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Updated: June 29, 2025
But father would not go, and mother and Ena could not without a man. Peter was the only one available at the moment, and it was April when Ena felt well enough to face the North again.
Of course, if the girl were coming to New York to be a Salamander, the weapon would be useless. Ena must find another. She could not be sure until she had met Miss Child; but she told herself that no glorified golliwog, however sly, could fool her for five minutes! She would soon know whether Peter were right or wrong about this daughter of a clergyman whose mother was dead.
Young Peter and his mother lunched alone together at the stately English hour of two which Ena had decreed for the household. Old Peter had ordered a cup of hot milk and had sent word that, his indigestion being rather worse than usual, he intended to spend the afternoon lying down. This had often happened before, and mother, though distressed, was not alarmed.
When I came to myself I mean, about wondering if I could have done anything better, and realizing what a terrible lot I cared, she was gone. Then I hoped Ena would hear from her. I think she promised to write. But it appears that she never did so." "Is she in New York still?" "I wish to heaven I knew!" "Couldn't you find out?" "I might, if I wanted to be a cad." "Why what do you mean?"
Ena was so madly fascinating and I so hopelessly her slave that she could always draw me back, however much prudence and reason warned me to escape from her control. I tried again and again to find out about this man Vardin, but was always met by the same assurance, which she repeated with every kind of solemn oath, that she had never seen the man in her life.
"My name is Armitage," she said, in a low, hesitating tone "Ena Armitage." "Armitage!" Miss Leigh repeated the name with a kind of wondering accent "Armitage? Are you any relative of the painter, Pierce Armitage?" The girl's heart beat quickly for a moment the little drawing- room seemed to whirl round her then she collected her forces with a strong effort and answered "No!"
The stuff did smell of fresias which he proved by holding it to his lips for an instant the very scent that had come out to him whenever the dryad door opened, in reality and memory, the scent he had grown intimate with while the Moon dress hung in his wardrobe during those days when he had awaited a chance to present his offering to Ena!
Of course Ena was wrong. He was the last fellow in the world a girl could care for. He had learned that to his sorrow. A girl couldn't even like him. There was something about him that bored her nearly to death as soon as she began to know him fairly well, and made her want to bolt. He was as sure, he told himself, of the exact nature of nice little Lady Eileen's feeling for him as of his for her.
"He hasn't said he won't do it," Ena cut in. "No, but he hasn't said he will, has he?" "Not yet. I daren't seem too eager." "To save my life, I don't see why you should be eager. But as you are, I've been giving my mind to the subject." I'm sure his sister would. Perhaps you can answer for the mother. The trouble may be money." "Perhaps. I've thought of that. But what can we do?
Her eyes seemed to have grown too big for it. Ena said Petro mustn't find out where she is. Rather rum what?" "Is this the thing that's made you so grumpy ever since?" "I don't know that I've been grumpy. Only a bit reflective. The fact is " "What?" "Never mind. It wouldn't sound very nice." "Who cares how it sounds? You might tell me, now we've got so far."
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