by Elinor Glyn
CHAPTER XXIV
The neighbours and his parents were astonished at the eloquence of Paul'sspeech at the great dinner given to the tenants next day. No one hadguessed at his powers before, and the county papers, and indeed some Londonreporters, had predicted a splendid political future for this youngorator. It had been quite a long speech, and contained sound arguments andcommon sense, and was expressed in language so lofty and refined that itsent ecstatic admiration through his mother's fond breast.
And all the time Paul spoke he saw no sea of faces below him--only hissoul's eyes were looking into those strange chameleon orbs of his lady. Hesaid every word as if she had been there, and at the end it almost seemedshe must have heard him, so soft a peace fell on his spirit. Yes, she wouldhave been pleased with her lover, he knew, and that held large grains ofconsolation. And so these days passed in well-accomplished duty; and atlast all the festivities were over, and he could rest.
Captain Grigsby and his father had helped him whenever they could, and aneternal bond of friendship was cemented between the three.
"By Jove, Charles! You ought to be thundering proud of that boy!" CaptainGrigsby said the morning of his departure for Scotland on August 10. "He'scome up to the scratch like a hero, and whatever the damage, the lady musthave been well worth while to turn him out polished like that. Gad!Charles, I'd take a month's journey to see her myself."
And Paul's father grunted with satisfaction as he said: "I told you so."
Thus the summer days went by in the strengthening of Paul'scharacter--trying always to live up to an ideal--trying ever to dominatehis grief--but never trying to forget.
By the autumn shooting time his health was quite restored, and except thathe looked a year or so older there were no outward traces of the passingthrough that valley of the shadow, from whence he had escaped with just hislife.
But the three weeks of his lady's influence had changed the inner manbeyond all recognition. His spirit was stamped with her namelessdistinction, and all the vistas she had opened for him to the tree ofknowledge he now followed up. No smallest incident of his day seemedunconnected with some thought or wish of hers--so that in truth she stillguided and moulded him by the power of her great soul.
But in spite of all these things, the weeks and months held hours of achinglonging and increasing anxiety to know how she fared. If she should beill. If their hope was coming true, then now she must be suffering, andsuffering all alone. Sometimes the agony of the thought was more than Paulcould bear, and took him off with Pike alone into the leafless woods whichcrowned a hill at the top of the park. And then he would pause, and lookout at the view, and the dull November sky, a madness of agonising unresttorturing his heart.
The one thing he felt glad of was the absence of his Uncle Hubert, who hadbeen made Minister in a South American Republic, and would not return toEngland for more than a year. So there would be no temptation to questionhim, or perchance to hear one of his clever, evil jests which might containsome allusion to his lady. Lord Hubert Aldringham was fond of boasting ofhis royal acquaintances, and was of a mind that found "not even Lancelotbrave, nor Galahad clean." Now all Paul could do was to wait and hope. Atleast his Queen had his address. She could write to him, even though hecould not write to her--and surely, surely, some news of her must come.
Thus the winter arrived, and the hunting--hunting that he had been sure waswhat he liked best in all the world.
And now it just served to pass the time and distract some hours from theanguishing ache by its physical pleasure. But in that, as in everything hedid at this time, Paul tried to outshine his fellows, and gain one morelaurel to lay at the feet of his Queen. Socially he was having an immensesuccess. He began to be known as some one worth listening to by men, andwomen hung on his words. It was peculiarly delightful to find so young andbeautiful a creature with all the knowledge and fascinating _cachet_ of aman of the world. And then his complete indifference to them piqued andallured them still more. Always polite and chivalrous, but as aloof as amountain top. Paul had no small vanity to be soothed by their worship intoforgetting for one moment his Queen. So his shooting-visits passed, and hisexperience of life grew.
Isabella had returned at Christmas, engaged to a High Church curate, andbeaming with satisfaction and health. And it gave Paul, and indeed themboth, pleasure to meet and talk for an hour. She was a good sort always,and if he marvelled to himself how he had even been even mildly attractedby her, he did not let it appear in his manner.
But one thing jarred.
"My goodness, Paul, how smart Pike's collar is!" Isabella had said. "Didyou ever! You extravagant boy! It is good enough for a lady's bracelet. Youhad better give it to me! It will make the finest wedding gift I'll have!"
But Paul had snatched Pike up, the blood burning in his cheeks, and hadlaughed awkwardly and turned the conversation.
No one's fingers but his own were ever allowed to touch the sacred gold.
About this time his mother began to have the idea he ought really tomarry. His father had been thirty at the time of his wedding with herself,and she had always thought that was starting too late. Twenty-three was agood age, and a sweet, gentle wife of Paul's would be the joy of herdeclining years--to say nothing of several grandchildren. But when thismatter was broached to him first, Paul laughed, and when it became a dailysubject of conversation, he almost lost that quick temper of his, which wasnot quite yet under perfect control.
"I tell you what it is, mother," he said, "if you tease me like this Ishall go away on a voyage round the world!"
So the Lady Henrietta subsided into pained silence, and sulked with heradored son for more than a day.
"Paul is so unaccountably changed since his visit abroad," she said to herhusband plaintively. "I sometimes wonder, Charles, if we really know allthe people he met."
And Sir Charles had replied, "Nonsense! Henrietta--the lad is a man now,and immensely improved; do leave him in peace."
But when he was alone the father had smiled to himself--rather sadly--forhe saw a good deal with his shrewd eyes, though he said no words ofsympathy to his son. He knew that Paul was suffering still, perhaps askeenly as ever, and he honoured his determination to keep it all from view.
So the old year died, and the new one came--and soon February would behere. Ah! with what passionate anxiety the end of that month was awaited byPaul, only his own heart knew.
