Greatheart by Ethel May Dell (best books to read for beginners TXT) 📕

yet she shrank from the thought of his disappointment in her as she had never before shrunk from the Colonel's rebuke. She was sure that she had forfeited his good opinion for ever, and many and bitter were the tears that she shed over her loss.

Her thoughts of Eustace were of too confused a nature to be put into coherent form. The moment they turned in his direction her brain became a flashing whirl in which doubts, fears, and terrible ectasies ran wild riot. She lay and trembled at the memory of his strength, exulting almost in the same moment that he had stooped with such mastery to possess her. His magnificence dazzled her, deprived her of all powers of rational judgment. She only realized that she—and she alone—had been singled out of the crowd for that fiery worship; and it seemed to her that she had been created for that one splendid purpose.

But always the memory of Scott shot her triumph through with a regret so poignant as to deprive it of all lasting rapture. She had hurt him, she had disappointed him; she did not know how she would ever look him in the eyes again.

Her sleep throughout that last night was broken and unrefreshing, and ever the haunting strains of Simple Aveu pulsed through her brain like a low voice calling her perpetually, refusing to be stilled. Only one night more and she would be back in her home; this glittering, Alpine dream would be over, never to return. And again she turned on her pillow and wept. It was so hard, so hard, to go back.

In the morning she arose white-faced and weary, with dark shadows under her eyes, and a head that throbbed tormentingly. She breakfasted with Isabel in the latter's room, and was again deeply grateful to her friend for forbearing to comment upon her subdued manner. She could not make any pretence at cheerfulness that day, being in fact still so near to tears that she could scarcely keep from breaking down.

"Don't wait for me, dear!" Isabel said gently at length. "I see you are not hungry. We are taking some provisions with us; perhaps you will feel more like eating presently."

Dinah escaped very thankfully and returned to her own room.

Here she remained for awhile till more sure of herself; then Biddy came in to finish her packing and she slipped away to avoid the old woman's shrewd observation. She feared to go downstairs lest she should meet Scott; but presently, as she hovered in the passage, she heard his halting tread in the main corridor.

He was evidently on his way to his sister's room, and seizing her opportunity, she ran like a hare in the opposite direction and managed to slip downstairs without adventure.

She was not to escape unnoticed, however. The first person she encountered in the vestibule came forward instantly at sight of her with the promptitude of one who has been lying in wait.

She recoiled with a gasp, but she could not run away. She was caught as surely as she had been the night before.

"Hullo!" smiled Sir Eustace, with extended hand. "Going out for a last look round? May I come too?"

She felt the dominance of his grip. It was coolly, imperially possessive. To answer his request seemed superfluous, even bordering upon presumption. It was obvious that he had every intention of accompanying her.

She gave a confused murmur of assent, and they passed through the vestibule side by side. She was conscious of curious glances from several strangers who were standing about, and Eustace exchanged a few words with a species of regal condescension here and there as they went. And then they were out in the pure sunlight of the mountains, alone for the last time in their paradise of snow.

Almost instinctively Dinah turned up the winding track. They had half an hour before them, and she felt she could not bear to stand still. He strolled beside her, idly smoking, not troubling to make conversation, now as ever sublimely at his ease.

The snow sparkled around them like a thousand gems Dinah's eyes were burning and smarting with the brightness. And still that tender waltz-music ran lilting through her brain, drifting as it were through the mist of her unshed tears.

Suddenly he spoke. They were nearing the pine-wood and quite alone. "Is there anything the matter?"

She choked down a great lump in her throat before she could speak in answer. "No," she murmured then. "I—I am just—rather low about leaving; that's all."

"Quite all?" he said.

His tone was so casual, so normal, that it seemed impossible now to think of last night's happening save as an extravagant dream. She almost felt for the moment as if she had imagined it all. And then he spoke again, and she caught a subtle note of tenderness in his voice that brought it all back upon her in an overwhelming rush.

"That's really all, is it? You're not unhappy about anything else? Scott hasn't been bullying you?"

She gasped at the question. "Oh no! Oh no! He wouldn't! He couldn't!
I—haven't even seen him today."

He received the information in silence; but in a moment or two he tossed away his cigarette with the air of a man having come to an abrupt resolution.

"And so you're fretting about going home?" he said.

She nodded mutely. The matter would not bear discussion.

"Poor little Daphne!" he said. "It's been a good game, hasn't it?"

She nodded again. "Just like the dreams that never come true," she managed to say.

"Would you like it to come true?" he asked her unexpectedly.

She glanced up at him with a woeful little smile. "It's no good thinking of that, is it?" she said.

"I have an idea we could make it come true between us," he said.

She shook her head. That brief glimpse of his intent eyes had sent a sudden and overwhelming wave of shyness through her. She remembered again the fiery holding of his arms, and was afraid.

He paused in his walk and turned aside to the railing that bounded the side of the track above the steep, pine-covered descent. "Wish hard enough," he said, "and all dreams come true!"

Dinah went with him as if compelled. She leaned against the railing, glad of the support, while he sat down upon it. His attitude was supremely easy and self-possessed.

"Do you know, Daphne," he said, "I've taken a fancy to that particular dream myself? Now I've caught you, I don't see myself letting you go again."

Her heart throbbed at his words. She bent her head, fixing her eyes upon the rough wood upon which she leaned.

"But it's no good, is it?" she said, almost below her breath. "I've just got to go."

He put his hand on her shoulder, and she was conscious afresh of the electricity of his touch. She shrank a little—a very little; for she was frightened, albeit curiously aware of a magnetism that drew her irresistibly.

"Yes, I suppose you've got to go," he said. "But—there's nothing to prevent me following you, is there?"

She quivered from head to foot. That hand upon her shoulder sent such a tumult of emotions through her that she could not collect her thoughts in any coherent order. "I—I don't know," she whispered, bending her head still lower. "They—I don't know what they would say at home."

"Your people?" His hand was drawing her now with an insistent pressure that would not be denied. "They'd probably dance on their heads with delight," he said, his tone one of slightly supercilious humour. "I assure you I am considered something of a catch by a good many anxious mammas."

She started at that, started and straightened herself, lifting shy eyes to his. "Oh, but we've only been—playing," she said rather uncertainly. "Just—just pretending to flirt, that's all."

He laughed, bending his handsome, imperious face to hers. "It's been a fairly solid pretence, hasn't it?" he said. "But I'm proposing something slightly different now. I'm offering you my hand—as well as my heart."

Dinah was trembling all over. She gasped for breath, drawing back slightly from the nearness of his lips. "Do you mean—you'd like—to marry me?" she whispered tremulously, and hid her face on the instant; for the bald words sounded preposterous.

He laughed again, softly, half-mockingly, and drew her into his arms. "Whatever made you think of that, my elf of the mountains? I'll vow it came into your head first. Ah, you needn't hide your eyes from me. I know you're mine—all mine. I've known it from the first—ever since you began to run away. But I've caught you now. Haven't I? Haven't I?"

She clung to him desperately. It seemed the only way; for she was for the moment swept off her feet, terribly afraid of arousing that storm of passion which had so overwhelmed her the night before. Instinct warned her what to expect if she attempted to withdraw herself. Moreover, the tumult of her feeling was such that she did not want to do so. She wanted only to hide her head for a space, and be still.

He pressed her close, still laughing at her shyness. "What a good thing I'm not shy!" he said. "If I were, to-day would be the end of everything instead of the beginning. Can't you bring yourself to look at your new possession? Did you think you could laugh and run away for all time?"

Then, as in muffled accents she besought him to be patient with her, he softened magically and for the first time spoke of love.

"Don't you know you have wrenched the very heart out of me, you little brown witch? I loved you from the very first moment of our dance together. You've been too much for me all through. I had to have you. I simply had to have you."

She trembled afresh at his words, but she clung closer. If the fear deepened, so also did the fascination. She tried to picture him as hers—hers, and failed. He was so fine, so splendid, so much too big for her.

He went on, dropping his voice lower, his breath warm upon her neck. "Are you going to take all and give—nothing, Daphne? Did they make you without a heart, I wonder? Like a robin that mates afresh a dozen times in a season? Haven't you anything to give me, little sweetheart? Are you going to keep me waiting for a long, long time, and then send me empty away?"

That moved her. That he should stoop to plead with her seemed so amazing, almost a fabulous state of affairs.

With a little sob, she lifted her face at last. "Oh, Apollo!" she said brokenly. "Apollo the magnificent! I am all yours—all yours! But don't—don't take too much—at a time!"

The plea must have touched him, accompanied as it was by that full surrender. He held her a moment, looking down into her eyes with the fiery possessiveness subdued to a half-veiled tenderness in his own.

Then, very gently, even with reverence, he bent his face to hers. "Give me—just what you can spare, then, little sweetheart!" he said. "I can always come again for more now."

She slipped her arms around his neck, and shyly, childishly, she kissed the lips that had devoured her own so mercilessly the night before.

"Yes—yes, I will always give you more!" she said tremulously.

He took her face between his hands and kissed her in return, not violently, but with confidence. "That seals you for my very own," he said. "You will never run away from me again?"

But she would not promise that. The memory of the previous night still scorched her intolerably whenever her thoughts turned that way.

"I shan't want to run away if—if you stay as you are now," she told him confusedly.

He laughed in his easy way. "Oh, Daphne, I shall have a lot to teach you when we are married. How soon do you think you can be ready?"

She started in his hold at the question, and then quickly gave herself fully back to him again. "I don't know a bit. You'll have to ask mother. P'raps—she may not allow it at all."

"Ho! Won't she?" said Sir Eustace. "I think I know better. What about that trip on the yacht in July? Can you be ready in time for that?"

"Oh, I expect I could be ready sooner than that," said Dinah naïvely.

"You could?" He smiled upon her. "Well, next week then! What do you say to next week?"

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