Shimmering fragments winter sun, in the shade of cooled honey glinted frosted windows, of Primrose Hollow. Di was curled up in armchair, and she cradled a cup of tea, dark and steeped, a fragrant cinnamon roll, was on a plain plate, between small bites Di eagerly read her brother's letter, it had a come long way, international mail, with official stamps.
Dear Doss!
Suddenly, I wanted to reach across this geographical distance, so I prosaically grabbed paper and ink. You probably are in Primrose Hollow, maybe cooking, or sewing vermin shirts, or dreaming in front of crackling friendly fireplace. Maybe Alice is with you, and your laughter mingles with each other, so that it resembles the tinkling of distant harps.
A time before this reality of frozen fields of blood, smoke, and death where I´am, but the routines of army are comforting, in their sameness. The worst thing here is the noise, the endless hum, and when it's quiet I'm just waiting for the commotion to start again. Sometimes the officers distribute rum to us, for encouragement and warmth. I give my portion to others, for rum makes my head turn, I´ve found.
After the usual obligations, and when there is free time, I and a few others toil at the trench magazine, and I have been put in charge of the literature section. A lot of its contents comes from soldiers, poems and jokes, from which I choose the best, there are quite clever cartoons as well, slight satirical pieces.
Sometimes I also try to write something of my own, but the verses don't come. I hope that your work at Perennial is blooming.
Your loving brother
Walter.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and curiously, Di grabbed the thick shawl around her shoulders and opened the door. Standing on the snowy steps was a man in a dark uniform who Di recognized as Thompson, Gardiner's chauffeur and Dorian's trusted right-hand man. In his authoritative, somewhat stiff manner, Thompson nodded, and said "Young Mr. Gardiner wanted that I carried Mr. Blythe's package to you, as soon as it arrived, as well as these invitations. Have a good day, Miss."
The invitations were printed on fine paper, they smelled faintly of jasmine, Di carefully opened worn box filled with french stamps, and Di held up a small stack of books to the light, she and gently caressed the hard spines of the books with her fingers. The hours passed, slowly, the wood in the fireplace burned to reddish black embers. Di found herself being immersed in the mystical, somewhat dreamy and brilliant verses, of one poetrybook, there had been a note between the first page, written in Walter´s hurried hand. Doss! I found this book by accident, and I hope you enjoy it, because its verses may speak to your soul. – W
Soon there were a small clatter on the doorway, as Alice and Nan arrived, both of them were carrying paper bags of groceries. Nan in her clever way, spotted the invitations that Di had placed on the small side table. Nan´s large hazel eyes twinkled lightly, and she said "So you get to experience how the other side lives. Remember, Di when Mumsy told us, about her visits to Phil Gordon's childhood home, she especially remembered the garden, and the roses. Remember to enjoy it, and tell me all about it afterwards." But for some strange reason Alice's face was expressionless, and some spark of emotion made her large violet eyes glow, and in a quiet voice she said "Dorian wrote me yesterday, and he asked us, Di and I to come for a visit day before, so maybe we should start packing. "
And feeling a bit worried Di glanced at Nan as Alice slipped into the stairwell and Nan remarked " Do you know anything about this upcoming party?" Di said lightly, " I think it, is some kind of annual tradition every February, last year wasn't held. At least Dorian is excited, in his own way, his very Walter-esque style, which is very comforting and somewhat amusing, that our brother found in Redmond a friend whose manners reminds me of him."
Nan nodded, as eagerly she stormed over to the small stack of books, they were laid on the table, and with amusement Di watched as Nan carefully examined each volume, her touch was delicate, and soft, and finally Nan looked up and smiled, saying "Our brother is always a romantic, though he may try to deny it , that selection makes that abundantly clear."
A couple of days passed in the usual hustle and bustle, of Red Cross duties and lectures, and then it was time. Thompson was waiting for them, and gracefully he carried their suitcases to the car. Faith and Nan were waving handkerchiefs, on the front steps as the black car sped off. Excitement had brought a small blush to Di's features, and she looked very stylish in her blue-overcoat, but Alice could only feel a quiet creeping panic that only increased the closer she got to Gardiner Hall.
Glimmering snowdrifts surrounded house standing on a small hill. Gardiner Hall, was a romantic building, extremely beautiful, fair and graceful, like a woman admiring herself in a mirror in the morning light. Well-kept narrow sandy passages lined with rose and honeysuckle bushes, in the springtime, and in autum, glowing red wild vine climbed the walls of the house, and pigeons cooed, in their den.
A day earlier, Alice Parker and Di Blythe had finally come to visit Gardiner Hall. Dorian remembered the wonder that flashed on Di's face as she wandered in the rooms, and the hall decorated with colorful frescoes. Finally tour had ended at the library. The large, light filled library, with its Willam Morris inspired textiles, on the walls that were not covered with sugar maple bookshelfs. In this room Dorian had spent the dearest hours of his childhood, sitting on the verdant couch, and reading through shelves, and looking at his distorted reflection through colored windows, in jewel tones, as seasons changed, from autumn to spring, and languild summer, and winter, it´s fierce sting.
Alice had only smiled feebly, and the fair delicate girl's form had seemed to be, somehow veiled. Dorian had noticed how Di had spoken in a low voice, to Alice, as she stood in one corner of the room, dressed in a pale rose-red embroidered dress. Alice had come with gliding steps to Dorian, and said softly "It really is incredibly beautiful here, like a fairyland, but unfortunately, I have a migraine so I can't join you and Mr. Royal Gardiner for dinner tonight, so I´ll see you tomorrow. "
Gardiner Hall was quiet, only shadows lingered in the corridors. One room was decorated with paneled wood, it was a very masculine room, with deep royal blule curtains, full of dark oak, and fine furnishings, and a large table, with ledgers piled high on it. Royal Gardiner lit his second cigar of the evening, and with an almost steady hand he had poured himself a splash of whiskey into a crystal glass. With one step, Royal went to the chest of drawers in the corner, and opened the top drawer. There was a small photograph, of a blond woman with reddish blond curls, and pale green eyes, and a triple string of baroque pearls around her neck, she was dressed in a forthy pale amber dress, deep neckline was cut off from alabaster pale shoulders. Light laughter seemed to be shining in the green eyes, which woman had left as a legacy to her only son. Royal, looked at the photo in silence, and then he whispered " Temptations are everywhere, as is common in our circles, forbidden, hidden pleasures twined in with business deals, and banquets. Valentine, today the daughter of my former love arrived here, at Gardiner Hall, she is just like she, but not, and it is strange, like falling, a vertigo of dizziness."
A small beam of light shone on the features of the woman in the photograph, and with a sudden movement the top drawer closed, with a small glint. Royal drank his whiskey, and buried old half-forgotten Redmond memories of Patty´s place, of Anne reciting Tennyson, in the living room, flash of light in her delicate features, in hard work of ledgers, and figures, of shipment costs, and cut-throat deals. There were much to be gained in war, the profits were booming.
A light golden laughter shimmered, from somewhere, in upper floor, and for a moment delicately art nouveau-esque glamour, of brick and mortar, glass and iron, of Gardiner Hall seemed to lighten, like a garden refreshed after a rain. In the left wing of the house, was a room called the rose-red room. There were two suitcases on the soft carpet, and Alice reclined on small divan, in artlessly careless manner. Di looked at her in silence, and finally she said "Do you really have a migraine or was that just a diplomatic headache?" Alice glanced at Di and, in an almost inaudible voice, she whispered "This is all somehow too much, this setting, and the atmosphere, just like a golden cage. The carelessness of the upper class when there is bloody fighting on the Western Front. What are we really doing here, darling Di?"
Di smiled fondly and said "So it was diplomatic headache, then. You missed wonderful spread, though. We're here because this is Dorian's home, and because we were invited here. Tomorrow at the ball Alice, you can avoid Dorian, or even all the Gardiner family, if you like. I'll plan to write a scathing analysis of the evening for the next issue of the Perennial, covered in a social column full of wim and quirks of the things that we see here tomorrow."
Sun had risen, it colored Di´s hair with burning fire, as Di slumbered next to Alice, in that too opulent room, its walls were wallpapered with pale rose-red silk, and the old-fashioned furniture was lined in harmony. There were silver toiletries on the dressing table, as if the room's previous owner would be coming back soon. A sleepy and slightly grumpy Di remarked, " Breakfast will be soon, thankfully. I need at least a pint of tea to feel human again." After luxiourious breakfast, hot toast, marmalade, fresh eggs, and tea, excited Dorian had remarked "I asked the servants to bring out a few bags of clothes that have been hanging in the attic, they are often aired out so they are fine, if you find something suitable then by all means wear it, Alice and Di too, although you both look beautiful even if you come tonight in the clothes that you brought with you. This ball is a masquarade."
Royal Gardner looked impatient, hearing his son's speech, and he had, in a graceful manner, broken piece of toast, and remarked, "Of course, you are both welcome to go up to the attic, if the servants selections do not suit your tastes. There's all kinds of things there, and it doesn't matter at all what you find, or where. Until this evening, then, ladies. Dorian, remember dances begin at about seven, in the grand hall, I´m expecting you to be greeting guests promptly, no dreaming or hiding in the library. "
Alice noted that Dorian was paler than usual, and he looked tired, but his light green eyes were bright, even though there were dark purple shadows under them. He was elegantly dressed, as always, in a burgundy coat, and a pale lilac shirt, with a turquoise blue scarf around his neck, and straight black trousers, but a shadow had crossed his features, at Royal Gardiner´s slightly brusque words.
Dorian laughed ruefully and said "When I was younger I hid in the library, and the servants had to look for me, or I drew sketches of strangers, or secretly read a book of poetry in my pocket. Adeline was not at all pleased, but Dorothy understood, I think, as she always slipped into my pocket candied almonds. But, we all must some time put away childish things, and dreams and grow up. As the heir, I have my duty to entertain, even if I would do something else, rather. So until evening, dear friends." With a slight bow Dorian slowly walked across the breakfast-room, and Thompson opened the door for him.
The servants carried flower arrangements, pale calla lilies and orchids, of different hues, from the inner greenhouse to the ballroom, and Dorian watched with satisfaction as the arrangements progressed. Excitedly Dorian adjusted his emerald-green tie, and with one hand he smoothed his, plum colored waistcoat. The first guests were already walking across the yard covered with soft, blowing snow, and Thompson opened the large double doors, to the hall. A light marble staircase with a light honey and cream color scale, patterned stencil of pale intricate flowers, rose up on the walls, the stair railing was light, and graceful, the color of pale cinquefoil; it was a copy of designer Victor Hortia's staircase, one of the masters of Art Noveau. Dorian straightened and picked up his canes and stepped inside, into the ballroom, and walked across the shiny toffee-colored, slightly honey-scented floor to the small dais where Royal, Adeline, and Dorothy were already standing, there was his chair. Dorian nodded to his aunts and father who calmly glanced at him, a small smile in his dark blue eyes as he said, "You look very elegant, Dorian." Royal´s initialed signet ring glowed in the light, and his tailcoat bow was pale purple silk, and around him there was light hint of Havana cigars, and a whisper of soft French brandy.
Orchestra was tuning its instruments, the beautiful note of violins were glowing. Slowly the ballroom began to fill up. There were Redmond university lecturers, and staff, industrialists, money men, with their wives, and the entire editorial board of Perennial. The ballroom, it was large, and the shades of honey and cream continued, and one wall was entirely of large windows, where elaborate stained glass panes reflected the lights from a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. A light scent of champagne and perfumes were lingering in the air.
Di stroked her soft, silky mint green empire dress with one hand, her red hair glistened, in the light, she had done it up in a loose Gibson Girl style bun, with a few purple orchid flowers attached, and a dragonfly comb, glimmered at the back of her head. Alice stood next to Di, her dress, it was a glowing in a pale amber color, and her hair was done up, in a loose cascade of curls, held together by handful of pins, one of them, was Walter´s gift to her.
Alice saw that Dorian sat, in a padded chair poised, and very bored, but hiding it, well like his is namesake. Some of Royal Gardiner's associates were standing near the whiskey decanters, with a haze of cigar smoke around them. A colorfully dressed crowd, in masquarade Commedia del arte style clothes, mixed with Pre-Raphaelites were mingling near other side of a small doorway. There was a long buffet table, with delicacies, pies, and salads and of all sorts. On the other side of the table there was champagne in freezing cold containers, and a pot of tea, and sandwiches in silver tray. A large vases contained various flowers, and ferns. In regular intervals servants replaced the dishes with fresh produce, and there was a sound of laughter as jubliant and hungry crowd feasted, with relish.
Suddenly a hoarse, irritated voice said near Di, "Blythe, you are here, wonderful. This house is labyrinthine, and its redecoration almost ruined Royal Gardiner, some twenty years ago, although he has turned losses into profits, and succeeds, and it almost seems like one successful contract after another, strange, that. Although it must be said that Gardiner knows how to organize decent parties, although the timing is unlucky, but you will probably take that into account in your future work." And with a crooked smile, and nod towards Alice, Editor Simmons, smoothed his worn tailcoat, and disappeared into the crowd of many top hats, leaving behind him the smell of hair oil, cigar, and ink that always trailed in a light mist in his wake.
Dorian smiled happily, as he saw Di and Alice approach, but Royal Gardiner had turned pale. Adeline looked for a moment at the slim girls standing before her, and then she said in a low melodious voice, "Welcome to Gardiner Hall, you are friends of dear Dorian, from that, so quaint college, that Royal went, years and years ago. And I see that my brother, has generously given permission to search the chests in the attic, especially that mint dress suits Miss Blythe perfectly, isn't it, so Dorothy? And Miss Parker's dress looks familiar, too and those pearls, well, well." Royal Gardiner glanced at young women in front of him and said, in his smooth tone "Miss Parker and Miss Blythe, how incredibly charming, isn't it Dorothy?" Dorothy Gardiner smiled and said lightly "Adeline do not be bore, you know very well that this place is musoleum. Roy, don't be such an incredible cliché, sometimes your compliments dear brother, are quite silly. My dears, remember to taste cake, it's excellent, and drink water, and dance if you like, for these nights are for youth, and dear Dorian, if you feel tired, call Thompson. " And quickly turning on her heel, Dorothy Gardiner escorted her siblings, Adeline in dark royal blue silk, and Royal in black tailcoat, to the other side of the ballroom. There she turned and waved her silk scarf to Dorian and Alice and Di, and then her slender figure in orange silk disappeared among the tailcoats.
Dorian smiled, and said in a slightly dramatic tone "Dear Alice and Di, that was my Aunt Adeline, at her best, usually she's worse than that, and Adeline's company makes my father a little arrogant too, as you see, and he loves giving compliments, but Aunt Dorothy is sweetheart. I hope with all my heart you'll enjoy yourself here tonight. "
The champagne glasses clattered, and the ice cubes melted into the glasses, and not before too long, one ´s business partners came to ask Di for a dance.
Suddenly Dorian's voice broke the peaceful silence that had fallen. "Sometimes I still curse God that I got into that accident. Otherwise I'd be fighting alongside Walter, in the front, and instead, of standing here as useless as that ornamental candle, over there. " Dorian bit his lip, and Alice got feeling that the young man was ashamed of his directness.
Orchestra played Strauss' Blue Danube waltz. In the crowded dance floor, Di turned in a half waltz-turn and curiously observed Alice and Dorian, as they seemed to be engrossed in a conversation. Di noted that Alice´s gestures and smile glowed with latent anxiety, as the light glinted in the triple baroque pearl-neclace, and Alice in her pale amber dress looked like a resplendent apparition.
Hours passed, and candles in the delicate candlesticks had congealed into passionately grotesque clumps. Alice was feeling very tired, of the endless smiling, she didn't dance, as she sat next to Dorian, and watched as the dancing people passed them by in an almost unbroken stream. The light flickered in the suits, and in the women's fancy dresses of various shades. Dorian and Di were engrossed listening in old cofidences and scandals, that Aunt Dorothy, told them in a whisper, as she had found out that Di wrote for Perennial. Servants had brought them in a tray pieces of a really excellent cake. After, cake and champange, Dorothy glanced at Alice, and noticed her strained smile and tired features, and she said "This crowd and the heat of this room, is getting too much for you, my dear, as you look a bit pale. Go for a walk, there are all kinds of wonders to be found here, in downstairs rooms, and curiosities, and the inner greenhouses, are marvel. I will hold the court here with dear Dorian, he is sweet, but sometimes clueless, of the strains of social occasions can be to us."
Di looked in Alice's direction, and saw her smile at Dorothy, the smile was like a slow blooming flower, and then she disappeared through the door, a light look of relief on her expressive face. Di met Dorothy Gardner's dark eyes, and Dorothy said thoughtfully "Di Blythe, you know, years ago in Redmond, my brother, were walking out, with a woman, who looked quite like you, her name was Anne Shirley, is she your mother by any chance?"
Di nodded and waited. After a moment of silence, Dorothy smiled a little sadly and said "I liked Anne very much, and she was always kind to me. I was young in those days, my hair in curls, and ringlets, and Adeline has always only cared about her own reputation. Your mother, she lightened my brother, and enlightened him to believe in life and his own possibilities, outside the customs of our circles." Dorothy shook her head and sighed lightly, and said as if to herself, "these circles are like a sticky spider's web." Laughter echoed in the room, and the light shone from the crystal chandeliers, and reflected from the large windows, it was still snowing.
Alice left bustling ballroom behind her, she contiued onwards, into hallway, past the wide marble topped stair-case. She opened one door. The room she was standing in was done in a pale greenish opal shade throughout, and in the center of it was an elaborate sofa decorated with baroque carvings. There was a dim light glowing from vine-patterned lamps, they were decorated with lilies and bluebells.
The large windows were covered with moss green, heavy velvet curtains. The light of the lamps reached small table, something was shining there, a carafe with some dark liquid. Feeling drained Alice sat down on the sofa, the silk was smooth and cold under her fingers, her skirts rustled around her, light as a whisper. Suddenly a soft, velvety familiar chuckle broke the stillness of the dim room.
It was a voice that froze Alice in place, " Did you know darling, when you walked with your friend a couple of hours ago across ballroom, you were like an echo from the past, from my past, you both were. Old shimmering dream, and the one who had gone away, forever. Sweet Alice, all evening your shoulders have seemed so very stiff, though your bearing is regal, do those pearls weigh so much?" Royal Gardiner stepped out of the shadows, and lightly he set brandy glass on the table, and with one long in a step he was at Alice's side. Alice felt soft, well-groomed hands lightly caress her neck, and then the weight of the pearls went away, and there was a click as the lock was opened, and a swish as the strings of pearls fell on the table, in a glistening, glittering pile. Alice looked up into Royal's eyes, they were dark, and a lightly amused voice whispered, "I've often wondered, my dear, what could have happened if my colleagues hadn't needed my expertise, that spring afternoon?"
Alice flinched, feeling hot blood glow in her cheeks as she realized the full meaning of Royal's words and with difficulty she managed to keep her voice even and calm as she said "It is late in the evening, the ball will be soon over, and your absence will be wondered at, Mr. Gardiner." Royal Gardiner raised his brandy glass, in a silent toast. At the doorway of that opal-shaded green-gray room Alice met Royal's expectant, and lingering gaze, then she turned and walked away.
The ball was finally over. The hall was still shimmering with the laughter of the last guests, and light conversation, it was after midnight. In the rose-red room, shades were drawn, and Alice sat on the floor, in middle of the extremely soft Persian carpet. The blonde girl didn't seem fully aware of her surroundings, a pale rose red dressing gown with kimono sleeves was draped over her shoulders. She was combing her hair open, and restless thoughts were skittering through her mind like insects on the surface of a pond. She was feeling haunted, by Dorian´s intent regard, and of Royal´s insinuations. Though nothing had happened between her and Royal Gardner, yet, the unspoken demand of submission was there. Now there was no Walter to sooth her sprit, and enchant her with poetry, to keep the gloom away.
There was a light knock on the door. In listless voice Alice said "The door is open, just come in." Alice lifted her head, and the strains of the night were visible on girl's fine-featured face, she was pale to her lips, Di noted and gently she placed a tray with two teacups and a small teapot on the small chair. Bewildered, Di watched as Alice touched her neck quickly, as if she would still feel necklace, lingering there, or maybe something else.
Alice slowly smiled, a pale and wan thing, as she touched Di's hand, and from that narrow, cool touch, Di suddenly remembered Vivien's burning, passionate, dreamlike verses she had read. And a slight blush rose upon her face, and Alice glanced at her, as if amused by something, but then Alice squeezed Di's fingers, fiercely.
The snow-covered grounds of Gardiner Hall were silent, and only the tracks of car tires on the grounds told that there had been a epolent ball in this house.
Ingelside, 21.2.1916.
Gertrude Olivier awoke with a start, a sharp, cutting headache pressed against her temples, she tried to remember the dream that had been so vivid, one of those dreams, again. She had seen through a misty haze, ground all over was white with snow, after about ten days of snowfall. There was French soliders in trenches around old fort. Some were observing the terrain as routine required, others were drinking coffee, telephone connections were being checked. Suddenly sky tore, as earth, air and sky shook. One pale, soldier, in a french uniform whispered one phrase, ils ne passeront pas, which Gertrude translated as "They won't get through."
And after a couple of days, the newspaper headlines of Daily Mail and Glen Notes, and all the others too, they were full of Verdun, and after that Dr. Blythe never teased Gertrude about her dreams, and Susan was grim, as she too poured over maps, all the while knitting, and muttering.
Anne looked out the window at the snow-covered Rainbow Valley, and she thought of her beloved son, somewhere on the French front. Softly Anne whispered a fragment of Tennyson to herself, as if the poetry that they both loved could keep her child safe.
Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep,
Where all that was to be, in all that was,
Whirl'd for a million æons thro' the vast
Waste dawn of multitudinous-eddying light—
Out of the deep, my child, out of the deep,
Thro' all this changing world of changeless law,
And every phase of ever-heightening life,
And nine long months of antenatal gloom,
With this last moon, this crescent—her dark orb
Touch'd with earth's light—thou comest, darling boy.