The candle was burning low when Philip came. Between her lashes she saw him cast a look at it as though wondering if it would hold out for his undressing. He had left the front door wide open for the sake of coolness. The cool night air filled the hall and overflowed into their bedroom, meeting the air from the window. He too undressed quickly and lay down beside her. Before he had blown out the candle he had given her a long look, being suspicious of her sleeping. Now he laid his hand on her side and snuggled his head into the pillow.
As though galvanised, she sprang away from him.
"Don’t put a hand on me!" she exclaimed.
"Now, what’s up?" he asked.
She threw herself on her other side, her long damp hair streaming behind her.
"Very well", he said, "if you’re going to be like that". He rolled over, turning his back on her.
"Like what?" she asked between her teeth.
"Hoity-toity". Again he snuggled into the pillow, breathing deeply as though consciously content.
Did he feel as innocent as he sounded? No-a thousand times no! She longed to turn and face him, grasp him by the shoulders and pour out on him all that rankled in her mind. Ah, it was lucky for him that he had put Daisy away from him! Lucky for him that he had a wife of character!
It was not Philip but Daisy who filled her heart with rage. Daisy was not only designing. She was unscrupulous. She was bad. There was nothing she would not do to take your man away from you, if she wanted him. The desire in Daisy’s face as she drew Philip’s down toward hers had filled Adeline with a horrid fear of the temptress. How could a man be held responsible for what he did, with such a woman about? After all, he was but flesh and blood.
Yet, as Adeline lay awake hour after hour, she was not so much apprehending what Daisy might do, as considering her punishment for what she had done. The grandfather clock in the hall struck one, two and three. Still she had not slept. She resigned herself to a sleepless night. She relaxed and drew the sweet night smells into her nostrils. She was glad that Dr. Ramsay considered the night air of summer harmless. Yet she doubted if he would have approved of quite so much as now swept into the room.
The house seemed singularly alive tonight. It stood, in the hushed indrawn beauty of the night, hunched against the darkness, as though feeling in every stone the sting of the first unhappiness it had sheltered. They had been so happy here! Their very embraces had had in them an earthly pride that had risen out of the virgin land. The cycle of the days was not long enough for the expression of their content. "Think of the time when we shall see our own grain cut!" they had said. "What a Christmas we shall have! The house will be hung with pine and spruce boughs… What will it be like to watch the spring coming to Jalna?"
She felt as though a catastrophe had fallen on the house. She saw the house as old, crumbling, weighed down by the sorrows that had been enacted there, sunk beneath the great creeper that would cover it.
She opened her eyes to reassure herself and saw a paleness where the window was. Morning was on the way. She must remember to water the little Virginia creeper Mrs. Vaughan had given her. It had been planted beside the porch and thriven well till the dry, hot days came. Suddenly she put her hand toward Philip. It touched his back between the shoulders. He was breathing deeply. Drowsiness stole over her.
When she woke it was past nine o’clock. Mrs. Coveyduck was standing beside the bed with her morning tea on a tray. Already she had taken a comfortable motherly attitude toward Adeline.
"Bless my soul", she said, "what a way to treat your beautiful hair, Ma’am! It looks as though you had dragged it through a hedge. You must let me give it a good brushing for ’ee. Come, drink this warm tea and tell me what I shall give ’ee for breakfast".
"Bacon and egg", answered Adeline promptly. "Is it a fine morning? I want to ride".
"Ay, ’tis as luvely a day as you could see in a whole zummer-time. But surely you will want to rest after such a late party on the beach".
"No, no, I am not tired".
She sat up while Mrs. Coveyduck arranged the tray, with its pot of tea and two slices of thin bread and butter, in front of her.
"Coveyduck told me, Ma’am, that you were down in the kitchen heating milk when you came home. You should have called me to get it for ’ee. He had no right to let me sleep like a gert log while you waited on yourself. But he has no sense except to make things grow".
"I told him not to wake you".
"Ay, but there’s times to obey an order and times not to obey ’em. Now drink your tea and I’ll give the bird his seeds".
She filled Boney’s seed-cup from the canister of parrot seed that stood on the mantelpiece. Boney looked on with interest and when she had finished he flew to the top of his cage, scrambled over it in great haste and went in at the door. He thrust his dark beak into the seed-cup.
All the while Mrs. Coveyduck brushed Adeline’s hair he talked in a cooing voice to her.
"Dilkhoosa-Dilkhoosa-Mera lal", he said, wriggling his body on the perch.
"What does he say, Ma’am?" asked Mrs. Coveyduck.
"He calls me Pearl of the Harem".
"Does he now? Well, well, ’tis a clever bird and no mistake".
"Mrs. Coveyduck, I want you to tell Patsy O’Flynn to go to Vaughanlands and give my compliments to Miss Vaughan and ask her if she will do Captain and Mrs. Whiteoak the honour of riding with them this morning".
"Yes, Ma’am, I’ll send him off at once".
Adeline wore her riding-habit and hat to breakfast. She was alone, for Philip was always early about the estate and the others still slept. She could hear Gussie and Nicholas prattling at play under the young silver-birch tree. She heard Ernest crying with the intonation of hunger. Thank goodness, she was not still nursing this baby! Once again the milk from Maggie, the little goat, was succouring an infant Whiteoak. She heard the nurse going to the basement for Ernest’s bottle. Adeline ate heartily.
Almost as soon as Patsy returned with the news that Miss Vaughan would be delighted to ride with Captain and Mrs. Whiteoak, Daisy herself appeared.
Really, thought Adeline, she was shameless! Adeline regarded her appraisingly as she sat before the door on Robert’s own saddle horse, a charming young mare named Pixie. Daisy was dressed with great care. Her hair, caught at the nape, hung in three long curls that reached the saddle. And, oh, those little curls in front of the ears! Adeline could gladly have pulled them off. And her tasselled boots and her gauntleted gloves! And the false smile on her face! Adeline could gladly have killed her.
But she gave her a cheerful good-morning and, Patsy assisting her, mounted her own horse. He was a pale chestnut, graceful and of perfect motion, Philip’s present to her on her birthday.
"How well you are looking, dear Mrs. Whiteoak!" cried Daisy. "I have never seen you look better. And what a sweet horse! Oh, I envy you the way you ride! You make me quite ashamed. And there are the pet children!" She threw kisses to them. "Good morning, Nicholas! Good morning, Gussie! What eyes they have! And where is Captain Whiteoak?"
"He is where they are building the church. He may join us there. But I hope you won’t be too disappointed if we take our ride without him".
"Not at all. There is nothing I enjoy more than a tête-à — tête with you".
Somewhere there had been a storm. It had cleared the air and there was a pleasant freshness abroad. Axe-men were still at work uprooting stumps, levelling the ground, while carpenters were doing the last jobs to house and barns. Still, there was now a finish about the place. It was surprising how much Coveyduck had already accomplished in the way of lawn and flower border. Every day he sang the praises of the power of the virgin soil.