Читать книгу Inspector Furnival's Cases - Annie Haynes - Страница 25

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"I thought was never going to see you again, Peggy."

"Did you?" The girl was walking with a slow listless step through the Home Wood.

Peggy had altered curiously of late, her spirits had become capricious and variable, she was noticeably thinner and paler. She flushed hotly now as she heard Stephen Crasster's voice behind her. Since the day when Chesterham had so rudely torn the veil from her eyes, she had avoided her old friend as much as possible. To-day, for the first time, she found herself alone with him.

"And it seems to me that our lunch at Talgarth is never coming off," Stephen went on lightly. "You are always engaged."

"Yes." Peggy's voice sounded muffled as she turned her face away. "Yes, it is very unfortunate. I was very much disappointed. It is so kind of you to ask me."

"Kind to myself," Crasster smiled. "You might take pity on my loneliness, Peggy; more particularly as my time for giving invitations to Talgarth is getting short."

"What do you mean?" Peggy turned a startled face upon him.

Stephen did not answer for a moment.

"The Annesley Wards have always had a fancy for Talgarth," he said slowly at last. "I am going to let it to them, with the option of buying it at the end of the year."

"You are going to let Talgarth?" Peggy repeated in tones of consternation. "Oh, Stephen, we thought you had come to settle down among us."

"So did I at first," Stephen assented. "But I am beginning to fancy I am a bit of a rolling stone, Peggy. And, in any case, if I went on with my profession I shouldn't have much time for Talgarth. It is no use keeping on a big house like that for one man."

"It isn't so very big," Peggy said wistfully. "And why do you say 'if I went on with my profession,' Stephen?"

"Why, because—" Crasster hesitated a moment and bit his lip. "The fact is that since I have come into money, as the country folk say, I suppose I am getting lazy. I feel I should like to see rather more of the world. There is an expedition starting for Central Africa in a couple of months' time, and I have a chance of going with it, if I like."

"But you wouldn't, Stephen." Peggy exclaimed in startled tones.

"I think I must, Peggy."

The girl winked back her rising tears. "I don't see why."

Stephen glanced at her half-averted cheek, at the long upcurled lashes, at the mouth that trembled as she spoke. It took all his manhood's strength of will to restrain the words that would have torn the last vestige of doubt from Peggy's mind, to keep up the light jesting tone that had become habitual to him of late when he was speaking to Peggy.

"I think everything is changing," the girl went on, her voice quivering. "And I—I like things to stop always the same."

Stephen's smile held more of sadness than of mirth. "Change is the law of this world, little Peggy. Haven't you learnt that, child?"

There was silence for a minute, broken by a hoarse sob in Peggy's throat.

"I ought to have," she flashed out suddenly. "Anthony has changed, so has Judith. I should not know either of them now, and you have altered, and—and Lorrimer." She dropped her voice as she spoke her lover's name.

"Surely he has not changed!" Stephen was half laughing as he spoke, but his eyes showed a keen anxiety. "Or, if so, it is only for the better!" he concluded jestingly.

Peggy did not look round, she shivered a little.

"Oh, he is only like everybody else. I suppose you will tell me I must get used to it."

"I, at least, shall never change in one way," Stephen said gravely. "I shall always be your friend, Peggy."

"Oh, you say so now," the girl answered pettishly, still keeping her face turned away. "But a friend isn't much good to one, if he is at the other end of the world."

"I would come from the other end of the world to serve you," Stephen declared hoarsely. "You know that. Don't make it too hard for me."

"I should like to make things so hard for you that you couldn't go at all," Peggy retorted with some of her old spirit. "Tell the Annesley Wards they can't have Talgarth; keep it for yourself!"

"I can't, Peggy. Don't ask me."

Peggy took one swift glance at his face, then looked away, her own cheeks paling. But she did not speak, and they walked on in silence, past the Heron's moat, with its giant bulrushes, and its glory of golden kingcups, to the Dower House.

The Dowager Lady Carew was sitting out on the lawn. At sight of the two figures beside her, Peggy's face altered curiously, her footsteps faltered, she glanced behind as though she would willingly have turned back. But it was too late; already she had been seen, and Chesterham was coming to meet them.

"I didn't expect you to-day," Peggy said as he greeted them. "I thought you were in London."

"Did you? That isn't a very warm greeting, Peggy. I found my business could wait awhile," Chesterham said carelessly, as he took possession of her, and he and Crasster exchanged a curt nod. "Your brother and I have been having a business talk, and now Lady Carew has asked me to stay to lunch."

They all walked back together to the weeping willow, where the Dowager Lady Carew had established herself, her stepson beside her. He looked up as they approached.

"What is this I hear about your letting Talgarth, Crasster?"

"I don't know what you may have heard," Stephen laughed. "But I am going to let it to the Annesley Wards."

Sir Anthony looked at him. "I thought you had come here to be near your friends. We looked upon you as a permanent neighbour."

"You are very kind, all of you," Stephen responded, speaking with apparent carelessness. "But I find that I am lost without my work, and it is better to wear out than rust out, Anthony. However, it is possible there may be a hitch yet; the Wards may draw back."

"I hope they will," Sir Anthony said heartily. "We can't afford to spare you, Stephen, things have gone crookedly enough of late, goodness knows, without that." His eyes went across to his future brother-in-law, who was standing by Peggy's side a few paces away.

Sir Anthony frowned as he noticed the girl's freshness and innocence, the man's coarseness, his marks of evil living.

"Chesterham," he called out suddenly, "I hope it isn't true you have given the Westerburys notice to leave the Home Farm, and that you are letting it to Hiram Lee."

"Oh, yes." Chesterham affected to laugh, though there was a gleam in his eye that betokened anything but amusement. "I may put Hiram Lee in to manage it. I think I shall until I see how things turn out. Hiram has come into some money from a distant relative lately; he has turned over a new leaf."

"He has need," Sir Anthony said significantly. "They are a bad lot, those Lees, Chesterham. I am sorry to hear they are favourites of yours."

Chesterham darted a swift look at him, frowning the while. "I don't know that they can be called exactly favourites of mine," he said shortly, "but I don't forget old friends. And I used to spend a good deal of my time here when I was a child, Sir Anthony, a fact that has probably escaped your memory."

"No, I remember you well enough," Sir Anthony contradicted. "But I don't know where the Lees came in."

"You wouldn't," Chesterham said gently, "but I had rather a bad time of it at Chesterham in those days. I was only a bit of a boy, you know," he continued in his slow drawling tones, "and my grandmother was dead, so my grandfather turned me more or less over to the servants' care. My happiest days were spent at the Lees' cottage, playing with old Betty's grandson, Ronald. Hiram, he was a stripling then, was very good to both of us, to me and the boy Ronald. Even if the Lees have managed to fall into disrepute with the good folk of the neighbourhood, I can't quite forget them. You wouldn't wish me to, would you, Peggy?" raising his voice as his fiancée sprang from her seat on the table and came towards them.

"Wouldn't wish you to forget the Lees?" Peggy repeated doubtfully. "N—o, I suppose not. Not if they were really good to you, Lorrimer. But I don't like them. That old Betty Lee always frightens me, I shouldn't care to see much of her myself. She looks a dreadful old woman, I think. But don't let us talk of her or any more of the Lees; I want some tennis, Stephen, and I will take you and Lorrimer, Anthony."

"It is much too hot to play," Sir Anthony grumbled.

But as usual Peggy had her way. She had the first service. As Stephen stood opposite to Chesterham, and the latter raised his arm to take the ball, Stephen for the first time caught sight of the Chesterham star just above the wrist. It was, as Lennox had said, almost identical with the mark which Crasster himself had seen in the very same place on the arm of the man who died in the flat.