The narrow attic apartment in Kingsport was full of people, from shadow to light women, danced with devotion, to the accompaniment of an out-of-tune piano and a steady gramophone, they all danced in a worn-out apartment, on a bumpy, sticky floor. Isabelle took a taste of her tepid tea, and said mischievously, "Madeleine, now maybe you can tell me why you wanted to leave Gardiner Hall early? I'm guessing it was because you didn't want to get tangled in Gardiner-webs?" Saint-Saëns - Danse Macabre shimmered, cutting chords, and Madeline, lowering her glass, looking at Isabelle in a fond way, as she said, " Do you really notice everything? All that extravagance is exhausting, and my own loyalty to Dorothy goes only so far , and earlier today that line was crossed. Knowing that I have to watch out for everything while I'm at Gardiner Hall is unnerving at times, but at the same time, I couldn't think of a good reason to turn down an invitation from Dorothy's rather charming nephew, which is why you got the invitation to be my plus one, on very short notice."
Isabelle, smiled crookedly, and held out her hand to Madeleine, nodding towards the dance floor. And as they danced, softly, Isabelle whispered, "I noticed, too, that you seemed troubled when we were in the library, wih Blythe's charming twins. If they, or perhaps fair Alice, are in trouble, there is nothing you can do. Let them go their own way. Bluenose circles can be very absorbing."
Madeline, looked seriously at Isabelle, and said, "You're right, but I still feel partly responsible." Isabelle laughed lightly, and remarked, "Is it because Christine Stuart Dawson was there, she has a certain form, or so the rumours claim."
Madeline, leaning on Isabelle, softly waltzed in a calm tempo, as she said, "Perhaps, even if I knew something, I wouldn't tell you." Isabelle laughed with, gleeful abandoment, and pressed herself against Madeleine, more tightly than perhaps the dance pattern would have required, and Madeline, smiled, and said, "I have no intention of becoming your next victim, so can you please try to behave yourself."
Isabelle, spun lightly, and glanced around. The atmosphere in the apartment had changed, in a subtle way. And Isabelle, softly pressed, Madeline's hand, and Madeline, remarked, "Oh, is that why you proposed to come here?"
A slim but lush figured woman, dark-eyed, with unruly red curls, and dressed in a generous, deep-grooved, form-fitted dress, had walked beside faded piano, from which regal and silveryblond, Helene had just risen.
And the red-haired woman smiled and climbed onto the small dais built next to the piano, and she lounged there, performing, a hodgepodge of ribald songs, in a manner that was effortlessly lush, and captivatingly erotic, in a most subtle way.
Madeline noticed that during the performance, Isabelle, often so vivid, was stilled, in a most peculiar way. Madeline, touched her sleeve, and said lightly, "Is she the one that had gone away?"
There was a look of self-deprecation in Isabelle's pale green eyes, and she said, "Why do you think so?" Madeleine, said seriously, "Because dear friend you were open, without your normal flirtatious armor."
Isabelle cast a rueful glance at the red-haired woman and as she said briefly, "Perhaps, as I said earlier at Gardiner Hall, many things can happen in moments." Madeleine's look was genuinely sympathetic as she said, "Yes."
Soft hazy lamplight illuminated the pink suite in the upstairs wing of Gardiner Hall. Nan glanced around curiously, and inquired in her lively way, " So this is for guest use. It seems quite strange, for these rooms have more personality than you might imagine, for everything is so delicate and finished, as if the guest of the room would soon return, and we were only here as intruders."
Dorian, was in the process of carelessly folding his plum-colored cravat, and stretching his articulation a little, he said in a confidential tone, "Well, I take it these were my mother's rooms, at one point, but Adeline decided to give them away for guest use a couple of years ago. There may still be some of her artifacts in here, in spite of the fact that some are stored elsewhere, they are dotted all over Hall, or so I have found out, it is actually really curious way."
The scent of a light, fresh date spice cake wafted from under the silver semi-circular dome, and Alice was frozen, her knife-clutching fingers were white. Di carefully, cut neat slices of the cake, and glanced at Alice, her brow furrowed and she heard Alice whisper half to herself, "Well, that explains why I found them here."
Di, touched Alice's arm quickly, fleetingly, and asked quietly, "Found what?" "That triple baroque string of pearls, it was in the drawer of the dressing table, in the far corner." Alice's voice was evenly controlled, but there was a slight tinge of pressure in it that Di didn't quite understand.
Nan, glanced sharply in Alice's direction and said "What are you whispering over there?" Alice looked up at Dorian and said quietly, stirring her tea, "I was just telling Di that I found your late mother's string of pearls here."
Dorian nodded thoughtfully. The room was filled with the muffled clinking of dishes, and slight sighs, because the date cake was excellent. A mist rose behind the windows, and slowly the peaceful rejoicing in the room subsided, Dorian and Nan talking in low voices, on the cushioned window seat, its pink silk cushions and damask curtains the same shade as Nan's dress, the hems of which rustled quietly as she swung her ankles, as she sometimes did when thinking.
Di, looked around, at the pale petal-pink and empire-lined space. She found herself in an inspired, frantic state of mind, for the evening had been full of intersecting influences. And almost without realizing it, she found herself sketching out a letter to Mumsy in her mind, the letter that was a total struggle to write. For the things that Anne had revealed were such that, on the one hand, they could be talked about at tea time, with Susan's watchful figure close by, but then on the other hand, Di, instinctively knew that the side of Anne she had revealed in the letter was multifaceted, all was completely above broad, she had been given advice about friendship and love, finding it, but still there was a light feeling of recognition, it almost tickled Di's neck, as if someone had touched her neck with nettle leaves, a light, stinging burning glow that did not subside. Di, impatient, chopped her piece of cake into small crumbs.
On the other side of the window, far below, shadowy figures moved along the steps of Gardiner Hall. In the distance there was laughter, glowing, seductive. And then there was the humming, vibrating sound of the metallic Gong, which echoed through the evening.
Dorian looked up, and remarked, "Those guests who are not staying the night are leaving now. Of course, this does not mean any of you." Curious, Di inquired, "Are there many people staying here, for tomorrow?"
Dorian, straightened the collars of his petrol blue smoking jacket, and smiled as he said, "Brunch, a table full of hungover family members and the Stuart Dawsons, so your presence would be a great balm to me. The cooks always make too much food just for us. Lately I've been trying to pass on the leftovers whenever I can, when I can avoid Adeline´s eagle eyes. Fortunately, Thompson has been helpful as he always is."
Di, said in a mischievous tone, "Dorian, that seems very charitable, and above all, surprisingly practical. Is it perhaps the influence of a golden-haired Torontonian, perhaps?"
Dorian, just threw a half-irritated look in Di's direction and said lightly, "No, that's the old way that Valentine started. Persis Ford did write inspiring and memorable letters, though I'll say no more about them, because it's not a gentlemanly thing to do so. "
Suppressed hilarity flashed in Nan's hazel eyes, and Alice and Di hid their smiles at Dorian's mildly pompous speech. A soft knock sounded on the door of the room, and they exchanged startled glances, and then Alice raised her voice, to a shimmering resonance, and said, "The door is open!"
Dorothy's sleek, yet bohemian, tousled coiffure flashed out, of the gloomy corridor, and she leaned against the doorframe, her wide, cream-colored trousers shimmering in the light, as did her bright orange-silk blouse, she turned her head, and said in her airy style, "Dear Dorian, let Hollow's girls to let their hair down, and loosen up, because party dresses are pure murder, afterwards, not to mention dancing shoes."
Di noted with amusement that Dorian's pale skin flushed slightly, and his earlobes were quite bright red, as he turned gracefully, and bowed, in the best salon-lion fashion, as Persis might call the gesture. Dorian shrugged his shoulders, and said cordially, and very warmly, but shyly at the same time. "My Aunt is right, I'll leave you now, I'll see you tomorrow."
There was a deep silence as the door closed softly and silently. Nan glanced hesitantly at her twin and Alice, they were sitting on the empire sofa. Three canvas bags were on the floor, and those bags contained day dresses, and few pairs of unmentionables, and personalized cotton shifts. Nan gave a sharp sigh, and as if that sigh had been some signal, Alice rose, and whispered a few words in Di's ear, as she did so, she in off-hand way, caressed Di´s inkstained, gloveless fingers, the gesture was very familiar, and with soft steps, she walked out of the room, carrying a full tea-tray with an assortment of plates, teacups, and cake crumbs.
Nan noticed that Di was lightly rubbing her temple with quick movements, so she got up and gently embraced Di, saying vaguely, "is everything as it should be?" Di, looked up, and Nan noticed that there was an introverted look in her twin's greenish-gray eyes that cut deep into Nan's heart, because the same look had often been in Walter's eyes during the first year of the war. And then Di said in a low voice, as if weighing each syllable, "Remember when sweet Laura Carr had to move?"
Nan, with a searching glance at Di, she said lightly, "I remember you being completely inconsolable for weeks, though in a different way when you faced the treachery of Jenny Penny and Delilah Green. You haven't spoken to me about Laura Carr in years. We don't even know what's up with her these days, or do we?"
Di, gave Nan a slightly irritated look, and then she said, "Because weeks before Carr family's move to Charlottetown became public, thanks to Glen's gossip, Laura distanced herself from me, slowly, and gradually, but it happened, and I didn't understand what was happening at all, before Walter told me in Rainbow Valley that the Carr family were moving. Laura Carr is married, her husband is on the Western Front, coincidentally in Carl's troop division, Una told me that information in her last letter, so I couldn't have answered you anything about Laura's current circumstances two weeks ago, if you had asked at the time."
Nan looked quizzically in Di's direction and said, "But how does this have anything to do with anything. Where did Alice sneak off to?"
Di, stifled a sigh, and tried to say softly, without succeeding very well, for meekness did not come naturally to the Ingelside girls, none of them, "Alice wanted to give us some time together, while she takes the dishes into the kitchen."
"In her dancing finery no less! It might be better if we'd all recently changed into our chemises and petticoats, but on the other hand, it would be humiliating if any stranger saw us in deshabille. It would be downright indecent, as Susan would say"Nan exclaimed.
Di, calmly untwisted her thick plait, and suppressed a slight shiver, for the thought of Alice walking the nightly corridors of Gardiner Hall after a lavish party was unsettling. And with a small frown Di admitted to herself that, Alice seemed a little too indulgent about Christine Stuart Dawson, too mellow, and even submissive in some strange way. And with a start, Di realized that she and Alice hadn't had a proper, in-depth conversation in for a quite a while, whenever Di had tried, Alice had managed to distract her, sometimes very inventive and absorbing ways.
Nan, glanced Di, as she did so she noted that her twin's expression was dreamy, and, practically, she remarked, "If we're not going to sleep in our party dresses, will you help with my buttons, and I'll do the same for you. That Mumsy's old dress is beautiful. Did you notice how startled Mr. Gardiner looked, when you walked in, he had turned quite pale. Mumsy has said little, though she admitted she knew the Gardiners while she was up, so to speak."
Di, with the swiftest of movements, undid the little cloth-covered buttons, from Nan's back, and said thoughtfully, "Yes. Adeline, in particular, behaves towards us with a cool politeness, twined with condescension, which is a degree sharper than the politeness with which she speaks to Alice, for example, if you've noticed."
Nan replied in a hesitant voice, "Perhaps, Adeline just resents Dorian's choice, of us, for you remember how critical Susan and Mumsy were before the Merediths came to the Glen, who we got to spend time with even when we were children in those sunny and shady far gone days of larks and moonrambles. As for Christine Stuart Dawson, I remembered hearing during the Christmas holidays that Dads knew her in Redmond back in the day, I heard Mumsy say so to Gertrude Olivier."
Di, nodded lightly. Nan, rolled lightly around, and aimed at her twin with a small decorative pillow. Silvery laugh rang out, it ran down the hall free, full of the invincible charm and sweetness of youth.
The scent of chilled champagne and the spices of Havana cigars filled the corridors when Alice returned from the kitchen, on the staircase, Thompson nodded, to her, and said in a whisper, "Mr. Gardiner and his circle are spending the evening with brandy and port, pastries and cheese in the blue drawing room and Mr. Gardiner's study , so I suggest, go up this corridor, and turn to the right. There's a billiard room, and a little further guest wing, and a small staircase leading back to the pink wing." Alice, nodded, and said "Thank you, Thompson."
Cautiously, Alice walked forward down lit corridor, turning at the intersections, until she saw a ray of light reflected on the dark red, slightly frayed carpet, and the clink of glass twined with lowered, intimate murmurs were heard from the room. Then there were light whistling, of vaudeville tune, Poor Butterfly, and light and subtle scent of white musk and hint of creamy ylang-ylang flooded the corridor. Undeterred, Alice turned yet another corner, it was illuminated by the soft light of wall-lamps, that were in the shape of seashells, she heard, darkly powerful chest notes, could be heard from one room, as Bizet's vibrating notes glowed.
After music had ended, Alice saw Christine, slip out, she was draped in a scanty white silk, as she strolled out from a suite of rooms. Amused, ambiguous look flashed momentarily across Christine's features as she turned, at one doorway that was half-open, there were jade-colored tiles, as she, said lightly, in measured tones. " Well, this is most pleasant surprise. Cocoa is sure to be found in the kitchen if sleep eludes you, dear Alice. I've always found that bath after formal events, it's so soothing, but this occasion is not yet over." The silk was soft and slippery under Alice's trembling fingers as she gathered her hems. A drunken laugh could be heard from somewhere, nearby, as raising her skirts, Alice hurried past Christine.
Out of breath, Alice leaned against the wall of the semi-dark corridor, and tried to collect her thoughts, for this evening had been full of exhausting exposure, and tempting undercurrents, but thoughts flew out of her reach like fluttering moths as she leaned into iron-wrought staircase. Soon Alice was, letting herself into pink suite, which was almost dark, there was only a small lamp burning on the delicately decorated occasion table.
In the middle of the bed was a pile wrapped in bedclothes, from which Nan's calm breathing could be heard. Di, dressed in pale muslin, looked up from her notebook and looked searchingly at Alice, as she did so, she held out her hand, and Alice found herself grasping it with a frevor, as Di got up, from the bed, and led Alice into a small side room, with only a screen, and a divan, and a large, somewhat ornate wardrobe, and a gilt oval mirror on the wall.
Di, said in a low voice that was barely above a whisper. "Alice, we Blythes sometimes have a tendency to be too focused on just one goal, and for me it's writing and Red Cross work. It seems to me like we've drifted apart lately. It's good that we do things separately too, but I would like to bridge this distance, if I can. What I'm trying to say here is that I'm proud of the progress you've made with Christine's guidance. She's hardly a kindredspirit, but I noticed today that she too has a more than a hint playfulness of all her highfaulting ways. But is there something, anything, that you want or wish to tell me?"
Alice took a deep breath, and in a low voice, half whispering, she replied in Di´s earnest heartwarming query. "Sometimes, like now, I feel as if I don't deserve your warm regard and tendresse toward me at all. "
A soft silence fell after Alice's words. Di sat quietly collecting her thoughts, and finally, when little wall clock had stopped ringing, Di, glanced at Alice, and walked two steps to her, and embraced, blond girl gently, and whispered, in her ear, " After my world had been shattered, I eventually noticed that there were still a little bit of beauty left in the world, as I watched you, as you slumbered in your fitfull way. I found that I wanted to wake up next to you more often."
Afterwards as Di's fingers had unbuttoned her dress, teasingly, caressingly, cleverly, as Alice´s stuttering breathing had evened out, Di whispered a little roughly, "I heard there's a bathroom somewhere around here that's apparently free to use after a party like this, just for family guests, which we are."
Alice, felt a hot flush rise to her cheeks, as Di chuckled softly, and whispered, "Of course I didn't mean for us to go there now, it was just an idle thought. That chemise is very, fancy, but it suits you, a new one perhaps." Alice, nodded, and said half sleepily, "Yes, it is."
Gardiner Hall's breakfast room was bathed in the golden sunlight of an August morning. Adeline looked around, and automatically fixed the golden brown toasts on the covered tray to a better position. The last guests and only family acquaintances were there, sitting in the semicircle, amid heiroom porcelaine, and drooping flower displays. Royal was well groomed, as usual, but his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, and he smelled strongly of brandy, as was usual way of things, it was extremely irritating.
Dorian, sat as close to Royal as possible, which was a new development, but he seemed to cut his eggs impatiently, as he conversed in a low voice with Andrew Dawson, who was dressed in a dark blue smoking jacket, the topic seemed to be the care of roses. Andrew, said audibly, "It seems that my roses are not causing problems, they are not nearly as demanding as orchids, even if I have nurtured them, if they were my offspings. I happened to visit the greenhouse yesterday, and it has a really intimate atmosphere, all that luminous art deco glory. There is excellent growing conditions, and a very nice specimens of moon flowers."
Christine remarked, glancing in Roy's direction, "If I do not mis-remember, you, should have a few bottles of Chateau Peayraguey in the cellar. That wine is like sunshine, it would go well with this brunch."
Adeline, saw that Roy, folded his napkin, in jagged way as he answered curtly, "Especially with strawberries." Andrew, grinned and said, "Unless you can't stand strawberries." Sudden flash of humour livened Roy´s pale features, and Adeline found fiecre sting of gladness in her heart at the sight.
At this juncture, Dorian's guests arrived in the breakfast room, and Dorothy, who was chatting animatedly with the dark-haired Blythe twin, the one whose Christian name was never used, and Adeline wasn't quite sure what it even was.
There was Chateau Peayraguey, it shimmered in the glasses, and its light, aroma combined with strawberries, cheeses, and the smell of raspberries, and a light and lively conversation could be heard. Afterwards, the party gathered in the red parlor, where light piano music was being played, Liebenstraum by Listz, Adeline noticed to her irritation that the red-haired twin was quite good, as she coaxed tunes out of piano.
Nan, sat in a wonderfully soft armchair, looking at the scene in front of her, it was like something out of an Austen novel, light curtains accented the narrow table at which Dorothy, Dorian and Adeline were playing cards, with the pack taken out of its own wooden box, and the tunes conjured up by Di from the piano created a cozy atmosphere, across the room, Christine Stuart Dawson seemed to be conversing with Alice, quite animatedly, maybe they were dissecting musical things, sort of like Gertrude Olivier and Rosemary Meredith sometimes on an occasion did, after Laidies Aid meetings.
Nan frowned, as she remembered the soft, low beam of light that had come from the dressing room, and, half dazed, Nan had heard Di and Alice talking about something, in confidential, low, intimate tones. And a couple of hours later, Nan had noticed in the bright glow of morning light that they were both sleeping in the dressing room, in one heap, of tangled limbs, of cotton, colorful silken ribbons, of pale bue and green, and pillow-creases, and messy braids.
Nan, took out a piece of writing paper, with a foggy watermark on it, and began to outline a letter to Jerry, Gardiner Hall spiel, quite openly, for she knew very well that Jerry longed for escapism, for Dorian's birthday was a perfect writing exercise for social satire. The papers were filling up, and her ink pen was scribbling on the pages. Nan could almost see the gleam in Jerry's dark eyes as he read the letter, somewhere "out there." For in his last letter Jerry had written most impassioned words.
Darling Nan!
My letter is rather just a note, and carelessly written, at that especially as I know how carefully you work your own letters, but I want to say, trust yourself, and I want to hear everything, even the most imperfect, how you argued at the Red Cross, or how you queued for milk, or how you manage the kitchen shifts at Primrose Hollow. I shared the treats you sent, they were excellent, but I prefer the familiar Canadian cuisine, and the same treats we ate at the Glen, in the Rainbow Valley era, and later as well. As Blake has famously written,
Love and harmony combine,
And round our souls entwine
While thy branches mix with mine,
And our roots together join
Here, I find myself believing more and more firmly and firmly in you and our future together. I know I have written about this theme before, in the midst of all this immeasurable suffering, one must believe, in something pure and good, and that is you for me. Our paths will be one, and we will bend, and merge together, by the bonds of holy matrimony. The thought of the ruby on your neck, gives me strength, and hope that all the red shade, is not harmful, as it is here.
with all my love,
J.
Gardiner Hall, which had resembled an anthill the day before, fell silent, finally. Dorothy's look was very sympathetic as she smiled at Dorian, and said, "Shall we go and see the roses, on the south wall?" Royal Gardiner, watched from behind the library window as Dorian stood near the crimson and sparkling white rosebushes. It was surprisingly painful that there were roses again in Gardiner Hall. Dorian smiled brightly with joy, and that smile was like a pale copy of Valentine's smile.
A soft and feminine hand suddenly grabbed Roy's arm, Roy turned, and looked at Christine, who held out a glass of champagne, half-astounded, Roy noticed that Christine's eyes sparkled with barely hidden triumph, her hair seemed to be slightly damp, so, half-humorously, Roy asked, "Would you perhaps use strawberries and Chateau Peayraguey with your project, because they bring a certain level, unless of course it's some charity thing." Christine smiled in her light cat-like way, and this close, Roy could smell the hazy soft powder and French cologne, as she only laughed, in low decadently amused way.
After the extravagance of Gardiner Hall, Primrose Hollow felt like a haven of homely harmony, as the exhausted girls returned to routines. One afternoon, two days after Dorians birthday, Di, glanced at Nan who was reading Austen, she was lounging in the armchair. Alice was baking in the kitchen, the dough thumped audibly on the surface of the table, rhythmically, there were light scent of incense and honey, as past days Alice had been going to Compline, with almost frevent eagerness. Work-filled everyday life that was not yet overshadowed by the beginning of the last year at Redmond, as everyone had bigger questions on their minds, the battle of Ypres in Flanders was still raging, as the latest reports claimed.
There was a small hint of September in the air. Ingelside smelled like cooked plums, their soft, slightly sugary scent wafting everywhere, as Susan rattled around in the kitchen. Anne Blythe looked up towards ruddy Upper Glen road, festooned with honeysuckle. Pile of letters, there was front mail, and circulars, and propaganda appeals, postal packages, of which there was only one, this time, had arrived earlier. Curious, Anne cut open the thick ribbons, and soon she was holding a greenish-gold book, the spine of which read in a narrow font, To the Bluebell Woods, by Diana Blythe. And with trembling fingers Anne opened the book, smelling of fresh paper and ink, glistening tears welling up in her eyes when she saw the dedication, For Walter, who always believed in rainbows. Anne looked up from the book, afternoon light glimmered on the noses of Gog and Magog, frame of Walter's photograph glowed dimly, and in front of it, as always, was an overflowing vase of flowers, with a misty, glowing bouquet, love in a mist, those delicate pale blue flowers creating a romantic background, as Anne delved into her childs words, for Di had slipped in between the sealed letter, near first page of the novel.
I've thought long and hard about what I can write, like Blake, whom Nan is so excited about, thanks to her and Jerry's correspondence, as that wonderful poet has said of love.
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
Nan reacts more emotionally, in certain situations, than I do. Still, certain parts of your letter awakened half-buried memories in me, which I have been reflecting on. I think that this line of poetry that I have quoted in this letter may also describe something that you yourself have felt, once upon a time. As for the meditation of love and friendship, the differences of which you highlighted with understandable skill. This novel may provide my own answer, but I would like to point out that it is fiction. I hope it brings you joy,
with love,
Di.
Hour or so later, Susan, knocked on Gilbert's study door, and said in her dignified style, "I put the raspberry tarts in the oven, and I just went to see Mrs. Doctor. Dear, she walks round the garden, like possessed, and I noticed that there is a package on the hall table, which has been opened, I hope there has been no bad news."
Feeling alarmed, Gilbert actually ran into Ingelside's shady garden, and there, in the shade of hydrangeas, Anne stood, and she clutched something to her chest, very tightly. Anne looked up, her gray-green eyes, and her pale, graceful features almost glittering in the shade, and Gilbert said, "Darling, what's happened?"
Instead of answering, Anne threw herself into Gilbert's arms, and whispered, "Di sent me an advance copy of her novel, and I feel so happy now, at her achievement, that I´m almost faint."
Gilbert, glanced at the novel, the cover of which was the same shade as those so dear eyes, to him, and softly he whispered, " Well, this validates our decision, for if we had given in to Di's pleading request to join with the VAD, our girl would not would have written this."