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Updated: August 22, 2024
She went without saying good night she knew her father would come to her room that last evening. George had not yet come in; and Gratian was left alone with Pierson in the drawing-room, round whose single lamp, in spite of close-drawn curtains, moths were circling: She moved over to him on the sofa. "Dad, promise me not to worry about Nollie; we'll take care of her."
George smiled, on the point of saying: 'That makes me feel it must be a good thing! But he subdued the impulse. "I agree that we're bound by his absence not to further it actively. Still Nollie knows his wishes, and it's up to her and no one else. After all, she's no longer a child." His advice was followed.
He went up the half-flight of stairs to Noel's narrow little room, next the nursery. No voice answered his tap. It was dark, but he could see her at the window, leaning far out, with her chin on her hands. "Nollie!" She answered without turning: "Such a lovely night, Daddy. Come and look! I'd like to set the goat free, only he'd eat the rock plants. But it is his night, isn't it?
And out in the night, clouds raced over the moon, which had come full once more. Pierson went back to his study, and wrote to Gratian. "If you can get leave for a few days, my dear, I want you at home. I am troubled about Nollie. Ever since that disaster happened to her she has been getting paler; and to-day she fainted. She won't see a doctor, but perhaps you could get her to see George.
He, already a free-thinker, was now revealed as a free-liver. Poor little Nollie! Endangered again already! Every man a kind of wolf waiting to pounce on her! He found Lavendie and Noel in the drawing-room, standing before the portrait which was nearing completion. He looked at it for a long minute, and turned away: "Don't you think it's like me, Daddy?" "It's like you; but it hurts me.
"There never was anyone more loving than you; Nollie!" he said quietly. "Remember my letter. And good night, my love!" Then, afraid to stay another second, he went quickly out of the dark little room.... George Laird, returning half an hour later, heard a voice saying softly: "George, George!" Looking up, he saw a little white blur at the window, and Noel's face just visible.
There was a silence; then Fort heard Pierson murmur: "That is beautiful, monsieur; but oh! how wrong!" "And what do you think, Nollie?" said the man in khaki suddenly. The girl had been sitting very still in her low chair, with her hands crossed in her lap, her eyes on the fire, and the lamplight shining down on her fair hair; she looked up, startled, and her eyes met Fort's.
Edward Pierson thought: 'Nice couple! And had a moment's vision of himself and Leila, dancing at that long-ago Cambridge May Week on her seventeenth birthday, he remembered, so that she must have been a year younger than Nollie was now! This would be the young man she had talked of in her letters during the last three weeks. Were they never going to stop?
My wife wonders if it exists at all except in the human mind but she can't explain what the human mind is. My father-in-law thinks that it is God's hobby but he can't explain who or what God is. Nollie is silent. And Monsieur Lavendie hasn't yet told us what he thinks. What do you think, monsieur?"
"My dear," he said, "that doctrine is the most dangerous in the world. I am surprised at George." "I don't think George is in danger, Dad." "George is a man of wide experience and strong judgment and character; but think how fatal it would be for Nollie, my poor Nollie, whom a little gust can blow into the candle."
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