The Heather-Moon
"You're not going to fail me, are you?" she exclaimed. Her impulse was
to add shrilly, "Now that you've made your own market, and don't care a
rap what happens to any one else!" As she was Mrs. Bal's guest still,
and had been royally entertained, she sacrificed the momentary
satisfaction. Besides, this was the last moment in which it would be
safe to offend Mrs. Bal.
"Fail you? Of course not," said Barbara. "But what more can I do? I've
written and wired Barrie. We both arranged, first for the Vannecks to
stay longer, and then for them to go suddenly--or at least to say they
were going. We've done so _many_ things, I'm quite confused. And I
should have _loved_ Barrie to fall in love with your brother, who's
perfectly charming and so _sensible_ about everything. But you see, I
can't force the girl. And Somerled's on the spot. What do you _want_ me
to do that I haven't done?"
"I don't want you to do anything," Aline answered, struggling to keep
her head, "except to stand by me--and Basil. I do care for Ian. I've
confessed everything to you, and your not being certain about Mr.
Bennett made you so sweet and sympathetic, it was really a comfort. But
I've got my brother as well as myself to fight for. One never can be
sure what he'll do for himself, he's so modest, and always lets other
men get ahead. If you'll stick to us, I'll start off by the first train.
I fancy I'll have to go to Oban or somewhere, and hire a motor. Basil
has written about ferries there are to cross. It will be terrible,
alone. But if you'll stick to me----"
"Stick to you?" repeated Barbara, hoping that Aline did not mean to put
her to too much trouble. She was a little--just a little--tired of dear
Aline. It had been useful and pleasant to have her, during this time of
uncertainty concerning Morgan Bennett: a nice woman to go about with;
pretty, but not too pretty; young, yet not too young; celebrated, yet
not as celebrated or popular as herself; but now it was all settled
about Morgan; and Aline had been a tiny bit plaintive, which was boring.
Also it was boring to see how stodgily George Vanneck was in love with
Mrs. West, without shadow of turning, although Barbara had tried her
hand, just for fun, at tempting him to turn. Even a worm would; but
George Vanneck wouldn't, which made him seem so slow! And Mrs. West was
a woman with only two smiles, and no real sense of humour.
"All I mean is," Aline explained, uneasily feeling that she had lost her
power, "will you send me as your representative to Barrie? I _can't_ let
Ian think I have come because of him. But you are acting, and can't
possibly get away, so--as we're friends now, it would seem only natural
for me to go in your place."
"What will you do when you get to Ballachulish?"
"I'll give Barrie several reasons for marrying my brother, and if you'll
let me speak for you as well as for him and myself, I'm almost sure I
can--can save her from Somerled."
At this Barbara frankly laughed, the way of putting it seemed so quaint;
and as for herself, she was feeling extraordinarily happy. She had got
what she wanted from life. She had got Morgan Bennett. And at the end of
the week he was going to America for a month, which was nice, because
while feeling perfectly safe about the future, she would be able to have
a little rest cure, without bothering to be agreeable to him. He was
fascinating, but strenuous. And if she need not have Barrie staying with
her after all, she could accept a charming invitation for Sunday and
part of Monday in the adorable Trossachs. It was the Duchess of Dalmelly
who had asked her, and she had thought she must refuse because Barrie
was due in Glasgow on Saturday evening. She had not felt like putting
off the child again, as Morgan would be gone; yet the Duchess did not
know that Barrie existed, and Barbara didn't want her to know. Why not
let things arrange themselves, and Barrie go to Dunelin Castle with the
MacDonalds? The Duchess was said to have wonderful house-parties, and
the Duke's place near Callander was famous. Barbara had never been
invited before and would like to go, especially as the fiancee of a
millionaire. It would give her new importance.
"Oh, well, you must do as you like," she said easily to Aline, "but
don't fuss _too_ much. What is to be, will be, you know."
"Yes, I know," Aline answered dryly. "And now I'll look up trains."
III
Aline induced Mrs. Bal to telegraph Barrie, "Await my messenger";
nevertheless the girl was greatly surprised to see Mrs. West. She had
vaguely thought that Barbara might send one of the red-headed maids, to
take her back to Glasgow.
Of course Basil must have known, but he had not told. Since Somerled and
the MacDonalds came, he had kept to himself with his writing as an
excuse. Now Barrie realized that certainly he had been expecting his
sister; yet he had not gone to meet her with his car. Perhaps there had
not been time: or perhaps he had an inspiration, and could not tear
himself from work, even for a few hours.
When Aline arrived at Ballachulish, Barrie and Somerled and Margaret
MacDonald were walking together by the side of fair Loch Leven. Barrie
wore a white dress and no hat. The late afternoon sun was dazzling on
her hair, and as Somerled looked at her, across Miss MacDonald (it was
like Margaret to walk between them), there was an expression on his face
which made Aline feel capable of desperate things. A child like Barrie
to win him away from her so easily! There was something wrong about the
world. Aline yearned to right it, and live happily ever after. She had
travelled all night by train, and had been hours in a motor-car, never
once noticing the scenery; and instead of being enchanted with Connel
Ferry had regarded the crossing as a vexatious delay. Some of the most
beautiful scenes in Scotland had passed before her eyes between Oban and
Ballachulish; but if she thought of such things at all, she thought that
even a romantic writer couldn't be expected to notice irrelevant trifles
like nature, when bound up heart and soul in her own private romance.
Somerled wondered how he could possibly have found her face interesting.
He did not know which of her two smiles had less genuine human nature in
it, the sad one or the gay one. And he wondered for the first time if
Basil didn't write the best part of their books.
"I've come in a great hurry on an important mission from Mrs. Ballantree
MacDonald to Barrie," she explained to Somerled rather than to the girl,
as she got stiffly out of the motor-car. She was almost pathetically
anxious not to produce the impression that this frantic journey had been
undertaken on Ian's account. If she failed, she would put George Vanneck
out of his long misery by marrying him. She would even say that they had
been secretly engaged for some time. Anything rather than Somerled
should suspect the truth. But she was going to try hard not to fail.
"I'll see Basil presently," she said when Barrie asked if they oughtn't
to let him know. It occurred to Somerled that Aline did not want to meet
her brother before strangers. "Let me just get rid of this hired
motor-car--and then I must fulfil my mission before doing anything else.
Basil and I will have plenty of time together. I've finished my visit to
Mrs. Bal. Dear child, may I have a little talk with you in your own
room, and give you your Barbara's message?"
Barrie was eager, yet frightened. She could hardly wait to hear what was
her mother's verdict on the Plan; but it seemed ominous that she was to
learn it through Aline. Nothing good had come to her so far through Mrs.
West.
Barrie's room was small, and looked over a dovecote. The doves were
mourning a good deal more than was reasonable considering that their
griefs must have happened generations ago. Their continuous cooing
rasped Aline's nerves. How would it be best to begin? She had planned it
out a dozen times in the train, and a dozen times more in the car: but a
few doves and a disturbance in an unseen family of chickens were enough
to put everything out of her head. Suddenly she began to cry. That was
not a part of her design; but no inspiration could have been more
useful. The pretty, serene mask of her smooth face wrinkled up
pitifully, and made her seem real and human. Barrie's heart warmed to
her for the first time.
"Oh, Mrs. West, what is it?" she exclaimed. "Nothing has happened to
moth--to Barbara?"
Nothing that happened to any one except herself could have drawn tears
from Aline West, but Barrie did not know that.
"I am so--horribly unhappy!" wailed Aline, hiding her distorted face in
her hands. There was no time to fumble for a handkerchief.
"Is there anything I can do?" Barrie asked.
"There is--everything!" Aline choked. She began to realize from the
girl's agitated voice that the accident of her own tears had been
providential. "But you won't do it when you know."
"I will, indeed--if I can," Barrie warmly protested.
"You have taken Ian away from me," Aline sobbed. "He was mine till you
came. I worshipped him, and he loved me. He loves me still, but we
quarrelled--about you. I was jealous--I confess. You are so young.
I'm--thirty. He said he cared nothing for you in that way--that you were
only a child; but he'd promised you to take you to Edinburgh and be a
sort of guardian, and nothing would induce him to break his word. I was
foolish--I tried to make it a test with him. I said if he loved me he
would tell you he'd changed his mind, that he couldn't take you. But he
wouldn't be persuaded, and so we quarrelled. Everything has been wrong
between us since. He is so proud and hard! And my heart is breaking."
"I am sorry--very sorry," Barrie answered in a queer, level voice,
without any expression in it. "Did you come here to tell me this?"
"No, oh, no," Aline said quickly. "I came from your mother. I was to
tell you that she's going to marry Mr. Bennett, and that she hopes still
that you may make up your mind to accept my brother who loves you so
much, before Mr. Bennett comes back from America. He's going in a day or
two--for a few weeks. You know, it is so awkward for Barbara. If he
should find out that--little secret she's kept from him! He's rather a
strange man. He can be hard. She's afraid of him. She couldn't come to
you herself, and she dares not have you back because Mr. Bennett is
still there, and if he sees you--but you understand, don't you? I
offered to come. We are great friends, she and I. But--I wanted to come
for myself too. Ian is so terribly obstinate. He made up his mind that
you needed his help, and that he'd stand by you whatever happened. It is
his boast that he's never broken his word, nor failed any one. Even his
love for me wouldn't make him give up--and he won't give you up while he
thinks you are alone and needing a friend. See what he has done for you!
He has gone and fetched these MacDonalds. I knew something had happened
because his chauffeur was wired for, to meet him somewhere, but it was a
blow to hear from Barbara that he'd followed you. She showed me your
telegram. I almost lost hope then, that anything could ever come right
between Ian and me. But when she asked me to see you, I thought--it
seemed just possible, if I could make you understand----"
"Please tell me," Barrie said, still in that strange, dry voice, unlike
hers, and very old sounding for a young girl, "please tell me exactly
what you thought I might do--when you'd made me understand?"
"I thought you might feel that the only way to free Ian Somerled from
his supposed duty would be to marry some one else quickly. You know he
blames Barbara; but if you had a husband, you wouldn't need a guardian
any more. Then, if I asked him to forgive me--and I would ask him, for