II

Elinor Carlisle entered the grounds of Hunterbury by the back gate.

It was a hot, clear summer’s day. There were sweetpeas in flower. Elinor passed close by a rowof them. The undergardener, Horlick, who was remaining on to keep the place in order, greetedher respectfully.

“Good morning, miss. I got your letter. You’ll find the side door open, miss. I’ve unfastened theshutters and opened most of the windows.”

Elinor said:

“Thank you, Horlick.”

As she moved on, the young man said nervously¹, his Adam’s apple jerking up and down inspasmodic fashion:

“Excuse me, miss—”

Elinor turned back. “Yes?”

“Is it true that the house is sold? I mean, is it really settled?”

“Oh, yes!”

Horlick said nervously:

“I was wondering, miss, if you would say a word for me—to Major Somervell, I mean. He’ll bewanting gardeners. Maybe he’ll think I’m too young for head gardener, but I’ve worked under Mr.

Stephens for four years now, and I reckon I know a tidyish bit, and I’ve kept things going fairlywell since I’ve been here, single-handed.”

Elinor said quickly:

“Of course I will do all I can for you, Horlick. As a matter of fact, I intended to mention you toMajor Somervell and tell him what a good gardener you are.”

Horlick’s face grew dusky red.

“Thank you, miss. That’s very kind of you. You can understand it’s been a bit of a blow, like—Mrs. Welman dying, and then the place being sold off so quick—and I—well, the fact of thematter is I was going to get married this autumn, only one’s got to be sure….”

He stopped.

Elinor said kindly²:

“I hope Major Somervell will take you on. You can rely on me to do all I can.”

Horlick said again:

“Thank you, miss. We all hoped, you see, as how the place would be kept on by the family.

Thank you, miss.”

Elinor walked on.

Suddenly, rushing over her like the stream from a broken dam, a wave of anger, of wildresentment, swept over her.

“We all hoped the place would be kept on by the family….”

She and Roddy could have lived here! She and Roddy… Roddy would have wanted that. It waswhat she herself would have wanted. They had always loved Hunterbury, both of them. DearHunterbury… In the years before her parents had died, when they had been in India, she had comehere for holidays. She had played in the woods, rambled³ by the stream, picked sweetpeas in greatflowering armloads, eaten fat green gooseberries and dark red luscious⁴ raspberries. Later, therehad been apples. There had been places, secret lairs⁵, where she had curled up with a book and readfor hours.

She had loved Hunterbury. Always, at the back of her mind, she had felt sure of living therepermanently some day. Aunt Laura had fostered that idea. Little words and phrases:

“Some day, Elinor, you may like to cut down those yews⁶. They are a little gloomy, perhaps!”

“One might have a water garden here. Some day, perhaps, you will.”

And Roddy? Roddy, too, had looked forward to Hunterbury being his home. It had lain,perhaps, behind his feeling for her, Elinor. He had felt, subconsciously⁷, that it was fitting and rightthat they two should be together at Hunterbury.

And they would have been together there. They would have been together here—now—notpacking up the house for selling, but redecorating it, planning new beauties in house and garden,walking side by side in gentle proprietary⁸ pleasure, happy—yes, happy together—but for the fatalaccident of a girl’s wild-rose beauty….

What did Roddy know of Mary Gerrard? Nothing—less than nothing! What did he care for her—for the real Mary? She had, quite possibly, admirable qualities, but did Roddy know anythingabout them? It was the old story—Nature’s hoary⁹ old joke!

Hadn’t Roddy himself said it was an “enchantment?”

Didn’t Roddy himself—really—want to be free of it?

If Mary Gerrard were to—die, for instance, wouldn’t Roddy some day acknowledge: “It was allfor the best. I see that now. We had nothing in common….”

He would add, perhaps, with gentle melancholy¹⁰:

“She was a lovely creature….”

Let her be that to him—yes—an exquisite¹¹ memory—a thing of beauty and a joy forever….

If anything were to happen to Mary Gerrard, Roddy would come back to her—Elinor… Shewas quite sure of that!

If anything were to happen to Mary Gerrard…

Elinor turned the handle of the side door. She passed from the warm sunlight into the shadow ofthe house. She shivered.

It felt cold in here, dark, sinister… It was as though Something was there, waiting for her, in thehouse….

She walked along the hall and pushed the baize door that led into the butler’s pantry.

It smelt¹² slightly musty. She pushed up the window, opening it wide.

She laid down her parcels—the butter, the loaf, the little glass bottle of milk. She thought:

“Stupid! I meant to get coffee.”

She looked in the canisters on a shelf. There was a little tea in one of them, but no coffee.

She thought: “Oh, well, it doesn’t matter.”

She unwrapped the two glass jars of fish paste.

She stood staring at them for a minute. Then she left the pantry and went upstairs. She wentstraight to Mrs. Welman’s room. She began on the big tallboy, opening drawers, sorting,arranging, folding clothes in little piles….

 

点击收听单词发音