The Obstacle Race. Ethel M. Dell
thinking of settling down here all the same," said Juliet.
He stopped short in the path. "Are you really?"
She nodded with a smile. "You seem surprised. Why shouldn't I? Isn't there room for one more?"
"Oh, plenty of room," he said, and walked on again as abruptly as he had paused.
The path became wider and more level, and he relinquished her hand. "You won't stay," he said with conviction.
"I wonder," said Juliet.
"Of course you won't!" A hint of vehemence crept into his speech. "When the nightingales have left off singing, and the wild roses are over, you'll go."
"You seem very sure of that," said Juliet.
"Yes, I am sure." He spoke uncompromisingly, almost contemptuously, she thought.
"You evidently don't stay here because you like it," she said.
"My work is here," he returned noncommittally. She wondered a little, but something held her back from pursuing the matter. She walked several paces in silence. Then, "I wish I could find work here," she said, in her slow deep voice. "It would do me a lot of good."
"Would it?" He turned towards her. "But that isn't what you came for—not to find work, I mean?"
"Well, no—not primarily." She made the admission almost guiltily. "But I think everyone ought to be able to earn a livelihood, don't you?"
"It's safer certainly," he said. "But it isn't everyone that is qualified for it."
"No?" Her voice was whimsical. "And you think I shall seek in vain for any suitable niche here?"
"It depends upon what your capabilities are," he said.
"My capabilities!" She laughed, a soft, low laugh. "Columbus! What are my capabilities!"
They had reached a railing and a gate across the path leading down to the village. Columbus, waiting to go through, wriggled in a manner that expressed his entire ignorance on the subject. Juliet leaned against the gate with her face to the western sky.
"My capabilities!" she mused. "Let me see! What can I do?" She looked at her companion with a smile. "I am afraid I shall have to refer you to Lady Joanna Farringmore. She can tell you—exactly."
He made a slight movement of surprise. "You know the Farringmore family?"
She raised her brows a little. "Yes. Do you?"
"By hearsay only. Lord Wilchester owns the High Shale Mines. I have never met any of them." He spoke without enthusiasm.
"And never want to?" she suggested. "I quite understand. I am very tired of them myself just now—most especially of Lady Joanna. But perhaps it is rather bad taste to say so, as I have been brought up as her companion from childhood."
"And now you have left her?" he said.
"Yes I have left her. I have disapproved of her for some time," Juliet spoke thoughtfully. "She is very unconventional, you know. And I—well, at heart I fancy I must be rather a prude. Anyhow, I disapproved, more and more strongly, and at last I came away."
"That was rather brave of you," he commented.
"Oh, it wasn't much of a sacrifice. I've got a little money—enough to keep me from starvation; but not enough to buy me cigarettes—at least not the kind I like." Juliet's smile was one of friendly confidence. "I think it's about my only real vice, and I've never been used to inferior ones. Do you mind telling me where you get yours?"
He smiled back at her as he felt for his cigarette-case. "You had better try one and make sure you like them before you get any."
"Oh, I know I should like them," she said, "thank you very much. No, don't give me one! I feel as if I've begged for it. But just tell me where you get them, and if they're not too expensive I'll buy some to try."
He held the open cigarette-case in front of her. "Won't you honour me by accepting one?" he said.
She hesitated, and then in a moment very charmingly she yielded. "Thank you—Mr. Green. I seem to have accepted a good deal from you to-night. Thank you very much."
He made her a slight bow. "It has been my privilege to serve you," he said. "I hope I may have further opportunities of being of use. I can get you these cigarettes at any time if you like them. But they are not obtainable locally."
"Not!" Her face fell. "How disappointing!"
"Not from my point of view," he said. "There's no difficulty about it. I can get them for you if you will allow me."
He struck a match for her, and kindled a cigarette for himself also.
Juliet inhaled a deep breath. "They are lovely," she said. "I knew I should like them when you went past Mrs. Rickett's smoking one."
He looked at her with amusement. "When was that?"
"When I was waiting for that dreadful ginger pudding at lunch—I mean dinner." She paused. "No, that's horrid of me. Please consider it unsaid!"
"Why shouldn't you say it if you think it?" he asked.
"Because it's unkind. Mrs. Rickett is the soul of goodness. And I am going to learn to like her ginger pudding—and her dumplings—and everything that is hers."
"How heroic of you! I wonder if you will succeed."
"Of course I shall succeed," Juliet spoke with confidence as she turned to pass through the gate. "I am going to cultivate a contented mind here. And when I go back to Lady Jo—if I ever do—I shall be proof against anything."
He reached forward to open the gate. "I think you will probably go back long before the contented mind has begun to sprout," he said.
She laughed as she walked on down the path. "But it has begun already. I haven't felt so cheerful for a long time."
"That isn't real contentment," he pointed out. "It's your spirit of adventure enjoying itself. Wait till you begin to be bored!"
"How extremely analytical!" she remarked. "I am not going to be bored. My spirit of adventure is not at all an enterprising one. I assure you I didn't enjoy that tumble over the cliff in the least. I am a very quiet person by nature." She began to laugh. "You must have noticed I wasn't very intrepid in the face of danger. I seem to remember your telling me not to be silly."
"I hoped you had forgiven and forgotten that," he said.
"Neither one nor the other," she answered, checking her mirth. "I think you would have been absolutely justified in using even stronger language under the circumstances. You wouldn't have saved me if you hadn't been—very firm."
"Very brutal, you mean. No, I ought to have managed better. I will next time." He spoke with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness in his words.
"When will that be?" said Juliet.
"I don't know. But I can make the way down much easier. The steps are a simple matter, and I have often thought a charge of gunpowder would improve that bit where the rock hangs over. If I hadn't wanted to keep the place to myself I should have done it long ago. It certainly is dangerous now to anyone who doesn't know."
Juliet came to a sudden halt in the path. "Oh, you are an engineer!" she said. "I hope you will not spoil your favourite eyrie just because I may some day fall over into it again. The chance is a very remote one, I assure you. Now, please don't come any farther with me! It has only just dawned on me that your way probably lies in the direction of the mines. I shouldn't have let you come so far if I had realized it sooner."
He looked momentarily surprised. "But I do live in this direction," he said. "In any case, I hope you will allow me to see you safely back."
"But there is no need," she protested. "We are practically there. Do you really live this way?"
"Yes.