Vand.y.k.es and Moronis have cured me of the delusion that I may be of _their_ family. Surely that won't take long."

"You shall paint _me_," said Julia.

"Never, never, never!" He spoke in a tone that made his companion stare--then seemed slightly embarra.s.sed at this result of his emphasis.

To relieve himself he said, as they had come back to the place beside the lake where the boat was moored, "Shan't we really go and fetch Mr.

Hoppus?"

She hesitated. "You may go; I won't, please."

"That's not what I want."

"Oblige me by going. I'll wait here." With which she sat down on the bench attached to the little landing.

Nick, at this, got into the boat and put off; he smiled at her as she sat there watching him. He made his short journey, disembarked and went into the pavilion; but when he came out with the object of his errand he saw she had quitted her station, had returned to the house without him.

He rowed back quickly, sprang ash.o.r.e and followed her with long steps.

Apparently she had gone fast; she had almost reached the door when he overtook her.

"Why did you basely desert me?" he asked, tenderly stopping her there.

"I don't know. Because I'm so happy."

"May I tell mother then?"

"You may tell her she shall have Broadwood."