Then She Fled Me (37 page)

“
You
’
ll not enslave me to your idol, Sarah,
”
he said with a faint smile.
“
And I would prefer that when you come to me, you come with a whole heart.
”

Her face looked pinched and white.

“
You mean you won
’
t marry me unless I sell Dun Rury?
”

“
Oh, no, I didn
’
t say that. I
’
m quite prepared to marry you and take you away if you
’
ll come. I can
’
t force you to sell what is yours.
”

“
You
’
re forcing me to choose between you and Dun Rury.
”

“
I don
’
t think so, Sarah. You can keep your heritage if you want to. You could always let it, I suppose.
”

“
Let Dun Rury!
”

“
Well, what
’
s the alternative?
”

“
To live there ourselves.
”

His eyes were steady on her face.

“
Would you respect me if I agreed?
”

She cried, passionately:
“
I
’
d love you for it. What does respect matter?
”

“
Oh, it matters a lot,
”
he replied equably.
“
Without respect a marriage is built on very shifting soil, I think.
”

“
Y
o
u
’
re hard, Adrian.
”

“
I
’
m not hard, darling. Only older and wiser than you
are.
”

“
There
’
s a third alternative,
”
she said slowly.
“
Not to marry you at all.
”

His eyebrows rose.

“
Wouldn
’
t that be rather like cutting off your nose to spite your face? You do want to marry me, don
’t
you?
”

“
You know I do, only
—”

He smiled.

“
Only like most children you want to have your cake and eat it. Well, I can
’
t help you any more, I
’
m afraid. You have your t
h
ree alternatives. The decision must be yours.
”

No, she thought, he was not like Joe. He would never try to plead with her.

She automatically crossed the water with her finger and made her routine wish, then, without looking at him again, she began to run down the mountain
p
ath.

For the rest of the day she avoided him and he did not try to force any confidence. He knew she called a family conference that evening which also included Nonie, but she did not invite him to be present and he remained upstairs in the nursery.

But if Sarah expected help from her family she got little enough to guide her to a decision. Aunt Em said apologetically that the place did not suit her rheumatism and that she would really prefer to live in a town where she could
get to the shops; Danny
’
s opinion was that he would like to go to a decent school when he was old enough; and Kathy, had she been present, would not have cared either way now that her own future was settled.

“
Nonie
”
—Sarah turned rather wearily to the old servant—
“
you
’
ve seen us all bo
rn
here—you love the place as I do. Can
’
t you help me?
”

Nonie looked at her with understanding.

“
An
’
would you take advice, Miss Sarah, an
’
it handed to you on a golden platter?
”
she said.
“
Sure, you just want wan of us to tell you keep the place an
’
your mind would be made up.
”

“
I
’
ve always said I
’
d never sell,
”
she said slowly.
“
All this time I
’
ve hung on, and now, when the money is a little
easier, it
seems madness.
”

“
I think,
”
Aunt Em said with unexpected firmness,
“
we have all discussed the subject enough. Whatever you do decide, Sarah dear, we
’
ll stand by you. After all, I
’
m your aunt, too, and Kathy and Joe can do without me until you marry yourself.
”

“
Me, too,
”
said Danny, not quite clear as to what
all the argument was about.

“
Till I
mar
ry
...
”
said Sarah bleakly, and Nonie shook her head.

“
Och, that
’
s the sore spot,
”
she said.
“
Didn
’
t I tell you, Miss Sarah, the sort of felly you
’
d pick would have a mind of his own? Now get along with you to bed for chatter, never solved annything.
”

No, thought Sarah, climbing wearily into bed, it was no use talking, it only made your head ache. She lay in the darkness and thought about Adrian, remembering the touch of his hands, the hard pressure of his lips, and she remembered the things he had said to her the first time she ever took him to St. Patrick
’
s Well. As long ago as that he had told her that her love for Dun Rury, when it was confused with the love for her father, was dangerous. Had she transferred both these loves to him, she wondered, and in seeking to keep the house was she denying him that whole heart he asked for? To give him up was unthinkable, but to compromise and keep both him and Dun Rury and all it stood for seemed, at least to her, insulting to him
...

“
St. Patrick send me a sign
...”
she murmured sleepily as she turned her face into the pillow and her tired eyelids closed.

The next day was wet and she came to the nursery and asked to hear some of the new records. Adrian sat by the fire reading in desultory fashion while she made her own selections and put the records on herself., Now it was Bach, now Delius,
and now it was his own recording of the Litolff
Concerto Symphonique.
She seemed to like it for she played it twice and the gay, lively scherzo sent him back to the Albert Hall concert. He had played that and the Grieg, he remembered, and afterwards had come that collision in the fog and the weary months of nursing homes and treatment when the scherzo had run through and through his head with the maddening persistence of a metronome.

“
You don
’
t like it?
”
she said as she put the record back in its folder.

“
It
’
s a charming piece, but it has unpleasant associations for me,
”
he replied.
‘
It haunted me in nursing homes until I could have screamed.
”

“
Did you play it at that last concert?
”

“
Yes. That
’
s probably why I dislike it.
”

She shut the gramophone and came and sat down by the fire.

“
It
’
s queer, isn
’
t it, how things can get mixed up?
I
suppose for you that piece of music became a sort of symbol.
”

“
I suppose it did. What conclusion are you trying to draw from that, Sarah?
”

“
I don
’
t quite know. Only, perhaps, that everyone has a kind of touchstone, whether it
’
s good or bad.
”

He smiled.

“
No doubt we hark back to our superstitious ancestors. Be warned, my child, don
’
t let fallacy get a hold of you.
”

“
Fallacy
...
that means misconception, doesn
’
t it?
”

“
Misconception, error, delusion, superstition—any of these things.
”

“
Delusion
...”
she said, savoring the word.
”
Delusion is empty, isn
’
t it? It doesn
’
t mean anything?
”

“
No,
”
he said gravely,
“
it doesn
’
t mean anything.
”

There was a sudden clatter of hooves from the stable yard, then Nolan
’
s voice shouted under the window:
“
Miss
Sarah! Will you come down, plaze? The ass has broke loose again.
”

“
Och, that Cosgrave!
”
she exclaimed, jumping to her feet.
“
If he
’
s in he
’
s out, and if he
’
s out he
’
s in!
”
She ran out of the room, and from the window Adrian watched her snatch a halter from Nolan
’
s hand and run across the lawn in the rain, leaping the ha-ha as a short cut to the road. The donkey had not gone far this time, and she fou
n
d him grazing at the edge of the lough. She cursed him softly while she slipped the halter over his head, then jumped on his back and cantered home along the road. The rain was falling in slanting spears—clean spring rain which stung her face to life. As she approached the gates she slowed the donkey to a walk and beheld her home for the first time with a stranger
’
s eyes. There lay Dun Rury, that symbol of her delusion, grey, neglected, a hoary god awaiting sacrifice, and as she gazed her spirit was released.

“
Not any more,
”
she said aloud.
“
I will always love you because you are my home, but for that other I
’
ve paid my last toll.
”
She lifted her face to the rain and began to sing:

“
‘
As I walked down through Dublin City
...’
”

Adrian heard her from the nursery and looked up quickly. There she came
riding up the drive, twirling the end of the halter rope, and kicking her heels against the
donkey
’
s
flanks
in time to the song.

“
I
’
m going to St. Patrick
’
s Well,
”
she called up, when he appeared at the window.

“
My dear child, do you never eat? It
’
s long past lunchtime,
”
he said.

“
Is it? I
’
m not hungry. I
’
m going to the well. Will you come and meet me, later?
”

“
Very well, you lunatic. Here—wait a minute!
”
He tossed down a couple of apples to her and she caught them neatly and ran away.

He took the car later in the afternoon and drove along the
south road to Paddy-the-Sheep
’
s shanty. Did she think, he wondered with tender amusement, that she would get round him more easily at the place where wishes were said to come true? As he started up the steep path the sun came out and he saw how the raindrops caught on the mountain-side trembled and shone like myriads of crystals. He began to call Sarah
’
s name and presently there was an answering shout
and she came running round the shoulder of the hill, her black hair flying. For a moment she paused, looking down
a
t him, her hands outstretched, and she had for him in that
moment
a fleeting impression of pure beauty; then she came running down the mountain path and straight into his arms. She was released and happy, and as he felt her eager arms go round his neck, he said: