The Essential Elinor Glyn Collection. Glyn Elinor
loved him--"
Then she stopped suddenly; she had told herself she must never talk about love to any one. It was a subject that she must have nothing to do with. It could never come her way, now she was married to Josiah Brown, and it would be unwise to discuss it, even in the abstract.
The same beautiful, wild-rose tint tinged the white velvet as once before when she had spoken of _Jean d'Agrve_, and again Lord Bracondale experienced a sensation of satisfaction.
But this time he would not let her talk about the weather. The subject of love interested him, too.
"Yes, I am sure she did," he said, "and I always shall believe Fersen was her lover; no life, even a queen's, can escape one love."
"I suppose not," said Theodora, very low, and she looked out of the window.
"Love is not a passion which asks our leave if he may come or no, you see," Hector continued, trying to control his voice to sound dispassionate and discursive--he knew he must not frighten her. "Love comes in a thousand unknown, undreamed-of ways. And then he gilds the world and makes it into heaven."
"Does he?" almost whispered Theodora.
"And think what it must have been to a queen, married to a tiresome, unattractive Bourbon--and Fersen was young and gallant and thoughtful for her slightest good, and, from what one hears and has read, he must have understood her, and been her friend as well--and sometimes she must have forgotten about being a queen for a few moments--in his arms--"
Theodora drew a long, long breath, but she did not speak.
"And perhaps, if we knew, the remembrance of those moments may have been her glory and consolation in the last dark hours."
"Oh! I hope so!" said Theodora.
Then she walked on quickly into the quaint, little, low-ceilinged bedroom. Oh, she must get out into the air--or she must talk of furniture, or curtain stuffs, or where the bath had been!
Love, love, love! And did it mean life after all?--since even this far-off love of this poor dead queen had such power to move her. And perhaps Fersen was like--but this last thought caused her heart to beat too wildly.
There were no roses now, she was very pale as she said: "It saddens me, this. Let us go out into the sun."
They descended the staircase again almost in silence, and on through the little door in the court-yard wall into the beautiful garden beyond.
"Show me where she was happy, where you know she was happy before any troubles came. I want to be gay again," said Theodora.
So they walked down the path towards the _hameau_.
"What have I done?" Lord Bracondale wondered. "Her adorable face went quite white. Her soul is no longer the open book I have found it. There are depths and depths, but I must fathom them all."
"Oh, how I love the spring-time!" exclaimed Theodora, and her voice was full of relief. "Look at those greens, so tender and young, and that peep of the sky! Oh, and those dear, pretty little dolls' houses! Let us hasten; I want to go and play there, and make butter, too! Don't you?"
"Ah, this is good," he said; "and I want just what you want."
Her face was all sweet and joyous as she turned it to him.
"Let's pretend we lived then," she said, "and I am the miller's daughter of this dear little mill, and you are the bailiff's son who lives opposite, and you have come with your corn to be ground. Oh, and I shall make a bargain, and charge you dear!" and she laughed and swung her parasol back, while the sun glorified her hair into burnished silver.
"What bargain could you make that I would not agree to willingly?" he asked.
"Perhaps some day I shall make one with you--or want to--that you will not like," she said, "and then I shall remind you of this day and your gallant speech."
"And I shall say then as I say now. I will make any bargain with you, so long as it is a bargain which benefits us both."
"Ah, you are a Normand, you hedge!" she laughed, but he was serious.
They walked all around the _laiterie_, and all the time she was gay and whimsical, and to herself she was saying, "I am unutterably happy, but we must not talk of love."
"Now you have had enough of this," Lord Bracondale said, when they were again in view of the house, "and I am going to take you into a forest like the babes in the woods, and we shall go and lose ourselves and forget the world altogether. The very sight of these harmless tourists in the distance jars upon me to-day. I want you alone and no one else. Come."
And she went.
"I have never been here before," said Theodora, as they turned into the Forest of Marly. "And you have been wise in your choice so far. I love trees."
"You see how I study and care for the things which belong to me," said Hector. It gave him ridiculous pleasure to announce that sentence again--ridiculous, unwarrantable pleasure.
Theodora turned her head away a little. She would like to have continued the subject, but she did not dare.
Presently they came to a side _alle_, and after going up it about a mile the automobile stopped, and they got out and walked down a green glade to the right.
Oh, and I wonder if any of you who read know the Forest of Marly, and this one green glade that leads down to the centre of a star where five avenues meet? It is all soft grass and splendid trees, and may have been a _rendezvous de chasse_ in the good old days, when life--for the great--was fair in France.
It is very lonely now, and if you want to spend some hours in peace you can almost count upon solitude there.
"Now, is not this beautiful?" he asked her, as they neared the centre, "and soon you will see why I carry this rug over my arm. I am going to take you right to the middle of the star until you see five paths for you to choose from, all green and full of glancing sunlight, and when you have selected one we will penetrate down it and sit under a tree. Is it good--my idea?"
"Very good," said Theodora. Then she was silent until they reached the _rond-point_.
There was that wonderful sense of aloofness and silence--hardly even the noise of a bird. Only the green, green trees, and here and there a shaft of sunlight turning them into the shade of a lizard's back.
An ideal spot for--poets and dreamers--and lovers--Theodora thought.
"Now we are here! Look this way and that! Five paths for us to choose from!"
Then something made Theodora say, "Oh, let us stay in the centre, in this one round place, where we can see them all and their possibilities."
"And do you think uncertain possibilities are more agreeable perhaps than certain ends?" he asked.
"I never speculate," said Theodora.
"As you will, then," he said, while he looked into her eyes, and he placed the rug up against a giant tree between two avenues, so that their view really only extended down three others now.
"We have turned our backs on the road we came," he said, "and on another road that leads in a roundabout way to the Grande Avenue again. So now we must look into the unknown and the future."
"It seems all very green and fair," said Theodora, and she leaned back against the tree and half closed her eyes.
He lay on the grass at her feet, his hat thrown off beside him, and in a desert island they could not have been more alone and undisturbed.
The greatest temptation that Hector Bracondale had ever yet had in his life came to him then. To make love to her, to tell her of all