Читать книгу Shadowed Gold - Alice Fox Parry - Страница 3

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The team were in conference and unusually serious. Seated around the dining table in the living loom of their little flat in St. Kilda, they presented a united front to a new and perplexing problem, and considered it in all its bearings.

There were four of them—Katherine Starr and her brother, Gerald; Allan Linton and his stepsister, Valerie Raymond.

Katherine took the head of the table, by virtue of an authority which none dreamed of disputing. She was tall and slender, with brown eyes that were often merry, and sensitive curving lips. More than one ambitious artist had sought to paint Katherine Starr, but here was a mysterious and illusive beauty, of which she herself seemed most unconscious. Her brother, two years her junior, was still very much of a boy in spite of his 23 years, with a boyish face, surmounted by unruly dark hair, but his usually bright face was clouded, and he stared miserably at the table.

Opposite Katherine her cousin Allan lounged awkwardly in his big chair, and regarded his empty pipe thoughtfully, while Valerie, the youngest of the group, looked from one to the other with eager hazel eyes. She was a tiny, slender person, dainty in every movement, her crowning beauty the mass of red-gold hair that framed the small pale face. She was no relation of the Starr's, nor yet of Allan, for his father's second wife had been a widow with one small girl when she married George Linton, but when the motoring tragedy had robbed them all of parents, the other three had unhesitatingly adopted her into their family circle.

It was Allan who had christened the "Team," and the name had stuck. They did things together, and shared them—holidays, friends, jokes and troubles. Katherine and Valerie's many admirers had learnt that it was hopeless to attempt to break into the magic circle, and it was certain that no girl existed who had, for the boys, half their attraction, though on occasion Gerald and Valerie were prone to impulsive friendships, and once they had nearly lost Katherine.

So after the crash they had taken up the threads of their lives, and, moving to the little flat, had faced the world together with easy comradeship, and found it very fair. Now, after two years, had come the testing time, when the Team was faced with the prospect of dissolution. Therefore they were serious.

Katherine turned to her brother. "Let's have it, Ger."

Gerald hesitated.

"Buck up, old chap!" said Allan, encouragingly. "You're not dead yet, and with four of us to face it together we'll soon have you right again."

Katherine flashed an approving smile at him, and they all waited for Gerald, whose unusually pale face flushed painfully.

"Stark just backs up the other chap's verdict. With fresh air and nourishment I'll be quite all right in a year or so."

"You mean you'll have to go away?"

"It's more than a holiday, Kath. It means living in the country and working there, and throwing up my job at Lang's."

"And if you don't?"

"He says it's only a question of time. The lungs aren't affected much now, but this damned cold I've had all the winter has pulled me right down."

"You are thin," Katherine frowned.

"You'll have to go then." Allan began to fill his pipe deliberately. "But it will hurt like the deuce breaking up the gang."

"Yes, I suppose I'll have to try for a job on a farm somewhere," answered Gerald dispiritedly.

"But you can't," Katherine looked at her brother anxiously. "You're not strong enough yet, and you need someone to look after you."

"Why shouldn't we all go?"

"Valerie!" Three pairs of eyes regarded the hitherto silent girl with amazement. A swift, warm flood of colour glowed in her cheeks, and her hazel eyes were very bright.

"Gerald can't go alone," she said. "He'll get wet feet and smoke too much, and do a hundred things he shouldn't, and be worse than ever."

"Thanks!" said Gerald shortly.

"You're quite right, Val," corroborated his sister. "Men simply cannot be trusted to look after themselves, but what can we do?"

"I—I only thought—Allan has always wanted to go on the land, and if Gerald has to——"

"By Jove, you've hit it!" Allan's large fist crashed down upon the table. "Let's be farmers."

"You're quite mad." Katherine looked from one to the other despairingly, but there was a gleam of hope in her heart. She and Gerald had never been parted before, and the prospect of seeing the boy go to strangers, particularly in a weakened state of health, was worrying her more than she had owned.

"Not it all," retorted Allan. "As Val has pointed out—Gerald must go. I've always been keen on it. Office work never did appeal to me. I only took it on to oblige dear old dad, so in any case, I'll go with him. It rests with you girls. It means roughing it, perhaps. Can you face it?"

"What a question!" Katherine's proud head went up. "But its so overwhelming, and you talk about it as if you were planning to run down to Cowes for the weekend."

"I can't let you do it," broke in Gerald excitedly. "It means giving up all you're used to just for me."

"Don't delude yourself." Valerie's eyes were dancing. "It's too thrilling for words. Of course, if you don't want us, Ger——"

"Want you?" The boy broke out feverishly. "Why——" he paused, as if at a loss for words to express his need.

"Then that's settled," said Valerie placidly. "Shall we keep pigs?"

"Why pigs?" asked Allan curiously.

"They're such darlings, I mean the little ones are, and I do like bacon for breakfast."

Katherine still stared about her with startled eyes. "Allan, do you think we can?"

"I don't see why not," he replied. "But it must be your decision. As Gerald says, it will be a case of doing without a lot of things you regard as essentials."

"Such as?"

"Hot water service, electric light, gas, theatres, dances, young men at your beck and call——-"

"That'll do."

"And a hundred other harmless and unnecessary appliances."

"An you and Ger won't have to give up anything, I suppose?"

"Stiff collars, tight boots, and the alarm clock at 7.30."

"I wish you wouldn't joke." She wrinkled her brows. "I'd give up anything to be with Ger, and if you and Val could come too, it would be just heavenly, but there are lots of things to be considered—money for instance."

"Well, we've all got some. Not that I'd propose putting it all into this, because we're very ignorant, and farmers fail like everyone else. I would propose we all adventure, say, £500 each, and borrow more if we need it, which will leave us with a margin. We don't want a big place."

"I'm glad of that."

"No sarcasm, please. I think fruit would be the best, up in the north-east somewhere, in the mountains."

"You seem to have thought it all out."

"I did a few years back, when I wanted to go myself. If Ger has got to work out of doors it would be much better for him to be his own master."

"I shall keep poultry," announced Valerie. "White ones, and have lots of baby chickens and a dog."

"Queer combination," grinned Gerald, and then became serious again. "It's splendid of you all to take it like this, but suppose the whole thing's a failure, what do you think I'll feel like?"

"Nonsense!" interrupted Allan, pushing back his chair to stretch his legs more comfortably. "It's pure selfishness. Flats like this were not built for men of my size." He stood six feet three in his stockings and was built in proportion. "Why, whenever I have a bath here I've got to stick my feet out of the window."

"Do farms run to bathrooms at all?" queried Valerie.

"Well, there's always the pump," he returned calmly. "Katherine, fair lady, not convinced yet?"

"It's such a plunge in the dark," she said. "It's not money I'm thinking about. We're all young and can earn more, but—oh! It all seems so absurd—Allan, who is an accountant in a city warehouse——"

"The accounts of the new venture will be scientifically kept, Madame."

"Gerald, who has just qualified as an architect——"

"His talent will be fittingly employed on the erection of henhouses and—I think you said pigsties, Valerie?"

"Val," continued Katherine remorselessly, "whose knowledge of poultry begins and ends with her breakfast egg and Sunday fowl, who simply hates housework."

"Unless you all get married," said Valerie defensively. "Then I'll start a creche for——" she dodged a cushion neatly. "I'm serious, Ger."

"Something unusual." Gerald's cheerfulness was fast returning.

"And what about yourself, Kath?" asked Allan. "We know it's harder on you than any of us. You manage the flat rippingly, but it's a different proposition being 10 miles from the nearest store."

"Those are mere trifles," returned his cousin loftily.

"Will we have to give up the car?" asked Gerald.

"I shouldn't think so. We'll need something of the sort." Allen straightened. "Look here, chaps, we've had all the disadvantages. Kath has proved to us that we're a group of incapables. It means adventuring £2,000; it means giving up most of the pleasures that make life bearable and going into doubtful exile. Now, on the other hand Gerald's got to go, and though we love you, cousin, we know you're quite incapable of taking care of yourself, and it breaks into the Team. Besides," he hesitated, "isn't this rather a testing time? Since we came together we've had smooth running. This is the first hurdle. Are we going to clear it?"

Katherine's dark eyes smiled into his. "You've put things awfully well, Allan. It's not that I'm afraid, but I just wanted to be convinced."

"And you are?"

"In the essentials. I expect we're bound to quarrel over details."

"Hooray," cried Gerald excitedly, and then was seized with a fit of coughing that made them look at him anxiously.

"Well, when do we start?" asked Valerie when the paroxysm had somewhat subsided.

"Steady, my child," Allan picked up the newspaper. "We've got to catch our farm first. I'll go and see young Leighton. He's in the stock and station line, and may be able to put us on to something."

"Were sure to be had," said Katherine lugubriously. "Never mind. Will there be horses?"

"Possibly. We'll need one for ploughing. That will be about your form." Her look of indignation failed to move him. "And we'll get a mount for Val, too. What do you say to a nice, quiet donkey?"

"We have one already that is neither nice nor quiet," she returned witheringly. "Kath, I shall get my hair cut before I go."

"Don't you dare!" cried three voices at once. Valerie's golden glory was, like all other assets, considered a family possession.

"I shall, and I'm going to get breeches—nice khaki ones, and a wide hat." She surveyed herself in a mirror somewhat complacently.

"I suppose you will wear that rig when you clean the pigsty?" inquired Gerald, with interest.

"I shall superintend the cleaning," she returned airily. "O—o—oh!"

"What's the matter?'"

"We won't have cows, will we? You know they terrify me."

"Of course," said Allan firmly. "Large cows—with spots," he added gravely.

"N—not red ones."

"Certainly, bright red ones."

She sighed heavily. "I suppose I must bear it. Who is going to milk? I warn you every time I set eyes on them I shall run."

"Kath will do the milking," said Gerald.

"Thank you." Katherine was regarding her slender white hands a little ruefully. "My province will be the house. I hope there's a decent stove."

Gerald rose to his feet, his eyes shining. "You three are the rippingest pals a chap could have," he said. "I don't mind telling you that I felt like chucking up the sponge when I heard what Stark said to-day. I hated the thought of going away, and now you all calmly toss everything overboard and come, too. I don't care if my metaphors are mixed. I want you to know I appreciate it."

"Don't worry about that," said Allan calmly. "You're not the reason, merely the excuse. We've been getting into rather a groove lately, and I, for one, have been wondering when something would happen to get us out. It took Val's brain to find the solution."

Valerie's small face grew suddenly grave. "I haven't forgotten how you adopted an orphan who had no relations in the world," she said softly. "Why, I'd go adventuring with you to the world's end."

Katherine slipped an arm about her. "That's a forbidden subject," she said softly. "We owe no gratitude, any of us, because we're one family. Now I can't see how we could have thought of letting Gerald go alone. While we keep together I don't feel as if anything very bad can happen."

"We are four adventurers," supplemented Gerald. "As Allan said, this was the testing time. I know I'm going to get well."