Part 22 (1/2)
”I never shall cease to regret that I didn't see you in _The Reproach of Galilee_” Duff said; ”everyone who knows the least bit about it said you were marvellous in that.”
”Marvellous,” said Alicia.
Hilda gazed straight before her for an instant without speaking. The others looked at her absent eyes. ”A bazaar trick or two helped me,” she said, and glanced with vivacity at any other subject that might be hanging on the wall or visible out of the window.
”And are you really invincible about not putting it on again in Calcutta?” Duff asked.
”Not in Calcutta, or anywhere. The rest hate it--n.o.body has a chance but me,” Hilda said, and got up.
”Oh, I don't know,” Alicia began, but Miss Howe was already half way out of the discussion in the direction of the door. There was often a brusqueness in her comings and goings, but she usually left a flavour of herself behind. One turned with facility to talk about her, this being the easiest way of applying the stimulus that came of talking to her. It was more conspicuous than either of these two realised that they accepted her retreat without a word, that there was even between them a consciousness of satisfaction that she had gone.
”This morning's mail,” said Alicia, smiling brightly at him, ”brought you a letter, I know.” It was extraordinary how detached she was from her vital personal concern in him. It seemed relegated to some background of her nature while she occupied herself with the play of circ.u.mstances or was lost in her observation of him.
”How kind of you to think of it,” Lindsay said. ”This was the first by which I could possibly hear from England.”
”Ah, well, now you will have no more anxiety. Letters from on board s.h.i.+p are always difficult to write and unsatisfactory,” Alicia said. Miss Filbert's had been postcards, with a wide unoccupied margin at the bottom.
”The _Sutlej_ seems to have arrived on the 3rd; that's a day later, isn't it, than we made out she would be?”
Alicia consulted her memory and found she couldn't be sure. Lindsay was vexed by a similar uncertainty, but they agreed that the date was early in the month.
”Did they get comfortably through the Ca.n.a.l? I remember being tied up there for forty-eight hours once.”
”I don't think she says, so I fancy it must have been all right. The voyage is bound to do her good. I've asked the Simpsons to watch particularly for any sign of malaria later, though. One can't possibly know what she may have imported from that slum in Bentinck street.”
”And what was it like after Gibraltar?” Alicia asked, with a barely perceptible glance at the envelope edges showing over his breast pocket.
”I'll look,” and he sorted one out. It was pink and glossy, with a diagonal water-stripe. Lindsay drew out the single sheet it contained, and she could see that every line was ruled and faintly pencilled. ”Let me see,” said he. ”To begin at the beginning: 'We arrived home on the 3rd'--you see it was the 3rd--'making very slow progress the last day on account of a fog in the Channel'--ah, a fog in the Channel!--'which was a great disappointment to some on board who were impatient to meet their loved ones. One lady had not seen her family of five for seven years.
She said she would like to get out and swim, and you could not wonder.
She was my s--stable companion.'”.
”Quaint!” said Alicia.
”She has picked up the expression on board, 'So--so she told me this.'
Oh, yes. 'Now that it is all over I have written the voyage down among my mercies in spite of three days' sickness, when you could keep nothing on'--What are these two words, Miss Livingstone? I can't quite make them out.”
”'Your'--cambric?--stom--'stomach'--'your stomach.'”
”Oh, quite so. Thanks!--'in the Bay of Biscay.' You see, it _was_ rough after Gib. 'Everybody was'--Yes. 'The captain read Church of England prayers on Sunday mornings, in which I had no objection to join, and we had mangoes every day for a week after leaving Ceylon.'”
”Miss Filbert was so fond of mangoes,” Alicia said.
”Was she? 'The pa.s.sengers got up two dances, and quite a number of gentlemen invited me, but I declined with thanks, though I would not say it is wrong in itself.'” Lindsay seemed to waver; her glance went near enough to him to show her that his face had a red tinge of embarra.s.sment. He looked at the letter uncertainly, on the point of folding it up.
”You see she hasn't danced for so long,” Alicia put in quickly; ”she would naturally hesitate about beginning again with anybody but you. I shouldn't wonder,” she added gently, ”if she never does, with anybody else.”
”I know it's an idea some women have,” he replied, gratefully attributing it to her of whom they spoke. ”I think it's rather--nice.”
”And her impressions of the Simpsons--and Plymouth?”
”She goes on to that.” He re-consulted the letter. ”'Mr. and Mrs.