Greatheart | Page 8

would be a mistake."
"Is anything impossible?" said Scott.
He raised his hand before she could make any answer, and sent a cheery holloa down to his brother who waved a swift response. They quickened their steps to meet him.
Eustace was striding up the hill with the easy swing of a giant. He held out both hands to Isabel as he drew near. She pulled herself free from Scott, and went to him as one drawn by an unseen force.
"Ah, that's right," he said, and bent to kiss her. "I'm glad you've been for a walk. But you might have come and spoken to me first. I was only on the rink."
"I didn't want to see a lot of people," said Isabel, shrinking a little. "I--I don't like so many strangers, Eustace."
"Oh, nonsense!" he said lightly. "You have been buried too long. It's time you came out of your shell. I shan't take you home again till you have quite got over that."
His tone was kindly but it held authority. Isabel attempted no protest. Only she looked away over the sparkling world of white and blue with something near akin to despair in her eyes.
Scott took out his cigarette-case, and handed it to his brother. "Isabel's birthday present to me!" he said.
Eustace examined it with a smile. "Very nice! Did you think of it all by yourself, Isabel?"
"No," she said with dreary listlessness. "Biddy reminded me."
Eustace's face changed. He frowned slightly and gave the case back to his brother.
"Have a cigarette!" said Scott.
He took one absently, and Scott did the same.
"How did you get on with the lady in red?" he asked.
Eustace threw him a glance half-humorous, half-malicious. "If it comes to that, how did you get on with the little brown girl?"
"Oh, very nicely," smiled Scott. "Her name is Dinah. Your lady's name is Rose de Vigne, if you care to know."
"Really?" said Eustace. "And who told you that?"
"Dinah, of course, or Dinah's brother. I forget which. They belong to the same party."
"I should think that little snub-nosed person feels somewhat in the shade," observed Eustace.
"I expect she does. But she has plenty of wits to make up for it. She seems to find life quite an interesting entertainment."
"She can't skate a bit," said Eustace.
"Can't she? You'll have to give her a hint or two. I am sure she would be very grateful."
"Did she tell you so?"
"I'm not going to tell you what she told me. It wouldn't be fair."
Eustace laughed with easy tolerance. "Oh, I've no objection to giving her a hand now and then if she's amusing, and doesn't become a nuisance. I'm not going to let myself be bored by anybody this trip. I'm out for sport only."
"It's a lovely place," observed Scott.
"Oh, perfect. I'm going to ski this afternoon. How do you like it, Isabel?"
Abruptly the elder brother accosted her. She was walking between them as one in a dream. She started at the sound of her name.
"I don't know yet," she said. "It is rather cold, isn't it? I--I am not sure that I shall be able to sleep here."
Eustace's eyes held hers for a moment. "Oh, no one expects to sleep here," he said lightly. "You skate all day and dance all night. That's the programme."
Her lips parted a little. "I--dance!" she said.
"Why not?" said Eustace.
She made a gesture that was almost expressive of horror. "When I dance," she said, in her deep voice, "you may put me under lock and key for good and all, for I shall be mad indeed."
"Don't be silly!" he said sharply.
She shrank as if at a blow, and on the instant very quietly Scott intervened. "Isabel and I prefer to look on," he said, drawing her hand gently through his arm. "I fancy it suits us both best."
His eyes met his brother's quick frown deliberately, with the utmost steadiness, and for a few electric seconds there was undoubted tension between them. Isabel was aware of it, and gripped the supporting arm very closely.
Then with a shrug Eustace turned from the contest. "Oh, go your own way! It's all one to me. You're one of the slow coaches that never get anywhere."
Scott said nothing whatever. He smoked his cigarette without a sign of perturbation. Save for a certain steeliness in his pale eyes, his habitually placid expression remained unaltered.
He walked in silence for a few moments, then without effort began to talk in a general strain of their journey of the previous day. Had Isabel cared about the sleigh-ride? If so, they would go again one day.
She lighted up in response with an animation which she had not displayed during the whole walk. Her eyes shone a little, as with a far-off fire of gratitude.
"I should like it if you would, Stumpy," she said.
"Then we will certainly go," he said.