The Obstacle Race. Ethel M. Dell
anyone who said anything bad about you anyway," he said.
"I don't think you ought to talk like that," said Juliet, in her quiet way.
"Why not?" His eyes suddenly glowered again.
But she answered him with absolute calmness. "Because if you mean it, it's wrong—very wrong. And if you don't mean it, it's just foolish."
"Oh!" said Robin. He edged himself nearer to her. "I like you," he said.
"Talk some more! I like your voice."
"What shall I talk about?" she asked.
"Tell me about London!" he said.
"Oh, London! My dear boy, you'd hate London. It's all noise and crowds and dust. The streets are crammed with cars and people and there is never any peace. It's like a great wheel that is never still."
"What do the people do?" he asked.
"They just tear about from morning till night, and very often from night till morning. Everyone is always trying to be first and to be a little smarter than anyone else. They think they enjoy it." Juliet drew a sudden hard breath. "But they really don't. It's such a whirl, such a strain, like always running at top speed in a race and never getting there. Yes, it's just that—a sort of obstacle race, and the obstacles always getting higher and higher and higher." She stopped and uttered a deep slow sigh. "Well, I've done with it, Robin. I'm not going to get over any more. I've dropped out. I'm going to grow old in comfort."
Robin was listening with deep interest. "Is that why you came here?" he said.
"Yes. I was tired out and rather scared. I got away just in time—only just in time."
Something in her voice, low though it was, made him draw nearer still, massively, protectively.
"Are you hiding from someone?" he said.
"Oh, not exactly." She patted his shoulder gently. "No one would take the trouble to come and look for me," she said. "They're all much too busy with their own affairs."
His eyes sought hers again. "You're not frightened then any more?"
She smiled at him. "No, not a bit. I've got over that, and I'm beginning to enjoy myself."
"Shall you stay here always?" he questioned.
"I don't know, Robin. I'm not going to look ahead. I'm just going to make the best of the present. Don't you think that's the best way?"
He made a wry face. "I suppose it is—if you don't know what's coming."
"But no one knows that," said Juliet.
He glanced at her. His fingers, clasped about his knees, tugged restlessly at each other. "I know what's going to happen to me," he said, after a moment. "I'm going to get into a row—with Dicky."
"Oh, is that it?" said Juliet. "I knew there was something the matter."
He nodded, and suddenly she saw his chin quiver. "I hate a row with
Dicky," he said miserably.
Her heart went out to him, he looked so forlorn. "Why don't you go and tell him you're sorry?" she said gently.
"Not—sorry," articulated Robin, with a sniff.
The matter presented difficulties. Juliet tried to hedge. "What have you been doing?"
"Quarrelling," said Robin.
"What! With Dick?"
"No." Again he glanced at her, and wiped a hasty hand across his eyes.
"Dick!" he repeated, as if in derision at her colossal ignorance.
"Well, but who then?" she questioned. "That is—of course don't tell me if you'd rather not!"
"Don't mind," said Robin. "I'll tell you anything. It was—Jack." He suddenly turned to her fully with blazing eyes. "I—hate—Jack!" he said very emphatically.
"Jack! But who is Jack? Oh, I remember!" Juliet abruptly recalled the young chauffeur at the churchyard gate. "He is your other brother, isn't he? I'd forgotten him."
"He's—a beast!" said Robin. "I hate him."
His look challenged reproof. Juliet wisely made none. "Isn't he kind to you?" she said.
"It wasn't that!" blurted out Robin. "It—it—was what he said—about—about—" He suddenly stopped, closed his lips and sat savagely biting them.
"About what?" asked Juliet, bewildered.
Robin sat mute.
"I should forget it if I were you," she said sensibly. "People often do and say things they don't mean. It doesn't pay to be too sensitive. Let's forget it, shall we?"
"I can't," said Robin. "Dicky's angry." He paused, then continued with an effort. "He said I wasn't to come here, said—said he'd punish me if I did. He called me back, and I wouldn't go. He—" He suddenly broke off, and crept close to her like a frightened dog—"he's coming now!" he whispered.
The catch of the gate had clicked, and Columbus who had accepted Robin without question, bustled forward to investigate.
He came back almost immediately, wearing a satisfied look, and as he settled down again by Juliet's side, Green appeared on the path that led to the apple-trees.
Robin pressed closer to Juliet. She could feel him trembling.
Instinctively she laid her hand upon him as Green drew near.
"Have you come to see me or to look for Robin?" she said.
Green's look was enigmatical. It comprehended them both at a single glance. She wondered if he were really angry, but if so, he had himself under complete control.
"I have brought you a box of cigarettes to go on with, Miss Moore," he said, and produced his offering with a smile.
"How very kind of you!" said Juliet. She sat up with a quick flush of embarrassment. "How did you manage to get them so soon? You must have had them by you."
"I had," said Green. "But I can spare you these with pleasure. It's awful to be without a smoke, isn't it?"
Juliet smiled. "These will last me for ages. I am being very economical now. Please will you tell me how much they are?"
"Half-a-crown," he said.
"Oh, please!" she protested. "Let us be honest!"
"Exactly," he said. "It's all they cost me. I get them through a friend."
"But perhaps your friend wouldn't care for me to have them at that price," objected Juliet.
"Yes, he would. It's all right," Green dismissed the matter with an airiness that was curiously final. "Don't bother about paying me now, please! I'd rather have it later. Robin, get up!"
He addressed his young brother so suddenly and so peremptorily that
Juliet was momentarily startled. Then very swiftly she intervened.
"Mr. Green, please, don't—be angry with Robin!"
His look flashed straight down to her. His eyes were still smiling, yet very strangely they compelled her own. He stooped unexpectedly after an instant's pause, lifted her hand with absolute gentleness away from the quivering Robin, and laid it in her lap.
"Get up, old chap!" he said. "And don't be an ass!"
There was no questioning the kindness of his voice. Robin lifted his head, stared a moment, then blundered to his feet. He stood awkwardly, as if unwilling to go but expecting to be dismissed.
"He is staying to tea with me," said Juliet.
"Oh, I think not," Green said. "Another time—if you are kind enough.
Not to-day."
He spoke very