The Heart of Penelope

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

With his hands in his pockets, his head slightly thrown back, standing in a characteristic attitude, the young man watched them drive away in the curious low dogcart which had been designed by Penelope for her own use. As he turned back into the hall an unaccountable depression seized on him. The memory of his cousin's words concerning Cecily was far from giving him pleasure. He felt as if in listening he had been treacherous, not so much to the girl as to their own ideal relation to one another.

It is surely a mistake to say, as is so often said, that uncertainty and doubt are the invariable accompaniments of the beginning of a great passion. Wantley had felt, almost from the first, as sure of her as he had felt of himself, and yet his reverence for Cecily was great, and his opinion of his own merits most modest.

Death might come, and now he had become strangely afraid of death, but Cecily, living, he knew would and must belong to him. He was so sure of this, and he loved her so well as she was, that he had no desire, as yet, to do that which would let all the world share his dear mysterious secret, become witness of his deep content. And so, though Penelope had been very gentle—indeed, save at one moment, very delicate in what she had implied rather than said—Wantley would have been better pleased had the words remained unuttered.

Then his mind went on to wonder why his cousin had seemed so distressed and so unlike her restrained and, with him, always wholly possessed self. What had signified her odd words, her pleading look, so full of unwonted humility? Things were not going well with Wantley to-day, and his vague discontent was suddenly increased by the recollection that George Downing was leaving Monk's Eype.

Since Downing's arrival Wantley had not once been down to the Beach Room. Mrs. Robinson knew how to insure that her wishes, whatever they might be, should be known and respected, and so, partly in obedience to a word said by her regarding her famous guest's dislike of interruption, partly because he had felt Downing's manner become more and more frigid during the brief moments when the two men were obliged to place themselves in the courteous juxtaposition of host and guest, the younger had studiously avoided forcing his company on the elder.

Now, remembering Penelope's words concerning the part he was to play in the matter of introducing Downing to David Winfrith, he felt that he might without indiscretion seek the other out.

Wantley was surprised by the warmth of his welcome. Downing seemed really glad to have his solitude invaded, and a moment later his visitor, sitting with his back to the broad window, at right angles to the older man's powerful figure, was realizing with some amusement and astonishment how carefully Penelope's old play-room had been arranged with a view to its present occupant's convenience and even comfort.

His cool, observant eyes first took note of the camp-bed, only partly hidden by the splendid Chinese screen, never before moved from its place in the great Picture Room of the villa; then of the strips of felt laid down over the oak floor; of the comfortable chair in which Downing was now leaning back—lastly, his glance rested on the wide writing-table, covered with papers, note-books, and a map held flatly to the wind-swept surface of the table by a small revolver.

Wantley also perceived a pile of rugs, generally kept in the hall of the villa, for which he had searched in vain a day or two before, when he wanted something to wrap about the knees of old Miss Wake. This, then, was where they had been spirited away!

He charitably reminded himself that Persian Downing, in spite of his straight, long figure, his keen eyes, his powerful chin and jaw, was no longer a young man, and with much living alone had doubtless found time to acquire the art of securing for himself the utmost physical comfort. Wantley's admiration for him somewhat unreasonably declined in consequence, and no suspicion that these little arrangements, these little luxuries, might be the sole fruit of another person's intelligent thoughtfulness even crossed his mind.