Beyond The Blue Mountains - Plaidy Jean (читать книги бесплатно полностью без регистрации сокращений .txt) 📗

He stroked Katharine’s shoulders and stooped and kissed them; he murmured again and again that she was beautiful and that he had forgotten how beautiful; and neither of them gave a thought to old Margery standing there, watching them with glistening eyes.

The door opened and Carolan came in. her eyes flashing fire, but behind the fire was fear for this daughter whom she loved better than anything in the world.

“Katharine!” she said, and Katharine swung round, all defiance, ready for the fight.

“It is time you and Henry met. Mamma.”

“Henry?” said Carolan coldly.

Henry bowed.

Ah I thought Margery. He’s not got the manners of the gentleman in the blue satin coat, but he’s got some sort of charm, and you can see with half an eye where he gets that!

“Henry Jedborough,” said Katharine, in a dignified manner.

“We are going to be married.”

Carolan turned pale.

She said: This is rather sudden, is it not?” And her eyes, as they rested on the young man, were like cold green emeralds.

“No,” said Henry, jauntily.

“Katharine and I arranged it some time ago. We are tired of waiting.”

“Yes, Mamma,” said Katharine, ‘that is right.”

“I do not recollect your having asked my permission to propose marriage to my daughter, sir. But perhaps you have spoken to her father?”

“No!” he said, hating her because he knew she meant “Who is this crude unmannerly creature who ignores all the rules laid down by decent society?”

“We thought.” he added, ‘that it was a matter for us to decide.”

I know why she hates him so, thought Margery. In this light, where you can’t notice the difference so much, he’s the living image of his father.

“Katharine,” said Carolan, ignoring him. ‘it was very ill-mannered of you to leave your guests. Go back at once)’ “Mamma!”

“Go back at once!”

“Mamma, please understand …”

“My dear child, this is not the time to conduct a ridiculous scene. Mr. … Mr. … your friend can call upon your father tomorrow. I must really ask him to go now.” Henry bowed. He had his dignity. He said: “Goodbye, my darling.” And then, defiantly: “I shall see you tomorrow.” And there in front of Carolan and Margery he took her into his arms and kissed her several times right on the mouth. She was quivering with desire for him in spite of the scene that had just taken place, in spite of the spectators. That was how it was when you were young, thought Margery. Love swamped everything; when young lovers kissed, they forgot everyone else. Ah! That was how it was when you were young.

He said: “Darling, promise me. Don’t let them…”

“No, no, no!” she cried.

They will try …”

They will not succeed.”

“Remember… the station … the two of us … beyond the Blue Mountains.”

The two of us,” she said, ‘darling, beyond the Blue Mountains.”

He kissed her hands he could not tear himself away.

Carolan was stamping her foot in fury.

When he had gone she looked coldly at her daughter.

“Go upstairs at once,” she said.

“People are wondering what has happened to you. I am ashamed …”

Katharine was ready to obey. She loved her mother very dearly, for indeed they were much alike, those two, and they had been very close until this Henry came. She went slowly back to the music and the guests, but she had a remote look in her eyes for her thoughts were with Henry galloping home under the stars.

Carolan turned on Margery.

“You arranged that meeting, did you? Did you?”

“Now, now,” said Margery.

“What’s all the excitement? If a young gent comes knocking on my door and asks for Miss Katharine, what should I do but ask him in?” Carolan, as always, was indiscreet when angry.

“I believe you arranged it, you wicked woman!”

“Here!” said Margery truculently, for, as she told herself, she was all on Miss Katharine’s side, love being love and the stuff that makes the world go round. And, she reasoned, it’s hard when someone who was as ready to love as most, forgets it! She thought: I don’t like this house. There’s ghosts in this house. I’d like to go with them two young ones, that I would. My goodness, there’ll be some fireworks there. She ain’t going to lose her lover like you did, Madam Carolan. He ain’t going to let that happen.

Perhaps children is wiser than their parents, because, if they wasn’t, how would things get moving on at all? I’m for the young ones … whatever you say. And she’s promised I’m to go with them and he won’t say no. I’m his friend. Haven’t I shown him I’m on his side! And he’s his father all over again and don’t mind handing out a bit of flattery even to an old woman. He’s made that way, and my little lady will want someone to look after her, I’m thinking. That’s my home with them, on the other side of the Blue Mountains, so I ain’t afraid of you, Madam Carolan, that I ain’t! And I knows too much about you to pretend I ami Carolan was looking at her arrogantly.

“I said that you probably arranged it. You let him in. You doubtless suggested he should come in. You meddling old woman!”

Margery felt sorry for her. If you know human nature, she was thinking, you know what’s behind words. What she meant was”You meddled in my life!” And that boy was the dead spit of his father, and she was thinking back years and years, and wanting his father, never having forgotten him. never having forgotten how, through her own pride, she had lost him.

Then Margery was angry with her, for she reasoned, had not Madam Carolan seen what interfering could do, and yet she wanted to interfere with them two lovely young things, wanted to tear them apart when they were yearning for one another, wanted to thrust the little dear into a pair of blue satin arms just because there was a grand tide and money there!

“I believe in helping young lovers!” said Margery boldly.

“And Madam, I’ll tell you here and now, it ain’t for you to go criticizing what I might do.”

That started Carolan: her lips quivered with anger.

“You are insolent,” she said.

“Oh, Madam,” said Margery, seeing herself safe in that station with her two young lovers, ‘have you forgotten what it’s like to be in love? It ain’t so long ago since…”

Insolence!” cried Carolan, her eyes flashing with rage.

“Ah! Now you’re like the poor shivering mite you was when you first came into my kitchen. Head full of plans, that was you. And the way you treated that poor boy’s father, and the way you went to the master, and then … and then …” Margery could not say it. But she lifted her eyes upwards to the first floor, and there was terror in Margery’s eyes, and the terror communicated itself to Carolan. for her pride collapsed before her fear. She was as superstitious as Margery.

Margery thought afterwards that something icy touched her. and even when she found that Henry had left the door open she still thought it must have been that poor sickly lady’s ghost.

Carolan recovered herself.

That will do!” she cried, and she turned and walked slowly back to her guests. Yes, there were ghosts in the house. Whatever your idea of ghosts, they were there.

Margery came up the stairs and knocked at the bedroom door. If the master was there she would make some excuse. He was not there. Carolan was in front of her, mirror fixing a lace collar on her gown; Audrey was hanging clothes in a cupboard.

Carolan looked up: her eyes smouldered as she was remembering last night’s scene with Margery.

“Yes?” she said coldly.

Margery sidled over and turned her back to Audrey. She said in a soft voice: “It is a letter that was brought for you.”

She held out an envelope across which was scrawled “Mrs. Masterman. Carolan took it.

“It was brought to me kitchen this morning.”

How long ago? wondered Carolan. Had Margery found some means of opening it and read it?