'If I didn't know that Gwen despises that sort of thing,' he went on in
dissatisfied tones, 'I should say she had rouged this evening. Her way
of showing fatigue, I presume; though, of course, neither of you have
the common-sense to confess you are tired. Women are all ascetics at
heart; at least they believe in the virtue of martyrdom. They have
different ways of showing it, that's all. Gwen spends her fatigue in
dress-making and conversation to please, and you, I'll go bail, haven't
even a proper bandage on that scorched arm----'
'Mr. Gordon!'
'Yes! I saw you imagined I was blind--suppose we say like to imagine
it; but I really had my eye-glass, Miss Tweedie. Besides, it doesn't
require microscopic sight to see some things.'
'What a profound remark!' interrupted Rose, to hide her pleased
surprise at his unusual consideration. At the same moment Gwen's gay
laugh rang out, soft yet clear. Either the sound or the speech annoyed
the hearer on the balustrade, for he frowned as he slipped his dangling
feet to the floor.
'As profound as I can make it this evening, for I'm not ashamed to
confess myself dog-tired. Couldn't tell a crow from a pigeon; so I
shall be off. Good-night, Miss Tweedie, I wish you would persuade Gwen
to go to bed. It is easier to give good advice than to take it.'
Rose remained looking at the twinkling lights, and wondering if Lewis
were really jealous of his cousin, till seeing the others go back to
the central summer-house she followed suit.
'Tired!' echoed Gwen sharply, in reply to her information that Lewis
Gordon had stolen away. 'Are we not all tired? I feel as if I had been
up since the beginning of time seeking for something I could not find.
My bed, perhaps. Good-night, Rose.'
They were an odd couple, as they bent to kiss each other in that
mirrored room, where the oddness was reflected again and again in the
myriad scraps of looking-glass on the walls. Each curved fragment
giving and taking an eternity of Gwen's and Rose's bending to kiss each
other.
'I am tired of it all, I will go to sleep;
When morning comes I will seek for something,
_Over hill and dale, through night and day, I must seek for
something_.'
The remembrance evoked by Gwen's chance words sent a little shiver
through the girl; and with it came a sudden pulse of sympathy for the
woman who, now that she saw her close, did indeed look haggard and
worn.
'No wonder you are tired,' she said gently. 'Even I feel as if I could
sleep for days.'
'But you are coming to hawk surely,' broke in George. 'Do, please! it
won't be any fun without you.'
'Not a bit,' assented Dan. 'Gordon ordered your horse, I know, and told
them to take you your tea at five punctually.'
'You must go, Rose,' put in Gwen with a shrug of her white shoulders.
'Diana _Chasseresse_ mustn't disappoint her votaries. I'm glad my habit
was burnt.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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