The Bars of Iron Part 25

"Tired!" said Piers with gloomy vehemence. "Yes, I am tired--sick to death of everything. I'm like a dog on a chain. I can see what I want, but it's always just out of my reach."

Jeanie's hand came up and softly stroked his face. "I wish I could get it for you," she said.

"Bless you, sweetheart!" said Piers. "You don't so much as know what it is, do you?"

"Yes, I do," said Jeanie. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, looking up into his face with all her child's soul s.h.i.+ning in her eyes.

"It's--Aunt Avery; isn't it?"

"How did you know?" said Piers.

"I don't know," said Jeanie. "It just--came to me--that day in the schoolroom when you talked about the ticket of leave. You were unhappy that day, weren't you?"

"Yes," said Piers. He added after a moment, "You see, I'm not good enough for her."

"Not good enough!" Jeanie's face became incredulous and a little distressed. "I'm sure--she--doesn't think that," she said.

"She doesn't know me properly," said Piers. "Nor do you. If you did, you'd be shocked,--you'd be horrified."

He spoke recklessly, almost defiantly; but Jeanie only stretched up a thin arm and wound it about his neck. "Never!" she told him softly.

"No, never!"

He held her to him; but he would not be silenced. "I a.s.sure you, I'm no saint," he said. "I feel more like a devil sometimes. I've done bad things, Jeanie, I can't tell you how bad. It would only hurt you."

The words ran out impulsively. His breathing came quick and short; his hold was tense. In that moment the child's pure spirit recognized that the image had crumbled in her shrine, but the brave heart of her did not flinch. Very tenderly she veiled the ruin. The element of wors.h.i.+p had vanished in that single instant of revelation; but her love remained, and it shone out to him like a beacon as he knelt there in abas.e.m.e.nt by her side.

"But you're sorry," she whispered. "You would undo the bad things if you could."

"G.o.d knows I would!" he said.

"Perhaps He will undo them for you," she murmured softly. "Have you asked Him?"

"There are some things that can't be undone," groaned Piers. "It would be too big a job even for Him."

"Nothing is that," said Jeanie with conviction. "If we are sorry and if we pray, some day He will undo all the bad we've ever done."

"I haven't prayed for six years," said Piers. "Things went wrong with me.

I felt as if I were under a curse. And I gave it up."

"Oh, Piers!" she said, holding him closer. "How miserable you must have been!"

"I've been in h.e.l.l!" he said with bitter vehemence. "And the gates tight shut! Not that I was ever very great in the spiritual lines," he added more calmly. "But I used to think G.o.d took a friendly interest in my affairs till--till I went down into h.e.l.l and the gates shut on me; and then--" he spoke grimly--"I knew He didn't care a rap."

"But, dear, He does care!" said Jeanie very earnestly.

"He doesn't!" said Piers moodily. "He can't!"

"Piers, He does!" She raised her head and looked him straight in the eyes. "Everyone feels like that sometimes," she said. "But Aunt Avery says it's only because we are too little to understand. Won't you begin and pray again? It does make a difference even though we can't see it."

"I can't," said Piers. And then with swift compunction he kissed her face of disappointment. "Never mind, my queen! Don't you bother your little head about me! I shall rub along all right even if I don't come out on top."

"But I want you to be happy," said Jeanie. "I wish I could help you, Piers,--dear Piers."

"You do help me," said Piers.

There came the sound of voices on the stairs, and he got up.

Jeanie looked up at him wistfully. "I shall try," she said. "I shall try--hard."

He patted her head and turned away.

Mr. Lorimer and Miss Whalley entered the room. The former raised his brows momentarily at the sight of Piers, but he greeted him with much geniality.

"I am quite delighted to welcome you to the children's Christmas party,"

he declared, with Piers' hand held impressively in his. "And how is your grandfather, my dear lad?"

Piers contracted instinctively. "He is quite well, thanks," he said. "I haven't come to stay. I only looked in for a moment."

He glanced towards Miss Whalley whom he had never met before. The Vicar smilingly introduced him. "This is the Squire's grandson and heir, Miss Whalley. Doubtless you know him by sight as well as by repute--the keenest sportsman in the county, eh, my young friend?" His eyes disappeared with the words as if pulled inwards by a string.

"I don't know," said Piers, becoming extremely blunt and British. "I'm certainly keen, but so are dozens of others." He bowed to Miss Whalley with stiff courtesy. "Pleased to meet you," he said formally.

Miss Whalley acknowledged the compliment with a severe air of incredulity. She had never approved of Piers since a certain Sunday morning ten years before when she had caught him shooting at the choir-boys with a catapult, during the litany, over the top of the squire's large square pew.

She had reported the crime to the Vicar, and the Vicar had lodged a formal complaint with Sir Beverley, who had soundly caned the delinquent in his presence, and given him half a sovereign as soon as the clerical back had been turned for taking the punishment like a man.

But in Miss Whalley's eyes Piers had from that moment ceased to be regarded as one of the elect, and his curt reception of the good Vicar's patronage did not further elevate him in her esteem. She made as brief a response to the introduction as politeness demanded, and crossed the room to Jeanie.

"I must be off," said Piers. "I've stayed longer than I intended already."

"Pray do not hurry!" urged Mr. Lorimer. "The festivities are but just beginning."

But Piers was insistent, and even Jeanie's wistful eyes could not detain him. He waved her a careless farewell, and extricated himself as quickly as possible from surroundings that had become uncongenial.

Descending the stairs somewhat precipitately, he nearly ran into Avery ascending with a troop of children, and stopped to say good-bye.

"You're not going!" cried Gracie, with keen disappointment.

"Yes, I am. I can't stop. It's later than I thought. See you to-morrow!"

said Piers.

He held Avery's hand again in his, and for one fleeting second his eyes looked into hers. Then lightly he pressed her fingers and pa.s.sed on without further words.

On the first landing he encountered Mrs. Lorimer. She smiled upon him kindly. "Oh, Piers, is it you?" she said. "Have you been having tea in the schoolroom?"

He admitted that he had.

"And must you really go?" she said. "I'm sorry for that. Come again, won't you?"

Her tone was full of gentle friendliness, and Piers was touched. "It's awfully good of you to ask me," he said.