Blue Aloes | Page 4

but a hint to the proud has the same efficacy as a word to the

wise. Besides, she had no longing for the society of men, but rather a
wish to forget that she had ever known any. Life had made a hole in her
heart which she meant to fill if she could, but only with inanimate
things and the love of children. So that Mr. van Cannan's unsociable
restriction, far from being irksome, suited her perfectly.
Mrs. van Cannan apparently did not apply to herself her husband's
injunction, for she was charming to everybody, and especially to Mr.
Saltire. It was impossible not to notice this, and also that the fact was
not lost upon the gloomy, fanatic glance of the master of the house.
If Mr. Saltire showed bad taste in so openly returning Mrs. van
Cannan's interest, it had to be admitted that it was the form of bad taste
that is a law unto itself and takes no thought of the opinion of others.
Although Africa had spoiled Saltire's complexion, it was evident that
she had never bowed his neck or put humility into his eye or made him
desist from looking over his boldly cut nose as though he had bought
the world and did not want it.
But to Christine Chaine it seemed that to cause pain to a man racked
with neuritis and jealousy for the sake of a mild flirtation with a pretty
woman was a cruel as well as a dangerous game. That was one of the
reasons why the friendliness of his morning greeting had been met with
such coldness. She had known heartlessness before in her life, and
wished no further acquaintance with it. That was the resolution with
which she hurried back through the straggling garden, the whitewashed
porch, and massive front door to the nursery.
The children, full of high spirits and wilfulness, were engaged in their
morning romp of trying to evade Meekie, the colored "nannie," whose
business it was to bathe them.
They were extraordinarily lovable children, in spite of a certain elf-like
disobedience which possessed them like a disease. It was quite enough
to tell them not to do a thing for them to be eaten up with a desire to do
it forthwith. Christine had discovered this, and had learned to manage
them in other ways than by direct command.

"Take Roddy--no; take Coral, she is the dirtiest--no, no--Rita! Rita is
the pig!" they shrieked, as they pranced from bed to bed. "Bathe
yourself, old Meekie--you are the blackest of all."
Christine had her work cut out with them for the next half-hour, but at
last they were marshalled, sweet and shining, to breakfast, where she
presided, for their father always took an early breakfast, and Mrs. van
Cannan never rose until eleven. Afterward, according to custom, they
paid a visit to the latter's room, to wish her good-morning.
Isabel van Cannan was a big, lazy, laughing woman, with sleepy,
golden eyes. She spent hours in bed, lying, as she did now, amid
quantities of pillows, doing absolutely nothing. She had told Christine
that she was of Spanish extraction, yet she was blond as a Swede. Her
hair, which had a sort of lamb's-wool fluffiness, lay upon her pillows in
two great ropes, yellow as the pollen of a lily. She took the children one
by one into a sleepy embrace, kissed and patted their cheeks,
admonishing them to be good and obey Miss Chaine in everything.
"Be sure not to go in the sun without your hats," she adjured the two
small girls. "Roddy doesn't matter so much, but little girls' complexions
are very important."
Rita and Coral stuck out their rose-pink chins and exchanged a
sparkling glance. Christine knew that she would have trouble with them
and their hats all day.
"Good-bye," said Mrs. van Cannan, and sank back among her pillows.
As the children scampered out of the room, she called sharply, "Don't
go near the dam, Roddy!"
Christine had heard her say that before, and always with that sharp
inflection.
"I never let them go near the dam without me," she said reassuringly.
Mrs. van Cannan did not answer, but a quiver, as if of pain, passed over
her closed eyelids.

Outside in the passage, Roderick pressed close to Christine and
murmured, with a sort of elfin sadness:
"Carol was drowned in the dam."
The girl was startled.
"Carol?" she echoed. "Who was Carol?"
"My big brother--a year older than me," he whispered. "He is buried
out in the graveyard. I'll take you to see the place if you like. Let us go
now."
Christine collected herself.
"We must go to lessons now, dear. Later on, you shall show me
anything you like."
But from time to time during the morning,