The Arbiter: A Novel

by Lady Florence Eveleen Eleanore Olliffe Bell

  CHAPTER XXI

  The echoes of the band which was enlivening the promenade we have justleft penetrated to the pavilion where Rachel and her husband weresitting alone. A little path ran from the back of the pavilion straightup into the woods. At certain hours, when the fashionable world met todrink the waters, to listen to the band, or to talk at the Casino, thewoodland path was almost deserted. At no time was it very crowded, as itwas a short and rather steep short cut to a walk through the wood whichcould be reached by a more convenient access from the principal streetin the town.

  Rendel, although it had not occurred to him to look at a Visitors' List,and although he did not realise yet how many people he knew were atSchleppenheim, still had a strange, unpleasant feeling, horribly new tohim, of shrinking from meeting any one he had ever seen before. He hadseen the woodland path, and was wondering if he should go and explore itat this hour when presumably every one was listening to the band, ofwhich the incessant strains heard in the distance were beginning to bemaddening. As he looked up vaguely, the little door into the gardenopened, and he saw the familiar figure of Wentworth appear. His heartstood still. Did Wentworth know? Was he coming out of compassion? And atthe same moment that he thought it, further back somewhere in his mindhe was conscious of the absurdity of Wentworth having become suddenly soimportant--Wentworth's opinion, his personality mattering, hisrepresenting one of the instruments of Fate. He stood, therefore, toWentworth's surprise, absolutely still, waiting to see what his friend'sattitude would be. But there was no mistake about that, about theunaffected heartiness and rejoicing with which Wentworth met him, inabsolute unconsciousness of any possible cloud between them, anypossible reason why Rendel should not be as glad to see him as he hadbeen at any time since they had been at Oxford together.

  "Frank!" he said, as he came forward, "what's all this about? Why areyou hiding yourself here?" And he stopped in surprise at seeing as hespoke the words something in Rendel's whole bearing that made him feelas if he were speaking the truth in jest, as if the man before himreally were hiding, really had something to conceal.

  Then, after that first moment, Rendel realised that Wentworth knewnothing. That, at any rate, for the moment was to the good, and with anabounding sense of relief he held out his hand.

  "Don't you like these quarters?" he said. "We think they are perfectlydelightful."

  "So do I," Wentworth said, "so do I. They are so quiet."

  "My wife wants to be quiet," said Rendel, half indicating Rachel, whowas lying back in a garden chair, some knitting in her hands.

  "How are you, Mrs. Rendel?" said Wentworth, and he hastened forward togreet her.

  She put out her hand with a smile and shook hands with him, apparentlynot surprised at seeing him, or particularly interested.

  "You are certainly most delightfully cool here in the shade," he said."It is awfully hot in that promenade."

  "It must be," said Rachel.

  "How long have you been here?" Wentworth went on, sitting down.

  "How long is it?" said Rachel, with a slightly puzzled look, looking atRendel. "Only a few days, isn't it?"

  "Yes, not quite a week. My wife has not been well. We were recommendedhere that she might do the cure."

  "I see," Wentworth said, somewhat relieved at finding himself on the wayto an explanation. "Well, this is a splendid place, I believe, for thepeople that it cures," he added sapiently.

  "No doubt," Rendel said.

  There was another pause.

  "Then that is why we have not seen you at the Casino," Wentworth said."One can't avoid running up against people one knows at every turnhere."

  "Is that so?" said Rendel, a note of anxiety in his voice. "We have notrun up against any one yet."

  "Oh! dear me, yes," said Wentworth, unconscious that each of the nameshe might enumerate would represent to Rendel a possible inexorablejudge. "Half London is here: Lady Chaloner, Pateley--all sorts ofpeople."

  "Pateley?" said Rendel, the blood rushing to his face at the associationof ideas called up in his mind by that name.

  "Of course," said Wentworth. "Pateley, flourishing like the bay-tree.They say he is making thousands, and he looks as if he were."

  "Out of the _Arbiter_?" asked Rendel.

  "The _Arbiter_, I suppose, or something else. But I have no doubt hewould tell you if you asked him. He does not impress me as being one ofthe very reserved kind."

  "I don't know," said Rendel. "I don't suppose Pateley ever says morethan he means to say, with all his air of hearty communicativeness."

  "Well, I daresay not," said Wentworth. "The man's very good companyafter all; and as long as none of our secrets are in his keeping, itdoesn't matter particularly."

  Rendel said nothing. He felt he could not meet Pateley face to face atthis moment.

  "What do you do, then, all day here," said Wentworth, "if you don'tdrink the waters, and don't go to the Casino, and don't play Bridge?"

  "I don't know. I don't do very much," said Rendel, with an involuntaryaccent in the words that made Wentworth ponder over the undesirabilityof marrying a wife who is in mourning and depressed.

  "You should go into the wood," said Wentworth, "as the Germans do. Wefound a lot of them the other day singing part-songs out of littlebooks. There is a band of them here called the Society of the UnitedThrushes, composed of the most respectable and most middle-aged ladiesof the district."

  "That sounds charming," said Rendel.

  "Look here," said Wentworth, "if you don't care to walk alone, do let'swalk together. One can go up here and along the wood for miles. We'llhave good long stretches as we used to at Oxford. What do you think,Mrs. Rendel? Don't you think it would be a good thing for him?"

  "Very," said Rachel with a smile. "I think he ought to go and walk."

  "That's capital," said Wentworth. "Let's do that to-morrow, shall we?"

  "I should like it very much," said Rendel.

  But the next day the weather broke, and was unsettled for three days. Onthe Tuesday morning, happily for the bazaar and the big tent in thegrounds of the Casino, the sun shone out again, and everything wasradiant as before. Wentworth turned up at the pavilion in the forenoonand persuaded Rendel to make a day of it. The two started off togetherthrough the wood, the scented air floating round them, and bringing toRendel, as he strode along with a congenial companion, a sense of mentaland physical relief as though the atmosphere of both kinds that he wasbreathing were as different from that which had weighed him down afortnight ago as the scent of the aromatic pines was from the air of theLondon streets. Wentworth was full of talk, of a kind it must beconfessed which left his hearer at the end without any very distinctimpression of what it had been about, although it passed the timeagreeably and genially. He had his usual detached air, which Rendel hadalways been accustomed to find a relief as opposed to his own strenuousattitude, of standing aloof as an amused spectator of humancontingencies.

  "I haven't seen you for ever so long," Wentworth was saying. "Whatbecame of you at the end of the season? You vanished somehow, didn'tyou?"

  "We were in mourning, you know," Rendel replied.

  "Ah, to be sure, yes, Sir William Gore died," said Wentworth, attuninghis voice to what he considered a suitable key, on the assumption thatRendel would feel still more bound to be loyal to his father-in-law nowthan when, as he put it to himself, the "old humbug" was alive. "PoorMrs. Rendel, she looks as if it had been a great blow to her."

  "Yes," said Rendel, "it was; and she has been ill besides." And he toldWentworth briefly of what had happened to Rachel, and the condition shewas in, and the reassuring hopes held out by the doctors that she wouldalmost certainly recover her normal state.

  "I am very glad to hear that," said Wentworth cheerily. "Then you mustcome to London and start life again, Rendel, now you are free. SirWilliam Gore was rather a responsibility, I daresay."

  "Yes," said Rendel, "he was."

  "Let me see," said Wentworth, "it was just about when he di
ed, Isuppose, that Stamfordham published that sensational agreement withGermany?"

  "Yes," said Rendel, "it was the day before he died."

  "Ah," said Wentworth, "the day before? Then of course you didn't realisethe excitement it was. By Jove! of course you know I'm not 'in' all thatsort of thing myself, but I must say I never saw such a fuss and fizz asit was. The way it was sprung on people too! It was an awfully boldthing to do, you know; but it turned up trumps after all, that's thepoint. Stamfordham isn't like any body else, and that's the fact."

  "What's that place we are coming to through the trees?" said Rendel.

  "Why, that's it," said Wentworth. "That's where we shall get luncheon.They always have something ready for people who drop in."

  "It isn't crowded, is it?" said Rendel.

  "My dear fellow," replied Wentworth, "there is never anybody. I havebeen there twice since I came; once there was a German doctor, and oncethere was nobody."

  "All right," said Rendel.

  "You are sure to get veal," Wentworth said. "In Germany, whatever elseis wanting, you can always get a veal cutlet to slake your thirst with,after the longest and hottest walk."

  "I shall be quite content," said Rendel.

  They went on across the hollow, and up a slight ascent. They strolledidly round the woodland house, and saw, as they expected, in theagreeable little garden behind, a long table all ready for luncheon.

  "This is capital," said Wentworth. "You see, as I told you, they alwaysexpect people," and a waiting maid appearing at that moment, Wentworthproceeded to order luncheon for himself and Rendel in the best German hecould muster. Unfortunately, however, the proprietor of theestablishment was engaged in his cellar on important business, and thedialect spoken by the red-handed and red-cheeked maiden who receivedthem was not very intelligible. However, by dint of nodding of heads andpointing out items on the bill of fare, they came to an understanding,Wentworth taking for granted that something quite unintelligible thatshe had said about the table was an inquiry as to whether they wouldsit at it, which indeed it was. But it was further an inquiry as towhether they were of the party that was coming to sit at it, which healso quite cheerfully and unsuspectingly answered in the affirmative. Hethen pulled out his watch, and pointing to a given time at which hewould return, he and Rendel went further away into the wood.