Authors: Susan Barrie
“
I
’
ve already told you more than once not to cross your bridges before you get to them. The unpleasant things do not always happen, you know,
”
she said soothingly, but she felt strongly that in this case they almost certainly would.
Noel looked up at her with feverish, anxious eyes.
“
You heard what she said about school! I don
’
t want to be sent away to school.
”
“
Then we won
’
t let you,
”
Melanie promised rashly.
“
You won
’
t?
”
Noel looked at her eagerly.
“
Oh, Melanie, I do feel so awfully
safe
with you, if you know what I mean? You give me so much more confidence than I
’
ve actually got, and even Uncle Richard listens to you sometimes—that it to say he
would
listen to you almost all the time, only when Miss Gaythorpe
’
s around she influences him. But you
’
ve got a certain amount of influence over him, too—I
’
ve seen that
”
—rather startling Melanie.
“
I
’
ve seen the way he looks at you sometimes, too, and once or twice I
’
v
e thought that—if only he would marry
you
!...”
Melanie placed a hand lather hastily over her forehead to discover whether she was becoming light-headed, but if anything the pale brow was cooler.
“
Don
’
t be silly,
”
Noel rather said petulantly.
“
I
’
m not wandering. I
’
ve discussed the matter with Mrs. Abbie, and both she and Brigid think that
—”
“
Noel!
”
Melanie exclaimed sharply.
“
You mustn
’
t discuss your uncle
’
s private concerns with the domestic staff here. It isn
’
t even loyal.
”
“
But it
’
s interesting to find out what they think,
”
Noel continued imperturbably.
“
And they both thoroughly dislike Sylvia Gaythorpe. I think they
’
d give notice immediately if he ever told them he was going to marry her, and I wouldn
’
t blame them.
I’
d
run away rather than live here with her.
”
“
Running away is not a simple matter,
”
Melanie told her rather wearily, for this was a subject which affected her far more nearly than even Noel could guess, and she was anxious to have it closed.
“
Particularly when you
’
ve nowhere to run to. And if you feel like that it would be better to go away to school, where you
’
d probably have quite a nice time, for expensive finishing schools such as Miss Gaythorpe was discussing are more often than not very pleasant indeed.
”
But this was enough to cause Noel to start protesting almost violently, and fearing a rise of temperature Melanie announced that she was going to give her her sedative and settle her down for the night, and then go downstairs and put through a call to her uncle. And when she was seated at the desk in the library and listening to the voice at the other end of the wire in the St. James
’
s Place flat explaining that Mr. Trenchard was not at home—and that he was not expected back for several hours—she was not surprised.
“
Tell him,
”
she said,
“
that his niece
’
s condition is about the same.
”
The next night the report was not so favorable, for the doctor had been twice during the day, and he confessed to
Melanie that he was not pleased. Noel was on the verge of pneumonia, and her general physical condition was so frail that he was sending a nurse to be with her during the daytime, and another who would replace her at night. He asked if he could put through a call to Mr. Trenchard in the library, and Melanie left him alone with the instrument while he did so.
Whether he spoke to her employer or not she was not to learn, but he said,
“
I
’
m getting a specialist from London to have a look at Miss Trenchard. I don
’
t think we should take any chances.
”
And Melanie thought that sounded ominous.
That night—somewhere between midnight and the small hours—Melanie was roused from sleep by the uniformed nurse, who apologized for waking her but explained that Noel was very restless, and that she kept calling continually for Melanie.
“
If you would just sit beside her and let her know that you are there I think it might help to calm her,
”
the nurse said.
Melanie scrambled into her dressing-gown immediately, and went along to Noel
’
s room. Her heart turned over at the sight of the wild, glazed eyes on the pillow, and the painted cheeks. Noel knew her, however, as soon as she entered the room, and her fiercely hot hand reached out to clasp Melanie
’
s passionately.
“
I thought perhaps they might have sent you away,
”
she whispered hoarsely and then was forced to relinquish her clutch through sheer weakness, but Melanie held her hand closely and tenderly within her own. She smoothed the tumbled gold hair back from the white brow and assured her that under no circumstances would she leave her, and asked her to try and sleep because she was sure she was drowsy, and Noel blinked at her like a very tired baby and obediently closed her eyes.
For the rest of that night Noel slumbered fitfully, and Melanie sat beside her. The nurse offered to relieve her after a while, but Melanie shook her head. Noel
’
s fingers were lightly clasping her own, and she felt that the smallest movement might cause her to wake. But
after a time the circulation ceased in her arm, and she could have cried aloud with the pain of it, and her eyes were so heavy that she could have dropped asleep at her post. But she did not do so. So many people had failed Noel in the past that, whatever happened, she, Melanie, must not fail her now, and the thought became an obsession. And with the dawn light Noel sank into a much more restful sleep, and presently the nurse stole across the room to the bed with a cup of strong, hot, refreshing tea, and Melanie drank it while the uniformed figure retained possession of the saucer, and Noel
’
s hand dropped lightly out of her cramped fingers.
Melanie stood up, looking and feeling almost too dazed with tiredness to know where she was, and the nurse whispered to her that she must go straight to bed. The patient would scarcely be likely to stir now for a while, at least. And Melanie stole along the corridors to her room and dragged herself over to her window.
In the still, bleak, wintry light she could see that the snow was now fast disappear
in
g, and there was slush on the terrace where her employer had stood watching the moon a few nights before Christmas. The whole garden seemed to have turned in a few hours into a sea of grey, disfiguring mud, and the dark outlines of the laurels and the bushes which bordered the drive were dripping with moisture. The fairytale world had vanished, and in its place was an infinitely depressing greyness which was exactly in tune with Melanie
’
s own feeling at that moment.
She thought of the night when she and Richard Trenchard had walked up the drive together, she clinging closely to his arm, and remembered the strange feeling of excitement which had coursed through her veins because his smile had been so peculiarly friendly, and his voice, too. And she recalled how quickly she had been brought down to earth when he had shut himself in his library with Baxter, and left her feeling like a pricked balloon. What she had expected she did not quite know, but it had not been that abrupt dismissal, any more than she had expected him to turn on her and openly support Miss Gaythorpe that night that Sylvia
’
s whim was for skating on the ice. The ice which was now no more!
She looked towards the grey, shadowy outline of the lake and thought how unbeautiful it appeared now. Sylvia would have found the country even more depressing this morning!
Sylvia loved comfort, and brightness, and luxury around her, and she was probably one of those fortunate human beings whom the Fates love and who would have her happiness handed out to her on a platter. Always!
...
Success, admiration, adulation, applause, and one man with eyes like grey smoke behind a screen of thick feminine eyelashes to look on and applaud her more than most!
Melanie leaned her head wearily against the cool glass of the window and wished that she could summon up the effort to get herself back to bed. She was so tired—so utterly, physically weary—and confusing thoughts were passing through her brain. Thank goodness Noel seemed to be a little bit better!
...
That seemed to be a car light shining down there by the lodge gates, glimmering like
a pale tulip in the early light. And a moment later she could almost have sworn that the grey shape of a car slid up the drive
...
But her eyes were playing her tricks. She could no longer even think coherently, and she staggered across the room, threw off her dressing-gown and tumbled into bed.
Mrs. Abbie was there with a tray of tea when she wakened. Mrs. Abbie had been moving softly about the room before she opened her eyes, tidying it for one who was now a great favorite, turning on the electric fire so that a pleasant glow shone upon the furniture and mingled with the last rays of daylight coming in at the window.
Melanie struggled up on to her elbow.
“
Noel?
”
she inquired.
“
How is she?
”
“
The nurse says she seems to be much better,
”
Mrs. Abbie answered a trifl
e
abstractedly. She added:
“
I
’
ll go and turn on a bath for you, and I
’
ll bring tea to you in the library when you
’
re downstairs. I thought you
’
d like a cup up here first to wake you up.
”
Melanie almost leapt out of bed when she realized how late it was.
“
I must have slept the whole day,
”
she said.
“
And I
’
d better go and see Noel.
”
“
The nurse says there
’
s no need for you to go anywhere near Miss Noel until you
’
ve had a proper rest yourself,
”
Mrs. Abbie surprised her by stating firmly.
“
You can go and look at her before dinner, but she
’
s probably sleeping now, and it won
’
t do to have her disturbed.
”
“
Oh, very well,
”
Melanie said, looking at her with uplifted eyebrows, and decided that perhaps those were the nurse
’
s instructions.
When she went down to the library she was wearing a dark green woollen dress with an ivory collar and cuffs. The fire was burning brightly in the hall, which surprised her a little, for the fire in the hall had not been maintained after the departure of the master of the house and his guests. And the leaping tongues of firelight discovered the chestnut gleams in her hair.
When she opened the library door she saw at once that a magnificent fire had been built up there, too, and Peter
no doubt wondering what had become of his mistress
—
was lying in front of it on the rug and drowsily blinking his eyes. He thumped his tail when Melanie entered but did not get up to greet her. His great paws were resting on a pair of well-shod feet which, in the absence of any other form of illumination in the room, seemed to be protruding out of nothingness, as if unattached to a body, from the shadowy spot where a deep leather armchair always stood. It was Richard Trenchard
’
s chair, and although Melanie did not know it, Richard Trenchard himself was lying comfortably there and not even smoking a cigarette.
“
Don
’
t put the light on,
”
he requested her quietly, as her hand went to the switch.
“
It
’
s so much more cosy in the fireglow, and Mrs. Abbie will be bringing the tea in a minute.
”
Melanie stood quite still and stared towards the corner where his chair stood. She remembered the light down at the lodge gates in the early morning—her impression that a grey car had slid up the drive. And suddenly she felt wholeheartedly thankful.
She said with a little tremor in her voice,
“
Oh, I
’
m so glad you
’
re here!
”