The Dark Flower | Page 7

had taken a drug. For hours, perhaps, she would stay like
that. And then it would all come over her again. She never thought of
his loving her; that would be--unnatural. Why should he love her? She
was very humble about it. Ever since that Sunday, when she avoided
the confessional, she had brooded over how to make an end--how to get
away from a longing that was too strong for her. And she had hit on
this plan--to beg for the mountains, to go back to where her husband
had come into her life, and try if this feeling would not die. If it did not,
she would ask to be left out there with her own people, away from this
danger. And now the fool--the blind fool--the superior fool--with his
satiric smile, his everlasting patronage, had driven her to overturn her
own plan. Well, let him take the consequences; she had done her best!
She would have this one fling of joy, even if it meant that she must stay
out there, and never see the boy again!
Standing in her dusky hall, where a faint scent of woodrot crept out into
the air, whenever windows and doors were closed, she was all
tremulous with secret happiness. To be with him among her mountains,
to show him all those wonderful, glittering or tawny crags, to go with
him to the top of them and see the kingdoms of the world spread out
below; to wander with him in the pine woods, on the Alps in all the
scent of the trees and the flowers, where the sun was hot! The first of
July; and it was only the tenth of June! Would she ever live so long?
They would not go to San Martino this time, rather to Cortina--some
new place that had no memories!
She moved from the window, and busied herself with a bowl of flowers.
She had heard that humming sound which often heralded her husband's
approach, as though warning the world to recover its good form before
he reached it. In her happiness she felt kind and friendly to him. If he
had not meant to give her joy, he had nevertheless given it! He came
downstairs two at a time, with that air of not being a pedagogue, which
she knew so well; and, taking his hat off the stand, half turned round to
her.
"Pleasant youth, young Lennan; hope he won't bore us out there!"

His voice seemed to have an accent of compunction, to ask pardon for
having issued that impulsive invitation. And there came to her an
overwhelming wish to laugh. To hide it, to find excuse for it, she ran up
to him, and, pulling his coat lapels till his face was within reach, she
kissed the tip of his nose. And then she laughed. And he stood looking
at her, with his head just a little on one side, and his eyebrows just a
little raised.
IV
When young Mark heard a soft tapping at his door, though out of bed,
he was getting on but dreamily--it was so jolly to watch the mountains
lying out in this early light like huge beasts. That one they were going
up, with his head just raised above his paws, looked very far away out
there! Opening the door an inch, he whispered:
"Is it late?"
"Five o'clock; aren't you ready?"
It was awfully rude of him to keep her waiting! And he was soon down
in the empty dining-room, where a sleepy maid was already bringing in
their coffee. Anna was there alone. She had on a flax-blue shirt, open at
the neck, a short green skirt, and a grey- green velvety hat, small, with
one black-cock's feather. Why could not people always wear such nice
things, and be as splendid- looking! And he said:
"You do look jolly, Mrs. Stormer!"
She did not answer for so long that he wondered if it had been rude to
say that. But she DID look so strong, and swift, and happy- looking.
Down the hill, through a wood of larch-trees, to the river, and across
the bridge, to mount at once by a path through hay-fields. How could
old Stormer stay in bed on such a morning! The peasant girls in their
blue linen skirts were already gathering into bundles what the men had
scythed. One, raking at the edge of a field, paused and shyly nodded to
them. She had the face of a Madonna, very calm and grave and sweet,

with delicate arched brows-- a face it was pure pleasure to see. The boy
looked back at her. Everything to him, who had never been out of
England before, seemed strange and glamorous. The chalets, with their
long wide burnt- brown wooden