Walter nodded, and as he accepted the teacup, reflecting a little distantly on the past few weeks. There had been few fleeting moments at Perennial's office´s on this spring term when Walter felt that Dorian's thoughts were somewhere completely elsewhere, than the proofreading he was working on.
Walter never said anything, as Dorian looked out of the window dreamily, his narrow fingers stained in ink. Saunders rushed everywhere, and was furious, as Dorian had left fingerprints on the mock-copy, but Walter found himself very fond of his editor, despite his temper, as he was brilliant in his work.
And Walter knew that with Saunder´s experience he had now a new insights of how magazines were run, and even more things to put on his letters to Ken. A few almost sleepless days later, the magazine was fortunately finalized, and the content was well-groomed, and Saunders was pleased.
And when the magazine went to print, Walter had been left with Dorian and Saunders to drink tea, for Saunders had said, "Listen Blythe, even if you're from some teetotaler island, try this." He had offered a glass of something, and there had been a riotous gleam of merriment in Dorian´s eyes, as he had toasted with his own glass. As a result, the next morning Walter felt like that he was on his way to perdition, and all the sounds around him had been too loud, and his skin seemed to shrink to a few sizes. Fortunately, that state of being had disappeared within a few hours, and the next morning Walter had woken up with bright eyes to receive a new morning, with no accidents in it yet, as his mother had often said, to them in their salad days.
Smiling remotely, Walter returned from his Perennial memories with a light start, noticing that the girls had moved to the living room side.
Di sat on the couch, and Alice next to her. The afternoon light glowed in the girls hair, reddish-golden nimbus of flaming color. Stretching and smiling, Walter got up and said, "I wish you a peaceful and busy evening for you, both of you." Di laughed briskly, and airily lightly, and Alice waved her finger with the thimble, it gleamed in the light, and as he left Primrose Hollow, he heard that the both of girls voices were lowered in confidently manner, and sudden rush of gladness were fierce in him. Maybe Di could crack the code of that herbal tea, as memory of that evening in Autum, still haunted him, sometimes, like a song in minor key, even after all this time.
One evening in spring few weeks later, Walter was once again on his aimless wandering walks, and he noticed that Dorian and Alice were peacefully sitting together near pond, there grew wild bluebells, and scillas in glorious profusion. Alice's hair shone more golden than before, against the bright blue of the scilla flower, that she had crowned herself with. Slowly he nodded, to Alice, as she turned her gaze towards him, and a small smile blossomed on to her flowery features. Dorian said "Walt, join us, isn't this spring evening glamorous?"
And contentedly, Walter watched the glowing blue sky where small soft clouds were hovering. There was lovely sense of spring in the evening, full of tender whispers and swallows. So full of spring charm, Walter crossed his arms, and quoted John Clare
The Spring comes in with all her hues and smells,
In freshness breathing over hills and dells;
O'er woods where May her gorgeous drapery flings,
And meads washed fragrant by their laughing springs.
Fresh are new opened flowers, untouched and free
Dorian's eyes flashed and he smiled and quoted the end of the same poem
The flowers join lips below; the leaves above.
And every sound that meets the ear is Love.
All the while he was looking closely at Alice, who was sitting a short distance away, sewing cross-stitch work with the quickest stitches. Walter said to Dorian, "Alice might look like a fairy queen, but she is not one." Alice took the small scissors from her craft basket and cut with a quick, efficient gesture across the thread, which was like a silent cry.
Afterwards, Alice collected the blanket in her basket, and Walter carried it, as Alice woved with nimble fingers flower crowns for all of them. So in companioble silence, they walked slowly. And soon at a crossroads a car, black and shiny, curved along the road, on which Dorian went to sit, and he said calmly, imperiously to the driver "Thompson to home, please." The bluish exhaust smelled bitter in the bright rippling air, and Walter said, "Dorian is regualr little Colin Craven, sometimes, do you think so too, Alice?"Alice glanced at the car that turned the corner and said, "And Gardiner Hall could be Misslewhite Manor, though I haven't been there, so I don't know."
Few weeks passed.
The time of final exams, and submitting essays in fog-like trance of studying, returning various books to libraries, spending a few dreamy hours by the piano of the music library, in exalted solitude, he practiced the notes he bought from the antique shop, the music was so beautiful, it almost hurt, and then there was, the second charity night of Redmond.
It was held at the gazebo.
The area was surrounded by a romantic-looking mossy stone wall with small sandy paths, a wide lawn, and rows of fragrant, rampant, shrubs, of lilacs, heaps of them, shades variated between pale lilac, to dark purple, and purest white. Their haunting, wistfull and not at all chaste scent, lingered like some half-remembered dream, and Walter took one white bloom, and placed it in his buttonhole.
Slightly nervous, Walter jerked Ken's cufflinks, and tied a scarf of Tadzio´s around his neck, and Alice was standing calmly beside him. She was dressed in simple white silk dress, and she had few blooms of lilacs twined in her hair.
The flowery, blooming, verdant nature shone in the counterpoint to the women in the afternoon sun with glowing jewelry, Walter wondered again why women had such impossible hats, but especially in spring. There was resounding echo of a brass Gong and the voice of Redmond's Dean echoed in the crowd surrounding the gazebo.
"Welcome all distinguished guests. Redmond students, some alumni, and trustees, to another charity evening. There is champagne on the tables, and a little British-style snack´s on offer, and remember everyone to make donations to the war effort, there are ballot-boxes, for that purpose. A couple of weeks ago, we all read reports of the Battle of Hill 60 in Ypres. I urge all, let's have a quiet moment, in honor of our boys fighting on the Western Front, even now, this very moment in Festubert."
Dean's words struck deep into the audience. Professor Milne was pale, and with one sip he drank his glass. There where serious-looking people in their suits, the faculty of Redmond, frock coats, and tails, and robes, as well as a few young men in their uniforms, had gathered around the podium, an outdoor stage with a piano, everyone looked grave and very worried.
Royal Gardiner tasted too warm champagne as the fine featured, blackhaired son of his Titian goddess arrived on the podium, and next to him walked the girl, Alice, of whom Dorian spoke unceasingly. She adressed the crowd in sure, confindent manner, with regal tone."Greetings to all! We would like to give our thanks to Professor Milne, who suggested in the fall that I and Walter Blythe perform here today. It was interesting to put this small program together, old favorites and new popular tunes, mixed in, with a small dash of poetry."The flowers and leaves of hackberry and lilac shrub´s created shadows over her, like the lace of shadows, the impression was very poetic, and subtle. And then she started to sing.
Skillfully, soothingly and radiantly. The music glowed like waves, like the moonlight, like a glimpse, from the underwater world, romantic, glamorous, and blazingly beautiful, naturally it was Elgar, the composer with lovely sentiments, and pure poetry in his music.
When night is deep, and moon is high,
That music seeks and finds me still,
And tells me where the corals lie.
And tells me where the corals lie.
Music sparkeld in the bright air, sweet, and romantic, and Royal noticed that Alice smiled at Anne's son, mischievously, but in earnest way, as she sung another piece.
They say if you kiss the right sweetheart
The one you've been waiting for
Big blossoms of white will burst into sight
And your love will be true evermore.
The voice of the pale girl shone soft and dark fruity, like the best French brandy. And then Anne's son got up from the piano and wiped his black hair from his forehead, with the same gesture that was familiar to Royal even from the curl of his wrist. The boy did not resemble his mother, unlike his sister, that redhaired one, the dark one, was pretty, and smooth, with a razor intellect gleaming in her large hazel eyes, Blythe´s eyes, but his gestures and the appealing gaze of the large eyes were like his mothers, when she had been hesitant.
The boy, Walter touched a shimmering, rather beautiful silk scarf around his neck, and his eyes suddenly shone like the morning stars and in a soft voice he uttered, "I don't usually perform, even though I play piano. As some of you know I write, some of my work can be found on the pages of Perennial. Here is a small piece of poetry, to mark this occasion."The soft, calm tone of piano glowed as Walter Blythe played, and once again Alice's voice overwhelmed, audience like enchantment.
There was lighthouse,
in July moonlight as the waves melted into sand.
The flag was raised,
it fluttered in the morning wind.
Canadian boys, all over hearing a transcendental call,
glowing, in the newspapers, in telegrams.
A new time has come,
a new time is now.
the old order is broken
the clock
shows, old time
the time before August 1914
calmly I turn the clock to a new era.
The applause was stormy, and the boys in uniform cheered loudly. Royal glanced at them, a little irritated, as the cheering ruined the dignity of the event. He was handed a full glass of champagne, and this time its temperature was perfect. The young men in uniform threw flowers at Alice, and Walter, and some of them talked in a low voice to Anne's son as he descended from the podium.
Dorian had appeared next to Alice, he too was dressed in cream today, with a sapphire-necktie. Forehead wrinkled, Royal glanced at his son, his heir. Throughout the spring, Dorian had been completely impossible, looking dreamily out the window, and reading poetry, and books that taught the basics of needel and lace craft. His son, sewing lace, utterly absurd, and ridiculous pastime!
Thompson had sometimes driven Dorian to various natural sites from which, on his return, he had glowed, and smelled of grass, and wild herbs, and not of precious perfumes, or oils as before. Alice turned, smoothly and curtisied, in a flauntingly gracefull way as she smiled at Dorian, and said something in a low voice to him. Then Alice walked toward the stone fence, that boardered the property.
Royal, straightened his Medusa tie-pin, and went gracefully after her. Above the stone fence grew lush broad Mayday tree that grew evenly spaced around the area, as rampant shrubs, with its fragrant, sweet honey scent and that had a bite on it, white flowers, and narrow leaves were trembling in the wind, creating mysterious shadows on the sandy path. Royal approached the blond girl dressed in white. She was like the spirit of the forest, only white, and gold, and in a soft, silky voice he said, "You rejected my offer, my darling. Yet I find that you spend time with my son, or he spends time with you. On the other hand, your distant style works quite well, it's interesting, and very captivating, and inflaming. All kinds of arrangements can be made."
The face in front of him was as white as the flowers around them.
Her large violet eyes were very dark, as if stirred by some emotion, and then there was distant and very coldly formal whisper. "Mr. Gardiner. If your son really wants to court me, he should ask question himself. "
Royal's eyes flashed, and he struggled to keep his voice calm, "Dorian is a dreamer. He doesn't always think about the future. But you are truly extremely delightful, especially in half-shadow, like now." The girl looked appealingly at Royal, and with a quick gesture, he removed with one finger the pale flowers that looked like a Trinity cluster, as they adorned her neck. And bowing down gracefully, Royal pressed a light kiss to Alice's gloved hand. The color varied lightly on girl's face, and her hand seemed to shake a little.
Suddenly there was a cry, nearby. "Roy, Gardiner, where you are? Your expertise is needed to resolve a dispute." Gracefully Royal nodded at Alice, and turned away. And Royal´s mind was once again full of business things, and useful connextions to be made and bargains to be struck. So with a light hum, he walked away, from the fence in brisk efficent steps, toward his collegues, and he did not forget the girl, but she was no longer as important to him, as few moments before, the tension of the moment had been very thrilling.
Walter had been looking for Alice for several moments.
Walter found Dorian, near the gazebo, he was sitting on an iron bench, looking impatient. Dorian was very good at looking regally impatient.
Dorian nodded to Walter and said "Alice went for a walk to the stone wall some time ago because she loves the bird cherry and lilac season as you probably know. She hasn't come back yet, and I can't go looking for her, the terrain is too uneven there."
Soon Thompson in uniform appeared next to Dorian, and he took the young man to a familiar black car, a Ford.
Walter walked slowly in the direction indicated by Dorian. There was the most romantic stone fence, under a large bush bursting with flowers. Alice stood alone, looking in front of her with unseen eyes, as Walter walked closer, and the gravel made small rustling noise under his shoes. It aroused Alice from her thoughts, and she straightened her neck, with a slender gesture. Few moments passed, in mutual silence, among the whispering frolicking wind.
Then she softly, asked "I find that I need something right now, as you always seem to have poetry fragments in your fingertips. So please, delight me." Walter smiled gently at her gathered his thoughts, and uttered a verse by Blake in a whisper.
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And Eternity in an hour.
The verse seemed to relax Alice, the innerlaying tension disappeared from her being, as Walter and Alice stepped from the shadows into the light. Across the lawn, woman laughed, and Royal Gardiner raised his glass, in the direction of Alice. Walter noticed how the girl's cheeks narrowed and her delicate hand bowed into a fist as she whispered, "Dear friend, I notice that a golden cage is being built around me, whether I wanted it, or not. These circles are like a sticky spider's web, so it looks like your nickname, for me, has been some kind of omen. Or maybe it was that poetry fragment by Blake that I embroidered, it haunts me. "
"Well soon we're in Glen and Lowbridge, it gives perspective, for many I think, Walter pondered musingly as he glanced around him the varied crowd, after a small silence he continued in soft tone. "And who knows what the coming days will bring. Rilla's letters have been full of Glen's concert for the benefit of the Belgians, which is coming soon. Rilla my Rilla is on the organizing committee and has a few big roles that night, and she wrote that Irene Howard is now in the Red Cross youth department of Lowbridge. Do you know her Alice?"
"Irene Howard. Isn't she blonde girl who takes singing lessons every winter in Charlottetown?"Alice asked in hesitant tone. Walter nodded, as he said
" She is, talented I suppose, but somehow too cloying like too sweet cup of tea. Do you know that you are like violet near Rainbow Valley, even dressed in white as you are now." Alice's light laughter echoed in the shimmering, fragrant evening. The bright, soft lush evening was over, and Redmond's second charity evening had been a unequal success.
Kingsport glowed with the greenery of spring. Slowly sun, set in the sea, as the swans flew near the gazebo, curving, and descending into their own pond, with silent wings.