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Page 45

She felt a great lump come in her throat as he ceased speaking, and
for a moment or two found it impossible to answer. "A voice!" she
uttered at last. "What sort of a voice, Austin?"

"It sounded like a woman's," he replied.

Chapter the Ninth

From this time forward Austin seemed to live a double life. Perhaps it
would be more accurate to say that he inhabited two worlds. Around him
the flowers bloomed in the garden, Lubin worked and whistled, Aunt
Charlotte bustled about her duties, and everything went on as usual.
But beyond and behind all this there was something else. The dreams
and reveries that had hitherto invaded him became felt realities; he
no longer had any doubt that he was encircled by beings whom he could
not see, but who were none the less actual for that. And the curious
feature of the case was that it all seemed perfectly natural to him,
and so far from feeling frightened, or suffering from any sense of
being haunted, he experienced a sort of pleasure in it, a grateful
consciousness of friendly though unseen companionship that heightened
his joy in life. Who these invisible guardians could be, of course he
had no idea; it was enough for him just then to know that they were
there, and that, by their timely intervention on no fewer than three
ocasions, they had given ample proof that they both loved and trusted
him.

Aunt Charlotte, on her side, could not but acknowledge that there must
be "something in it," as she said; it could not all be nothing but
Austin's fancy. She remembered that people who wrote hymns and poems
talked sometimes of guardian angels, and it was possible that a belief
in guardian angels might be orthodox. It was even conceivable that it
was a benevolent functionary of this class who had let St Peter out of
prison; and if the institution had existed then, why, there was
nothing unreasonable in the conclusion that it might possibly exist
now. She revolved these questionings in her mind during her journey up
to town the day after Austin's escapade, when, as she told herself,
she would be perfectly safe from accident; for it was not in the
nature of things that two collisions should happen so close together.
And she had reason to be glad she went, seeing that her bankers
received her with perfect cordiality, and convinced her that she would
certainly lose all her money if she insisted on investing it in any
such wild-cat scheme as the one she had set her heart upon. They
suggested, instead, certain foreign bonds on which she would receive a
perfectly safe four-and-a-half per cent.; and so pleased was she at
having been preserved from risking her two thousand pounds that she
not only indulged in a modest half-bottle of Beaune with her lunch,
but bought a pretty pencil-case for Austin. She determined at the same
time to let the vicar know what her bankers had said about the
investment he had urged upon her, and promised herself that she would
take the opportunity--of course without mentioning names--of
consulting him about the orthodoxy of guardian angels. He might be
expected to prove a safer guide in such a matter as that than in
questions of high finance.

A few days afterwards, Austin went to call upon his friend St Aubyn.
He longed to see the beautiful gardens at the Court again, now that he
had obtained a glimpse into the mystic side of garden-craft through
the writings of Sir Thomas Browne; he felt intensely curious to pay
another visit to the haunted Banqueting Hall, which had a special
fascination for him since his own abnormal experiences; and he felt
that a confidential talk with Mr St Aubyn himself would do him no end
of good. _There_ was a man, at anyrate, to whom he could open his
heart; a man of high culture, wide sympathies, and great knowledge of
life. He was shown into the big, dim drawing-room, where a faint
perfume of lavender seemed to hang about, imparting to him a sense of
quiet and repose that was very soothing; through the half-closed
shutters the colours of the garden again gleamed brilliantly in the
sunshine, and there was heard a faint liquid sound, as of the plashing
of an adjacent fountain. St Aubyn entered in a few minutes, and
greeted him very cordially.

"Well, and what have you been about?" he said, after a few
preliminaries had been exchanged. "Reading and dreaming, I suppose, as
usual?"

"I'm afraid I've done both, and very little else to speak of," replied
Austin, laughing. "I'm always reading, off and on, without much
system, you know. But if I'm rather desultory I always enjoy reading,
because books give me so many new ideas, and it's delightful to have
always something fresh to think about."

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Tue 23rd Dec 2025, 1:34

Austin and His Friends by Frederic H. Balfour