The White Peacock Read Online Free PDF

the way to anywhere."
    "Where may you be going then?" he asked.
    "I? Home," I replied with dignity.
    "You are a Beardsall?" he queried, eyeing me with bloodshot eyes.
    "I am!" I replied with more dignity, wondering who the fellow could be.
    He sat a few moments looking at me. It was getting dark in the wood.
Then he took up an ebony stick with a gold head, and rose. The stick
seemed to catch at my imagination. I watched it curiously as we walked
with the old man along the path to the gate. We went with him into the
open road. When we reached the clear sky where the light from the west
fell full on our faces, he turned again and looked at us closely. His
mouth opened sharply, as if he would speak, but he stopped himself, and
only said "Good–bye—Good–bye."
    "Shall you be all right?" I asked, seeing him totter.
    "Yes—all right—good–bye, lad."
    He walked away feebly into the darkness. We saw the lights of a vehicle
on the high–road: after a while we heard the bang of a door, and a cab
rattled away.
    "Well—whoever's he?" said George laughing.
    "Do you know," said I, "it's made me feel a bit rotten."
    "Ay?" he laughed, turning up the end of the exclamation with indulgent
surprise.
    We went back home, deciding to say nothing to the women. They were
sitting in the window seat watching for us, mother and Alice and Lettie.
    "You have been a long time!" said Lettie. "We've watched the sun go
down—it set splendidly—look—the rim of the hill is smouldering yet.
What have you been doing?"
    "Waiting till your Taurus finished work."
    "Now be quiet," she said hastily, and—turning to him, "You have come to
sing hymns?"
    "Anything you like," he replied.
    "How nice of you, George!" exclaimed Alice, ironically. She was a short,
plump girl, pale, with daring, rebellious eyes. Her mother was a Wyld, a
family famous either for shocking lawlessness, or for extreme
uprightness. Alice, with an admirable father, and a mother who loved her
husband passionately, was wild and lawless on the surface, but at heart
very upright and amenable. My mother and she were fast friends, and
Lettie had a good deal of sympathy with her. But Lettie generally
deplored Alice's outrageous behaviour, though she relished it—if
"superior" friends were not present. Most men enjoyed Alice in company,
but they fought shy of being alone with her.
    "Would you say the same to me?" she asked.
    "It depends what you'd answer," he said, laughingly.
    "Oh, you're so bloomin' cautious. I'd rather have a tack in my shoe than
a cautious man, wouldn't you Lettie?"
    "Well—it depends how far I had to walk," was Lettie's reply—"but if I
hadn't to limp too far——"
    Alice turned away from Lettie, whom she often found rather irritating.
    "You do look glum, Sybil," she said to me, "did somebody want to kiss
you?"
    I laughed—on the wrong side, understanding her malicious feminine
reference—and answered:
    "If they had, I should have looked happy."
    "Dear boy, smile now then,"—and she tipped me under the chin. I drew
away.
    "Oh, Gum—we are solemn! What's the matter with you? Georgy—say
something—else I's'll begin to feel nervous."
    "What shall I say?" he asked, shifting his feet and resting his elbows
on his knees. "Oh, Lor!" she cried in great impatience. He did not help
her, but sat clasping his hands, smiling on one side of his face. He was
nervous. He looked at the pictures, the ornaments, and everything in the
room; Lettie got up to settle some flowers on the mantel–piece, and he
scrutinised her closely. She was dressed in some blue foulard stuff,
with lace at the throat, and lace cuffs to the elbow. She was tall and
supple; her hair had a curling fluffiness very charming. He was no
taller than she, and looked shorter, being strongly built. He too had a
grace of his own, but not as he sat stiffly on a horse–hair chair. She
was elegant in her movements.
    After a little while mother called us in to supper.
    "Come," said Lettie to him, "take me in to