"Ah, here you are," said Hosack, scrambling a little stiffly out of a hammock."Well, have you had a good ride?"Joan came up the steps with Harry Oldershaw, the nice boy.She was in white linen riding kit, with breeches and brown top boots.Aman's straw hat sat squarely on her little head and there was a brown and white spotted tie under her white silk collar.Color danced on her cheeks, health sparkled in her eyes and there was a laugh of sheer high spirits floating behind her like the blown petals of a daisy.
"Perfectly wonderful," she said."I love the country about here, with the little oaks and sturdy ferns.It's so springy.And aren't the chestnut trees in the village a sight for the blind? I don't wonder you built a house in Easthampton, Mr.Hosack.Are we too late for tea?"Hosack ran his eyes over her and blinked a little as though he had looked at the sun."Too late by an hour," he said, with a sulky glance at young Oldershaw."I thought you were never coming back."His resentment of middle age and jealousy of the towering youth of the sun-tanned lad who had been Joan's companion were a little pitiful.
Harry caught his look and laughed with the sublime audacity of one who believes that he ranks among the Immortals.To him forty-nine seemed to be a colossal sum of years, almost beyond belief.It was pathetic of this old fellow to imagine that he had any right to the company of a girl so springlike as Joan."If we hadn't worn the horses to a frazzle," he said, "we shouldn't have been back till dark.Have a drink, Joan?""Yes, water.Buckets of it.Hurry up, Harry."The boy, triumphant at being in favor, swung away, and Joan flung her crop on to a cane sofa."Where's everybody?" she asked.
"What's it matter," said Hosack."Sit here and talk to me for a change.I've hardly had a word with you all day." He caught her hand and drew her into the swinging hammock."What a pretty thing you are," he added, with a catch in his breath."I know," said Joan.
"Otherwise, probably, I shouldn't be here, should I?" She forgot all about him, and an irresistible desire to tease, at the sight of the sea which, a stone's throw from the house, pounded on the yellow sweep of sand and swooped up in large half circles of glistening water."I've a jolly good mind to have another dip before changing.
What do you say?"
"No, don't," said Hosack, a martyr to the Forty-nine-feeling.
"Concentrate on me for ten minutes, if only because, damn it, I'm your host."Joan pushed his hand away."I've given up concentrating," she said.
"I gave it a turn a little while ago, but it led nowhere, so why worry? I'm on the good old Merry-go-round again, and if it doesn't whack up to the limit of its speed I'll know the reason why.There's a dance at the Club to-night, isn't there?""Yes, but we don't go."
She was incredulous."Don't go,--to a dance? Why?""It's rather a mixed business," he said."The hotel pours its crowd out.It isn't amusing.We can dance here if you want to."But her attention was caught by young Oldershaw who came out carrying a glass and a jug of iced water.She sprang up and went to meet him, the dance forgotten, Hosack forgotten.Her mood was that of a bird, irresponsible, restless."Good for you," she said, and drank like a thirsty plant."Nothing like water, is there?" She smiled up at him.
He was as pleased with himself as though he owned the reservoir.
"Have another ?"
"I should think so." And she drank again, put the glass down on the first place that came to hand, relieved him of the jug, put it next to the glass, caught hold of his muscular arm, ran him down the steps, and along the board path to the beach."I'll race you to the sea," she cried, and was off like a mountain goat.He was too young to let her beat him and waited for her with the foam frothing round his ankles and a broad grin on his attractive face.
He was about to cheek her when she held up a finger and with a little exclamation of delight pointed to the sky behind the house.
The sun was setting among a mass of royal clouds.A golden wand had touched the dunes and the tips of the scrub and all over the green of the golf course, still dotted with scattered figures, waves of reflected lusters played.To the left of the great red ball one clear star sparkled like an eye.Just for a moment her lips trembled and her young breasts rose and fell, and then she threw her head up and wheeled round and went off at a run.Not for her to think back, or remember similar sights behind the woods near Marty's place.Life was too short for pain."Who Cares?" was her motto once more, and this time joy-riding must live up to its name.
Harry Oldershaw followed, much puzzled at Joan's many quick changes of mood.Several times during their irresponsible chatter on the beach between dips her laughter had fallen suddenly, like a dead bird, and she had sat for several minutes as far away from himself and the other men as though they were cut off by a thick wall.
