of the farthest hills.
She was trying to think up a friendly remark to make to Felix, when he spoke himself.
‘You know,’ he said, with his eyes fixed on the road, ‘I’m glad you’re going to be visiting us at Valley Farms. June needs someone, some nice pleasant young lady like you, to keep her company. I hope that doesn’t sound impertinent.’
‘Not at all’, Kate said. ‘I’m glad you think I’ll be of some use. Of course June does have a sister, doesn’t she?’
For a moment he merely pursed his lips. ‘Clotilde is very attractive’, he said at last, and Kate noticed that he had dropped the ‘Miss’ before her name. ‘She’s the beauty of the family, you know. But between ourselves, I don’t think she’s much of a help to June. You’ll see soon enough. Of course they are only half-sisters. You probably know all about that.’
‘No, I didn’t know it’, Kate said. ‘I never even knew June had a sister until I got Mr. Gladstone’s letter. And who else is at the farm? I don’t know anything about the family really. I haven’t even met Mr. Gladstone.’
‘Well, there’s Mrs. Gladstone, June’s mother – everyone calls her Mavis, even the girls. And just now there’s Mr. Green; he’s Clotilde’s fiancé. They’re going to be married in a few weeks, I guess. I shouldn’t be surprised if they ran off any time. And there’s Jo, or I should say Mr. Martinez. He’s Spanish.’
‘But who is he?’ she asked. ‘What does he do?’
‘He’s a violinist. They say he’s very good.’
‘But I mean is he a relation? Is he connected with the family?’
Felix hesitated again and again pursed his lips; Kate could see that he disapproved of Jo.
‘No – he’s not a relation’, he said slowly, ‘You might say he’s just a kind of – special friend.’
For a long time neither spoke. It seemed as if the thought of Jo had dried up Felix’s sociability; and Kate found that the breeze as it lapped around the side of the windshield, the monotony of woodland and meadow, were lulling her into a pleasant drowsiness. She did notice, however, that the hills were growing higher, the farmhouses somewhat less frequent. Now and then a spur of rock jutted out from the end of a wooded ridge like the prow of a gigantic ship. She noticed, too, how Felix always kept the car at exactly thirty-five miles, whether they were going up hill or down; she could imagine that she was floating through the sky, a summer sky endlessly blue and soft, floating above a region of green silent waves.
Then, without warning, the car stopped.
In a flash she recalled her imaginings in her room a little while ago, and glanced at Felix. But Felix was leaning out of the car and talking to a thickset middle-aged man, with sharp features and bright bird-like eyes, who was sitting on a bank, with a bicycle leaning against the turf beside him. They were near the top of the highest hill so far, and he had evidently stopped to rest.
‘Well, Professor,’ Felix asked, ‘can I give you a lift? You look just about all in. Men our age oughtn’t to attempt long bicycle rides in summer – especially with these hills.’
Kate smiled at Felix’s tact: this stranger must be ten years older than he.
‘It’s all very well for you to talk,’ the man replied in a precise voice, ‘with your boss getting gas for two cars, and then wangling a C card out of his ration board. I should think he’d be ashamed of himself.’
Felix shrugged his shoulders and his flickering smile became for a moment almost a grin. ‘Well, there are no trains around here; there are no buses. And we have to get our produce to market. When I drove to town to-day the trunk was full of fresh vegetables. Mostly lettuce.’
The man with the bicycle stood up and slowly shook one leg, then the other. ‘Well, if he can get away with it, who am I to object? There are worse things than that the matter with the Roosevelt régime. But as far as buses and trains go, they don’t come any nearer me than they do you. And I’m farther from the main road.’
‘Perhaps they don’t think your work out here is essential to the war effort’, Felix suggested. Then turning to Kate, he explained: ‘Professor Hatfield spends his vacations by the river looking for birds.’
‘Wherever the gas comes from, I’d gladly accept a lift’, Professor Hatfield went on. ‘But what about the bicycle?’
‘We can fix that in behind’, Felix said; and the next moment he was in the road and, rather to Kate’s alarm, because the car looked so spotless, he was lifting the bicycle into the back seat. In a couple of minutes he had arranged it so that it rested firmly propped, without a scratch to the paint or the rich green leather.
‘But I haven’t introduced you, have I?’ he went on to Kate. ‘You must think I’m very rude. Professor, I take pleasure in presenting you to Miss Katherine Archer. Since she goes to the university, she’s probably heard of you. She’s coming out to visit June, and I hope she won’t think me fresh if I say I can’t imagine a more charming visitor.’
Kate recalled Professor Hatfield’s name, and thought now that she remembered having seen him about the campus. His eyes were fixed intently upon her; he cocked his head so as to get a clearer view, and for that moment he reminded her of a smooth, alert, but rather dusty parrot.
‘June is very lucky,’ he said, ‘to have such a friend. I hope I won’t crowd you, Miss Archer. At any rate I’m several pounds thinner than when I started out after lunch.’
Kate was thoroughly enjoying herself; she was growing quite fond of Felix, now that he no longer surprised her, and thought she would like this friendly sharp-eyed gentleman.
‘Are you an ornithologist?’ she asked as the car slipped smoothly over the crest of the hill. ‘I always thought you were in the chemistry department.’
‘I earn my living teaching chemistry,’ he said, ‘and just now I’m doing research for our government. Birds are my vice. When I get a few days off, or better still a few weeks, I’m apt to sneak away from town and leave my good wife to her various social engagements. The bottom lands and the river bluffs are the best places in the state for bird life. Up here I see no one but birds and the unique Valley Farms household.’
‘You have a house near Mr. Gladstone’s?’ she asked. ‘How nice! Then perhaps I’ll be seeing you.’
‘You’ll be seeing me tonight at dinner,’ he said, ‘than which for me nothing could be nicer. But one can hardly call my little hide-out a house, especially when you compare it with Valley Farms which is almost a feudal estate. All I possess is a one-room shack near the top of a small bluff, overlooking the river. But there is a fine view, so perhaps you’ll drop in on me sometime. I’m not more than a mile from the big house.’
‘I’d love to!’ she exclaimed. ‘Perhaps I could bring June along.’
‘June too, of course,’ he said, ‘if she would care to come. She has never done me that honour so far. June’s a rather queer child, I think Felix will agree, but I have never found her dull. I think your visit may be interesting, Miss Archer. I hope it may be happy – or at any rate profitable. Of course out here we’re very remote; it’s a little world of its own. I’m sure at any rate that it will be a new kind of experience for you.’
‘Now, Professor,’ Felix exclaimed, ‘you’re talking as if Miss Archer was about to bury herself in the African jungle. Don’t let him scare you, Miss Archer. He’s got quite an imagination, the professor has.’
And suddenly Kate remembered the strange note that was in her purse. The nervousness, the doubt she had felt alone in her bedroom swept over her again with a qualm as of seasickness. Because in her room there was still time to retreat: she need not, after all, have answered the knock on the door; she could have written Mr. Gladstone that she had changed her mind; but now that she had started it was too late. She felt as if she were in one