The Obstacle Race by Ethel May Dell (robert munsch read aloud .txt) 📕

the way we came and explore the gardens."
She threw him a glance that expressed acquiescence and a certain mead of amused appreciation. For somehow Dick Green in his blue serge and straw hat managed to look smarter if less immaculate than any of the white-waistcoated band of local magnates around them. So--for decency's sake--she prowled round the tent with Dick at her shoulder, admiring everything she saw and forgetting as soon as she had admired. She told herself that it was a day of such supreme happiness as could not come twice in any lifetime, and because of it she lingered, refusing to hasten the moment for which Dick had made provision.
"Haven't you had enough of it?" he said, at last.
And she answered him with a quivering laugh. "No, not nearly. I'm spinning out every single second."
"Ah, but they won't wait," he said. "Come! I think we're safely lost now. Let us go!"
She turned obediently from a glorious spread of gloxinias, and he made a way for her through the buzzing crowd to the entrance. When Dick spoke with the voice of authority, it was her pleasure to submit.
She felt her pulses tingle as she followed him, to be alone with him again, to feel herself encompassed by the fiery magic of his love, to yield throbbing surrender to the mastery that would not be denied. Yet when he turned to her outside in the hot sunshine with the blaring band close at hand she almost shrank away, she almost voiced a pretext for continuing their unprofitable wandering through the stifling tents. For, strangely, though he smiled at her, there was about him in that moment a quality that went near to scaring her. Something untamed, something indomitable, looked out at her from his glittering eyes. It was almost like a challenge, as if he dared her to dispute his right.
"That's better," he said, drawing a deep breath. "Now we can get away."
"We shan't get away from the people," she said.
He threw a rapid glance around. "Yes, we shall--with any luck. Come along! I know the way. There's a little landing-stage place down by the lake. We'll go there. There may even be a boat handy--if the gods are kind."
The gods were kind. They skirted the terraced gardens, which were not open to the public, and plunged down a winding walk through a shrubbery that led somewhat sharply downwards, away from the noise and the crush into cool green depths of woodland through which at last there shone up at them the gleam of water.
Juliet was panting when at length her guide paused. "My darling, what a shame!" he said. "But hang on to me! There are some steps round the corner, and they may be slippery. We'll soon be down now, and there's not a soul anywhere. Look! There's a fairy barque waiting for us!"
She caught sight of a white skiff, lying in the water close to the bank. As he had predicted, the final descent was a decided scramble, but he held her up until the mossy bank was reached; and would have held her longer, but with a little breathless laugh she released herself.
"My shoes are ruined," she remarked.
As they were of light grey suede, and the precipitous path they had travelled was a mixture of clay and limestone the ruin was palpable and very thorough. Dick surveyed them with compunction.
"I say, they're wet through! You must take them off at once. Get into the boat!"
"No, no!" She laughed again with more assurance. "I am not going to take them off. We couldn't dry them if I did, and I should never get them on again. Do you think we ought to get into the boat? Suppose the owner came along?"
"The owner? Lord Saltash, do you mean?" He scoffed at the idea. "Do you really imagine he would come within a hundred leagues of the place on such a day as this. No, he is probably many salt miles away in that ocean-going yacht of his. Lucky dog!"
"Oh, do you envy him?" she said.
He gave her a shrewd glance. "Not in the least. He is welcome to his yacht--and his Lady Jo--and all that is his."
"Dick!" She made a swift gesture of repudiation. "Please don't repeat that--scandal--again!"
He raised his brows with a faintly ironical smile. "Are you still giving her the benefit of the doubt?" he said. "I imagine no one else does."
The colour went out of her face. She stood quite motionless, looking not at him but at a whirl of dancing gnats on the gold-flecked water beyond him.
"She went to Paris," she said, in the tone of one asserting a fact that no one could dispute.
"So did he," said Green. "The yacht went round to Bordeaux to pick him up afterwards. I understand that he was not alone."
She turned on him in sudden anger. "Why do you repeat this horrible gossip? Where do you hear it?"
He held out his hand to her. "Juliet, I repeat it, because I want you to know--you have got to know--that she is unworthy of your friendship, and--you shall never touch pitch with my consent. I have heard it from various sources,--from Ashcott, from the agent here, Bishop, and others. My dear, you have always known her for a heartless flirt. You broke with her because she jilted the man she was about to marry. Now that she has gone to another man, surely you have done with her!"
He spoke without anger, but with a force and authority that carried far more weight. Juliet's indignation passed. But she did not touch the outstretched hand, and in a moment he bent and took hers.
"Now I've made you furious," he said.
She looked at him somewhat piteously, assaying a smile with the lips that trembled. "No, I am not furious. Only--when you talk like that you make me--rather uneasy. You see, Lady Jo and I have always been--birds of a feather."
"Don't," he said, and suddenly gripped her hand so that she gasped with pain. "Oh, did I hurt you, sweetheart? Forgive me. But I can't have you talk like that--couple yourself with that woman whose main amusement for years has been to break as many hearts as she could capture. Forget her, darling! Promise me you will! Come! We're not going to let her spoil this perfect day."
He was drawing her to him, but she sought to resist him, and even when his arms were close about her she did not wholly yield. He held her to him, but he did not press for a full surrender.
And--perhaps because of his forbearance--she presently lifted her face to his and clung to him with all her quivering strength. "Just for to-day, Dick!" she whispered tremulously. "Just for to-day!"
Their lips met upon the words. And, "For ever and ever!" he made passionate answer, as he held her to his heart.


CHAPTER II
SALTASH

The sunshine was no less bright or the day less full of summer warmth when they floated out upon the lake a little later. But Juliet's mood had changed. She leaned back on Dick's coat in the stern of the boat, drifting her fingers through the rippling water with a thoughtful face. Once or twice she only nodded when Dick spoke to her, and he, bending to his sculls, soon fell silent, content to watch her while the golden minutes passed.
The lake was long and narrow, surrounded by woodland trees with coloured water-lilies floating here and there upon its surface--a fairy spot, mysterious, green as emerald. The music of the band sounded distant here, almost like the echoes of another world. They reached the middle of the lake, and Dick suffered his sculls to rest upon the water, sending feathery splashes from their tips that spread in widening circles all around them.
As if in answer to an unspoken word, Juliet's eyes came up to his. She faintly smiled. "Have you brought that woodland pipe of yours?" she asked.
He smiled back at her. "No, I am keeping that for another occasion."
She lifted her straight brows interrogatively, without speaking.
He answered her still smiling, but with that in his voice that brought the warm colour to her face. "For the day when we go away, together, sweetheart, and don't come back."
Her eyes sank before his, but in a moment or two she lifted them again, meeting his look with something of an effort. "I wonder, Dick," she said slowly, "I wonder if we ever shall."
He leaned towards her. "Are you daring me to run away with you?"
She shook her head. "I should probably turn into something very hideous if you did, and that would be--rather terrible for both of us."
"That's a parable, is it?" He was still looking at her keenly, earnestly.
She made a little gesture of remonstrance, as if his regard were too much for her. "You can take it as you please. But as I have no intention of running away with you, perhaps it is beside the point."
He laughed with a hint of mastery. "Our intentions on that subject may not be the same. I'll back mine against yours any day."
She smiled at his words though her colour mounted higher. After a moment she sat up, and laid a hand upon his knee. "Dick, you're getting too managing--much. I suppose it's the schoolmaster part of you. I daresay you find it gets you the upper hand with a good many, but--it won't with me."
His hand was on hers in an instant, she thrilled to the electricity of his touch. "No--no!" he said. "That's just the soul of me, darling, leaping all the obstacles to reach and hold you. You're not going to tell me you have no use for that?"
"But you promised to be patient," she said.
"Well, I will be. I am. Don't look so serious! What have I done?"
His eyes challenged her to laughter, and she laughed, though somewhat uncertainly. "Nothing--yet, Dick. But--I don't feel at all sure of you to-day. You make me think of a faun of the woods. I haven't the least idea what you will do next."
"What a mercy I've got you safe in the boat!" he said. "I didn't know you were so shy. What shall I do to reassure you?"
His hand moved up her wrist with the words, softly pushing up the lacy sleeve, till it found the bend of the elbow, when he stooped and kissed the delicate blue veins, closely with lips that lingered.
Then, his head still bent low, very tenderly he spoke. "Don't be afraid of my love, sweetheart! Let it be your--defence!"
She was sitting very still in his hold save that every fibre of her throbbed at the touch of his lips. But in a moment she moved, touched his shoulder, his neck, with fingers that trembled, finally smoothed the close black hair.
"Why did you make me love you?" she said, and uttered a sharp sigh that caught her unawares.
He laughed as he raised his head. "Poor darling! You didn't want to, did you? Hard lines! I believe it's upset all your plans for the future."
"It has," she said. "At least--it threatens to!"
"What a shame!" He spoke commiseratingly. "And what were your plans--if it isn't impertinent of me to ask?"
She smiled faintly. "Well, marriage certainly wasn't one of them. And I'm not sure that it is now. I feel like the girl in _Marionettes_--Cynthia Paramount--who said she didn't think any women ought to marry until she had been engaged at least six times."
"That little beast!" Dick sat up suddenly and returned to his sculls. "Juliet, why did you read that book? I told you not to."
Her smile deepened though