Fordham's Feud

Standing there among the narcissus, gazing around upon the radiant scenes spread in lustrous splendour about her, she made a wondrously beautiful picture. Her eyes shone with a light of gladness, and the normally calm regularity of the patrician features had given way to a slight flush of eagerness which was infinitely winsome. But as her glance suddenly met that of another the glad light vanished as by magic, yielding place to a look of vexation, coldness, reserve. She had been surprised in the midst of a rhapsody – taken off her guard.

But as though he read her thoughts, Philip Orlebar was not the man to add to her discomfiture. He was thoroughbred, aux bouts des ongles, and with all his lightheadedness and devil-may-care jollity, was endowed with tact beyond the endowment of most Englishmen —young Englishmen at any rate.

“Good morning, Miss Wyatt,” he said, snatching the pipe from between his teeth. “Out among the narcissus already, I see. Just what I’ve been doing myself – though, as a rule, flower gathering isn’t much in my line. I only pick up an extra fine blossom now and again as I stroll along, which may account for the meagreness of my bunch,” exhibiting a small handful containing some dozen of stalks. “But you – you have got a grand bouquet.”

The unaffectedness of his address, the breezy lightheadedness of his tone, was not without its influence even upon her. The gravity of her reserve melted into a smile.

“They are so lovely,” she answered; “I couldn’t remain indoors a moment longer.”

“Just the state of the case with me. Surprising how great minds always jump together. But to be serious, I believe the blossoms up above there are larger than these. Some one or other in the hotel told me I ought to go and look at them, and I did,” added mendacious Phil. “That lazy dog, Fordham, wouldn’t move – planted himself at the end of a pipe in a cane chair in one of those arbours. I couldn’t stand that, so I started a stroll in a small way. Let me carry those for you.” And in a twinkling he had possessed himself of the two huge bunches of narcissus which she had gathered.

“Thanks. It’s a shame to burden you, though. Isn’t this a beautiful place?”

“Rather. Old Fordham is enthusiastic about it, and I don’t much wonder. He knows it well, you see. I never was here before in my life, but now I am here I’m in no hurry to move on. There are some grand walks and first-rate climbs to be had. You were saying last night you were looking forward to that sort of thing. I hope we shall be able to show you the way about a little. We must make up a party for a climb somewhere before this splendid weather changes. Fordham is worth any round dozen of guides.”

“But – we can hardly lay your friend’s good-nature under such a heavy contribution,” she said, with a queer little smile.

“Oh, can’t we! Old Fordham is the best fellow in the world – only wants knowing a bit. He’ll do anything he’s asked.”

That queer smile broadened round Alma’s lips. She had sat opposite the now eulogised Fordham during the whole of dinner-time; and, be it remembered, she was given to studying character. But she said nothing, and by this time they had regained the hotel.

A cool fountain was playing in the terraced garden in front of the promenoir, shooting high in the air and falling back into its basin in a shower of scattering diamond drops. Beside this, leaning on an alpenstock, a big meerschaum in his mouth, stood General Wyatt.

“Well, Alma. Been ravaging the narcissus fields?” he said, as they came up. “But what on earth will you do with all that lot? A trifle too strong, won’t it be, for any ordinary-sized room?”

“I don’t think so, uncle. Why, in England people would give anything for such magnificent blossoms as these, and here we are already beginning to think them nothing very great. But I’ll go and put them in water for the present.”

“Well, don’t be long, dear, or we sha’n’t get our walk,” he called after her.

“Grand day, General?” said Philip, re-lighting his pipe.

“It is, indeed. By the bye, since I’ve heard your name, are you in any way related to Francis Orlebar – Sir Francis he is now?”

“Rather closely. He happens to be my father. Did you know him well?”

“You don’t say so! Well, well! It’s a small world, after all. Know him well? I should think I did. I was some years his senior though, and he wasn’t long in the service. But that must have been before you were born.”

“And have you never met since, General?”

“Only once – just about the time he got into that – er – ah.” And the old man, remembering who he was talking to, suddenly pulled himself up and launched forth into a tremendous sneeze. The slip was not lost upon Phil, but he came to the rescue promptly.

“Think we are like each other, General?” he said.

“N-no! Don’t know though. There is a likeness. You’re the finer built fellow of the two – taller and broader. Bless my soul, though, but the world is a small one. To think of Frank Orlebar’s son turning up in this way?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting, General Wyatt,” said a feminine and tentative voice. “Your niece was saying last night she was a perfect stranger here, and we thought she might like to go with us. We are going to the Cubly. It isn’t far, and we shall be back to lunch. We hope you will come too.”

The speaker was one of the two girls who had passed our friends in the Gorge du Chauderon. Phil had already made a little conversation with her the evening before. So now she turned and extended the invitation to him. He gladly accepted, while the General answered for Alma and himself that nothing would give them greater pleasure. And at that moment Alma reappeared and they started. The Miss Ottleys were pleasant well-bred girls of artistic tastes and plenty of conversation, and the walk promised to be a success.

We shall not, however, follow the party to the pine-crowned height sheering up from the vine-clad slopes immediately behind Montreux, nor share in the magnificent panorama which it affords. Sufficient to say that at the end of three hours they returned, in the highest spirits and on the best of terms with themselves and each other. In such free and easy fashion are acquaintanceships formed and often consolidated into friendships, amid the pleasant unconventionally of life in mountain hotels.

Chapter Five

Fordham Philosophises

“I say, Fordham. We’re getting up an expedition for to-morrow, and you’ve got to come,” cried Phil, bursting into his friend’s room just before dinner one evening.

“Have I?” replied the latter leisurely, turning round with a half-soaped visage, and razor arrested in mid-air. “But, Phil, it’s rather lucky you didn’t swoop down in such hurricane method upon a more nervous man than yours truly, or it’s wildly hunting for sticking plaster he’d be at this moment. And now, for my enlightenment, who’s we?”

“Oh, the Ottleys and the Wyatts and one or two more. We want to start early, cross the lake by steamer and get as far up that valley on the other side as we can.”

“To Novèl? Yes, and then?”

“Why then we are going to charter a boat and row back in the cool of the evening.”

“Not a bad scheme. Who do you say are going, beside the inseparables?”

“One of the Miss Milnes – the pretty one – and that fellow Scott.”

“Scott, the devil-dodger?”

“Yes. The Ottleys have asked him. I can’t think why, for he’s a rank ‘outsider.’”

“Most of the ‘shepherds’ appointed to administer ‘Dearly beloved brethren’ to their countrywomen in this otherwise favoured land are, my dear chap. But it’s all the better for you. He can take the two Ottley nymphs off your hands while you offer latria to the fair Inkermann – no Alma – I beg your pardon.”

“But – but hang it, that’s just what the beggar won’t do,” blurted Phil in desperation. “Fact is he’s always in the way, and really it’s contemptible, you know; but what’s to be done with a cad like that, who ignores a snub that another fellow would knock you down for – or try to? You’ll come along, old man, won’t you?”

“Let’s see. There’s the General, he’s too old and don’t count. Then there’s yourself and the parson; and they want a third donkey – I mean beast of burden. Two won’t be enough to sling all the panniers they’ll want along. I’m afraid, Phil, you mustn’t count upon me, unless you can manage to supply the missing steed first.”

“Bosh, Fordham! You won’t be wanted to carry anything.”

“Not, eh? Let’s see again. Four females – that means eight wraps, putting it at the lowest computation. Add to that the delicate creatures’ rations – for you can’t get anything eatable or drinkable at Novèl – and sunshades, which they must have for crossing the lake, don’t you know, and which they’ll discard directly they begin to walk. And there’s all the amateur-commissionaire business into the bargain. No, no, Phil. Having given the matter my most careful consideration, I regret to say that I am unable to undertake it – as the publisher said when he ‘chucked’ the budding author’s MS.”

“You old savage! If you weren’t shaving I’d ‘chuck’ all the boots and bolsters in the room at your head.”

“Well, I’ve done now, so you can begin. But, I say, Phil,” he went on, tranquilly, “how long have we been here?”

Philip Orlebar’s handsome head was well through the open window at that moment. His friend therefore found it necessary to repeat the question.

“Eh – what? How long? Oh, about ten days, haven’t we?”

“I believe we have,” rejoined the other in the same silky tone. “And, my dear boy, doesn’t it strike you that you are getting on ra-ather rapidly?”

“No. Why?”

“Nothing. Only that even the charm of my improving conversation does not avail to keep your head within that window, when some inexplicable instinct – for you couldn’t possibly have seen her – warns you that your divinity is on the terrace below. And yet, in a few minutes more you will be seated by her side for at least an hour – such being unfortunately the length of table d’hôte, and after that may safely be counted upon to pass the residue of the evening not a hundred yards apart from her by any means.”

“Well, I’m only one of a crowd then,” retorted Philip, with a dash of irritation. “Those confounded Ottley girls are always on hand – a good deal too much so.”