Gates of Dawn (24 page)

Read Gates of Dawn Online

Authors: Susan Barrie

BOOK: Gates of Dawn
12.88Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

And having adopted this more philosophic attitude, which was a renunciation of all her secret dreams—she had never allowed
them to become hopes!—she grew lighter
-
hearted and appeared so, and was more able to enter into his spirit of gay good-fellowship and
camaraderie,
and even to allow him to tease and provoke her without being noticeably affected by the teasing. And if sometimes he surprised her by looking at her a little askance—if he sometimes seemed to be pondering a puzzle—an enigma—when he studied her so closely, she did not ask herself why he did so. And she did not permit him to repeat that light kiss on her forehead when he said good night. When he left the chalet after spending an evening in their company she kept Noel close to her, and it was Noel whom he nowadays kissed good night—albeit it was no more than a kind of butterfly caress—thereby setting a greater seal upon their relationship as uncle and niece.

Dinner dances at
th
e hotel were the gayest feature of that peculiarly halcyon period, and the only really smart diversion Zindenbourg offered at that season. And although Richard was not one to find much enjoyment in the efforts of an out-of-season dance band, he did invite his niece and her companion to extract what enjoyment they could out of dancing with him on at least two occasions, apart from the other occasions when they simply dined with him there.

He had one or two friends staying in the hotel. There were only too pleased to be introduced to the girls, and they formed quite a lively party on the second occasion. On the third—and last—occasion before the fortnight ended, Dr. Muller was invited to join them, and as it was on his way he collected the girls from the chalet and set them down on the balcony of the hotel, where they were to await their host.

While they were waiting he ordered drinks, and as Melanie sat sipping hers she could see through the big window into the main dining-salon, where their table occupied quite a prominent place. It was usually gay with skilfully arranged floral decorations which the manager felt to be only the due of so important a personage as Richard Trenchard, who had patronized his hotel for so long. But tonight the table seemed to be larger than usual, and the sparkle and glitter of cut-glass and plate and flowers was almost dazzling. And an ice-bucket was already in position beside the host

s chair, and that meant champagne, and some sort of a celebration.

There seemed to be unusual excitement in the hotel, too, as if an arrival—probably unexpected—had filled it with more than ordinary bustle.

Dr. Muller leant forward to inspect Melanie

s glass, and was about to suggest another sherry when he noticed the direction of her surprised glance. Me looked over his shoulder at the table and its magnificence, and smiled a little.


The management is endeavoring to do itself justice,

he said.

I understand that a film star arrived here today from England, and the entire staff is running round in circles.

Melanie felt as if someone had hit her between the shoulder blades and temporarily winded her. She could say nothing, for this could mean only one thing—the arrival of Sylvia Gaythorpe
!
Unless some other film star had been attracted to Zindenbourg, which was unlikely
...

And somehow she had known that Sylvia, would arrive like this, unexpectedly, putting an end to her false peace of mind, and scattering all hopes or possibility of enjoyment for that evening.

Kurt Muller saw something like a stunned look appear in her eyes, and he wondered considerably, but he said nothing. Melanie, in his opinion, was looking as delightful as only a young and appealing Englishwoman with chestnut hair and large brown eyes and an exquisite pallor could look, in a tailored dress of white silk jersey worn with a little bolero of leaf-green velvet. But that she was a startled and perturbed Englishwoman was also quite dear, and even Noel looked suddenly completely astonished as she leaned forward and neglected her iced lemonade.


Surely it

s not—

She was about to say

Sylvia?

when Sylvia herself appeared on the balcony, with Richard Trenchard beside her. Behind them—probably not at all happy at being forced to bring up t
h
e rear—was Tony Malpas.

Sylvia did not look at all pleased, and she was evidently sulking. She wore a dress of daring flame-color which, instead of fighting with her hair, seemed merely to merge with it and assist it to throw into prominence the perfection of her white skin and the brilliance of her eyes. Melanie had never seen them so long and green and snake-like under their fantastic eyelashes, and her mouth was like a flame also, and set mutinously.


You said you were going to return almost immediately,

she was accusing Richard,

and instead for some absurd reason you hang on here at this third-rate little hotel in a mere Austrian village. What on earth for, I can

t imagine!

And then she caught sight of Noel and Melanie and Dr. Muller, and her mouth closed like a trap. Her eyes accused them, however, of being a contributory cause—if nothing worse!

Dr. Muller stood up and sprang to attention in front of her, as if his training had been military and not medical, and Melanie looked as if she was about to offer her her chair, when Richard prevented her by placing a hand on her shoulder. His expression was difficult to read. For once he was merely meticulously polite, and his keen grey eyes were masked.


Sit still, Miss Brooks,

he said.

There are plenty of other chairs. Anyhow as a matter of fact I think we had better go inside and start dinner at once, or the champagne I ordered will spoil.


Oh! So you did order the champagne?

Sylvia looked up at him still with a peevish expression, but a faint brightening of her eyes.

And I don

t mind telling you that I need it, after flying all the way from England. I hate flying—I

m always air-sick. And it was most difficult for me to get away at all.


Then it would perhaps have been as well if you had not made the effort,

Richard retorted smoothly.

Sylvia surveyed him from between narrowed lids.


If the mountain wouldn

t come to Mahomet, then Mahomet had to come to the mountain,

she returned with some asperity. But all at once she softened towards him and slipped a hand inside his arm.

However, I

ll forgive you now that I

ve arrived, and possibly you did need a holiday after working so hard on the play, poor lamb! But you should have realized that I needed a holiday, too, even if it was only a tiny wee one sandwiched in between rehearsals. For, oh, how those rehearsals exhaust me!

She leaned her flame-colored head against his arm, and looked up at him with eyes that were suddenly languishing.

Poor Richard, all alone here in this dull little hotel, when I might have been with you!

Richard, without seeming at all rude, very carefully removed his arm, and indicated Dr. Muller, who was still standing very stiffly to attention.


Sylvia, my dear, this is the fellow who has wrought such a miracle for Noel, assisted by the climate out here—Dr. Kurt Muller! Don

t you think she

s made a tremendous improvement?

Sylvia gave the doctor her hand and looked at him with all her milk-white teeth showing between her brilliant lips, and her green eyes as seductive as usual. Then she cast a casual glance over Noel—at least, it was casual until it became arrested by the picture of the invalid in a gauzy blue dress like a gossamer blue cloud, with a sophisticated page-boy and clear eyes that, regarded her with a hint of humor in them. Noel was certainly altered in more ways than one.


My dear,

she drawled,

if this is what Zindenbourg has done for you, I think I ought to spend some time here myself!

To Melanie she said nothing—nothing at all. She did not even acknowledge her by a bare inclination of the head, and when they went in to dinner, and all through dinner, she ignored the young woman whose job it was to look after Noel as if she did not exist. Possibly she regarded her as she regarded the waitresses who waited upon them at table, and to whom she never returned a word of thanks, but Melanie was a little shocked deep down inside herself by this evidence either of complete hostility or deliberate and very noticeable rudeness.

Dr. Muller sat beside Noel at the flower-decked table, and by contrast with Sylvia

s rudeness he looked after Melanie with almost old-fashioned courtesy and attentiveness. He saw to it that her champagne glass was replenished when even Richard did not seem to notice that of all his guests she was the one who was eating practically nothing, and drinking less. And afterwards, when the orchestra struck up its bright, lilting dance music, it was Dr. Muller who asked Melanie to dance, while Tony Malpas partnered Noel. Sylvia, making the excuse of overwhelming exhaustion after her flight, and her gruelling last few weeks in England—

So devastating, my dear, those continuous rehearsals, but the play is absolutely wonderful!

—preferred to sit and talk to Richard at the table, and apparently Richard preferred to sit and talk to her, too, for he never once asked Melanie or his niece to dance.

And when the room grew hot and a trifle stu
f
fy he took Sylvia out on to the balcony, and Melanie watched them go with a feeling that

Finis

had indeed been written to her period of brief holiday—if you could call it that!—and that in future her position would be right in the background so far as Richard and his glamorous Sylvia were concerned,

But Dr. Muller, as if to try and make up to her for the loss of something which he read in her eyes, was gentleness itself, and he continued to pay her every possible attention. Whenever she looked into his eyes, honest and brown and reliable even as were her own, she knew that if she was willing to accept it he was ready to offer her something which would make it unnecessary for her to yearn for the brief notice of another—but she knew also that she could not accept it!

But she liked Dr. Muller very much.

Presently he said, when her spirits seemed to be flagging so badly that there was little he could do to bolster them,

If you

re tired, I

ll take you home, you know. And I think that child Noel has had about enough for one night, too.

Melanie accepted his offer gratefully, and they despatched a message of thanks and farewell to their host by means of a waiter. He was still sitting with Sylvia on the balcony when he received it, and he seemed a little surprised. But not so Sylvia.


Don

t be obtuse, darling,

she murmured, laughing.

That handsome young doctor is already head over heels in love with Miss Brooks, and if he wants to take her home, why, let him! In any case, why not?

But Richard frowned as he reached for his cigarette-case, and he did not echo her

Why not?

Instead he said a little irritably,

Well, tell me some more about the play. Is it really going as well as you think, I wonder? And if so, why do you need me there
?


Because, my pet,

she replied to that earnestly, looking up into his face with eyes like green starshine,

I
always
need you there! Surely you know that?

And Richard looked down at her and studied her reflectively in the light of a waning moon.

 

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE following morning Melanie had three visitors. The first, in the person of Kurt Muller, came almost immediately after breakfast, and he explained that he was going in to Selt
z
burg, their nearest town of any size, and that as he was likely to be away for a few days he had wanted to see her before he left.


To discuss your young charge, for one thing,

he told her.

When I come back I

d like to have her up at the clinic for perhaps a week to keep her under closer observation than is possible while she is here.


Why?

Melanie asked at once, concerned.

There

s nothing wrong?

Other books

Water Like a Stone by Deborah Crombie
The Boy Who Plaited Manes by Nancy Springer
Tote Bags and Toe Tags by Dorothy Howell
Night Soldiers by Alan Furst
Inner Legacy by Douglas Stuart
The Bad Things by Mary-Jane Riley
The DNA of Relationships by Gary Smalley, Greg Smalley, Michael Smalley, Robert S. Paul