The House of Mammon by Fred M. White

Author:Fred M. White
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pronoun

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XXVI. — THE GENTLE EXILE.

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SYBIL GOSWAY SAT ON THE terrace at Laurisdale Castle debating in her mind what she should do that beautiful afternoon. She was disappointed that Nest was not coming over. Nest had written a note pleading a bad headache, nor had she suggested that Sybil might come as far as Marlton Grange. Lady Laurisdale had important letters to write that sufficiently occupied her mind to the exclusion of everything else, for she sat grave and preoccupied at luncheon with hardly a word for her companion. An air of depression that troubled Sybil hung over the house and she was glad to escape into the sunshine with a book in her hand.

But it was far too lovely an afternoon to waste over a book, however exciting. The cliff and the blue sea were calling to Sybil, and she could not resist their cry. The book was flung aside, and she set out across the park. She rambled along the cliffs into the valley beyond until she came almost by a kind of instinct, to Oates’s farm. It seemed to her that she had made up her mind to come here. She wanted to have a further talk with Givanni about his wonderful flowers.

The struggling old farm-house was shut up, and repeated knocking on the stout oak door elicited no response. Obviously Mrs. Oates and her one stalwart man had gone to market. Givanni might be in the garden for he was never very far from his beloved blossoms. Sybil found him bending over a shallow frame filled with a mass of glorious scarlet and gold blooms.

He looked up quickly, with a scowl upon his face, but the frown cleared away almost instantly.

“I am sorry if I am in the way,” Sybil said. “But I am so fond of flowers, and there is none like yours, Signor Givanni! I’ll go away if you like——”

Givanni smiled gently, and became at once a different man. A dreamy enthusiasm filled his eyes; the shadow of discontent had fallen from his shoulders.

“Ah that, is a bond of sympathy between us,” he said. “In all the world there is nothing like flowers. What I should have done without them I cannot tell. There are people—friends of my youth—who would laugh if they could see me now. Mazzini and Garibaldi, but I talk nonsense.”

Sybil’s face flushed eagerly.

“Did you know those great men?” she asked. “Modern history is my favorite study. But surely, you could not——”

Givanni knew what the girl intended to say.

“I am older than you imagine—over 70. You are surprised. It is because I lead an outdoor life that I look so young. After all, we speak of things barely half a century old. Yes, I played my part in the stirring times—and since. There were reasons why Italy was no longer safe for me, and I came here. Only you are not to speak of these things, little lady. I don’t know why I tell you, except that you have your mother’s eyes.

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