diff options
Diffstat (limited to '5636-h/5636-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 5636-h/5636-h.htm | 23196 |
1 files changed, 23196 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/5636-h/5636-h.htm b/5636-h/5636-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0723c54 --- /dev/null +++ b/5636-h/5636-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,23196 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Winding Paths, by Gertrude Page</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Winding Paths, by Gertrude Page</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Winding Paths</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Gertrude Page</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: July 27, 2002 [eBook #5636]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 29, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: W. Debeuf</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINDING PATHS ***</div> + +<h1>Winding Paths</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by Gertrude Page</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap35">CHAPTER XXXV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap36">CHAPTER XXXVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap37">CHAPTER XXXVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap38">CHAPTER XXXVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap39">CHAPTER XXXIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap40">CHAPTER XL.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap41">CHAPTER XLI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap42">CHAPTER XLII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap43">CHAPTER XLIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap44">CHAPTER XLIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap45">CHAPTER XLV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap46">CHAPTER XLVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="letter"> +“So many gods, so many creeds,<br/> +So many paths that wind and wind,<br/> +And just the art of being kind<br/> +Is all the sad world needs.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>WINDING PATHS</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<p> +There were several interesting points about Hal Pritchard and Lorraine Vivian, +but perhaps the most striking was their friendship for each other. From two +wide-apart extremes they had somehow gravitated together, and commenced at +boarding-school a friendship which only deepened and strengthened after their +exit from the wise supervision of the Misses Walton, and their entrance as +“finished” young women into the wide area of the world at large. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine went first. She was six years older than Hal, and under ordinary +circumstances would hardly have been at school with her at all. As it was, she +went at nineteen because she was not very strong, and sea air was considered +good for her. She was a sort of parlour-boarder, sent to study languages and +accomplishments while she inhaled the sea air of Eastgate. Why, among all the +scholars, who for the most part regarded her as a resplendent, beautifully +dressed being outside their sphere, she should have quickly developed an ardent +affection for Hal, the rough-and-ready tomboy, remained a mystery; but far from +being a passing fancy, it ripened steadily into a deep and lasting attachment. +</p> + +<p> +When Hal was fifteen, Lorraine left; and it has to be admitted that the +anxious, motherly hearts of the Misses Walton drew a deep breath of relief, and +hoped the friendship would now cease, unfed by daily contact and daily mutual +interests. But there they under-estimated the depth of affection already in the +hearts of the girls, and their natural loyalty, which scorned a mere question +of separation, and entered into one another’s interests just as eagerly +as when they were together. +</p> + +<p> +Not that they, the Misses Walton, had anything actually against Lorraine, +beyond the fact that she promised a degree of beauty likely, they felt, coupled +as it was with a charming wit and a fascinating personality, to open out some +striking career for her, and possibly become a snare and a temptation. +</p> + +<p> +On the other hand, Hal was just a homely, nondescript, untidy, riotous type of +schoolgirl, with a very strong capacity for affection, and an unmanageable +predilection for scrapes and adventures, that made her more likely to fall +under the sway of Lorraine, should it promise any chance of excitement. +</p> + +<p> +And one had only to view Lorraine among the other “young ladies” of +the seminary to fear the worst. Miss Emily Walton would never have admitted it; +but even she, fondly clinging to the old tradition that the terms +“girls” or “women” are less impressive than +“young ladies”, felt somehow that the orthodox nomenclature did not +successfully fit her two most remarkable pupils. Of course they were ladies by +birth and education, else they would certainly not have been admitted to so +select a seminary; but whereas the rest of the pupils might be said more or +less to study, and improve, and have their being in a milk and biscuit +atmosphere, Hal and Lorraine were quite uncomfortably more like champagne and +good, honest, frothing beer. +</p> + +<p> +No amount of prunes and prism advice and surroundings seemed to dull the +sparkle in Lorraine, nor daunt nor suppress fearless, outspoken, unmanageable +Hal. In separate camps, with a nice little following each, to keep an even +balance, they might merely have livened the free hours; but as a combination it +soon became apparent they would waken up the embryo young ladies quite +alarmingly, and initiate a new atmosphere of gaiety that might become beyond +the restraining, select influence even of the Misses Walton. +</p> + +<p> +The first scare came with the new French mistress, who had a perfect Parisian +accent, but knew very little English. Of course Lorraine easily divined this, +and, being something of a French scholar already, she soon won +Mademoiselle’s confidence by one or two charmingly expressed, lucid +French explanations. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the translation lesson, and choosing a fable that would specially +lend itself, she started the class off translating it into an English +fabrication that convulsed both pupils and mistress. Hal, of course, followed +suit, and the merriment grew fast and furious after a few positively rowdy +lessons. +</p> + +<p> +Mademoiselle herself gave the fun away at the governesses’ dinner, a very +precise and formal meal, which took place at seven o’clock, to be +followed at eight by the pupils’ supper of bread-and-butter with +occasional sardines. She related in broken English what an amusing book they +had to read, repeating a few slang terms, that would certainly not, under any +circumstances, have been allowed to pass the lips of the young ladies. +</p> + +<p> +After that it was deemed advisable Lorraine should translate French alone, and +Hal be severely admonished. +</p> + +<p> +Then there was the dreadful affair of the Boys’ College. It was not +unusual for them to walk past the school on Sunday afternoons; but it was only +after Lorraine came that a system was instituted by which, if the four front +boys all blew their noses as they passed, it was a signal that a note, or +possibly several, had been slipped under the loose brick at the school +entrance. +</p> + +<p> +Further, it was only Lorraine who could have sent the answers, because none of +the other girls had an uncle often running down for a breath of sea air, when, +of course, he needed his dear niece’s company. He was certainly a very +attentive uncle, and a very generous one too, judging by the Buszard’s +cakes and De Brei’s chocolates, and Miss Walton could not help eyeing him +a little askance. +</p> + +<p> +But then, as Miss Emily said, he was such a very striking, +distinguished-looking gentleman, people had already been interested to learn he +had a niece at the Misses Walton’s seminary. Besides, one could not +reasonably object to a relative calling, and he had seemed so devoted to +Lorraine’s handsome mother when they had together brought her to school. +</p> + +<p> +But of course, after the disgraceful episode of the notes that blew into the +road, the windows had to be dulled at once, so that no one could see the boys +pass. It was a mercy the thing had been discovered so soon. +</p> + +<p> +Then shortly after came the breaking-up dances, one for the governesses, when +the masters from the college were invited, and one the next night for the +girls, when the remains of the same supper did duty again, and with reference +to which Miss Walton gently told them she had not been able to ask any of the +boys from the school, as she was afraid their parents would not approve; she +hoped they were not disappointed, and that the big girls would dance with the +little ones, as it pleased them so. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine immediately replied sweetly that none of them cared about dancing with +boys, and some of the children would be much more amusing. She made herself +spokeswoman, because Miss Walton had half-unconsciously glanced at her at the +mere mention of the word boys, fondly believing that the other well-brought-up +pupils would prefer their room to their company, whereas Lorraine might think +the party very tame. Her answer was a pleasant surprise. +</p> + +<p> +But then, who was to know that the night of the governesses’ dance she +had bribed the three girls in the small dormitory to silence, and after some +half-dozen of them had gone to bed with their night-gowns over their dresses, +had given the signal to arise directly the dance was in full swing. After that +they adjourned to the small dormitory and spread out a repast of sweets and +cakes, to which such of the younger masters as were brave enough to risk +detection slipped away up the school staircase at intervals, to be more than +rewarded by Lorraine’s inimitable mimicry. +</p> + +<p> +“There will be no boys for you to dance with, dear girls,” she told +them gently, “as your parents might not approve,” then added, with +roguish lights in her splendid eyes: “No boys, dear girls, only a few +masters to supper in the small dormitory.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s misdemeanours were of a less subtle kind. Neither boys nor masters +interested her particularly as yet; but there were a thousand-and-one other +ways of livening things up, and she tried them all, sometimes getting off scot +free, and sometimes finding herself uncomfortably pilloried before the rest of +the school, to be cross-questioned and severely admonished at great lenght +before being “sent to Coventry” for a stated period. +</p> + +<p> +But, had she only known it, there were many chicken-hearted girls who envied +her even her disgrace, for the sake of the dauntless, shining spirit of her +that nothing ever crushed. And as for being “sent to Coventry”, +well, Hal and Lorraine easily coped with that through the twopennyworth system. +</p> + +<p> +If an offender was sent to Coventry, any other girl who spoke to her had to pay +a fine of twopence, and if either of these two gay spirits found themselves +doomed to silence, they persuaded such of the others as were “game” +enough, to have occasional “twopennyworths”. +</p> + +<p> +Of the two, Hal was far the greater favourite; she was in fact the popular +idol; for though the girls were full of admiration for Lorraine, and not a +little proud of her, they were also a little afraid of a wit that could be +sharp-edged, and perhaps resentful too of that nameless something about her +striking personality that made them feel their inferiority. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was quite different, and her unfailing spirits, her vigorous championing of +the oppressed, or scathing denunciation of anything sneaky and mean, made them +all look up to her, and love her, whether she knew or not. +</p> + +<p> +Even the governess felt her compelling attraction, and would often, by a timely +word, save her from the consequences of some forgetful moment. At the same +time, the one who warned Miss Walton against the possible ill results of the +girl’s growing love for Lorraine little understood the nature she had to +deal with. +</p> + +<p> +When Hal found herself in the private sanctum, being gently admonished +concerning a friendship that was thought to be growing too strong, she was +quick instantly to resent the slur on her chum. She had been sent for +immediately after “evening prep.,” and having, as usual, inked her +fingers generously, and rubbed an ink-smudge across her face, to say nothing of +really disgracefully tumbled hair, she looked a comical enough object standing +before the impressive presence of the head mistress. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Hal,” Miss Walton remonstrated, “can’t you +even keep tidy for an hour in the evening?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not when it’s German night,” answered outspoken Hal; +“where to put the verbs, and how to split them, makes my hair stand on +end, and the ink squirm out of the pot.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Walton tried to look severe, remarking: “Don’t be frivolous +here, my dear”; but, as Hal described it later, “she looked as if +having so often to be sedate was beginning to make her tired.” +</p> + +<p> +But when she proceeded to explain to Hal that neither she nor her sister were +easy in their minds about her growing devotion to Lorraine, Hal’s +expressive mouth began to look rather stern, and neither the ink-smudges nor +the tousled hair could rob her of a certain naïve dignity as she asked, +“Are you implying anything against Lorraine?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, my dear, certainly not,” Miss Walton replied, feeling +slightly at a loss to express herself, “but I have never encouraged a +violent friendship between two girls that is apt to make them hold aloof from +the others, and be continually in one another’s society. And in this +instance, Lorraine being so much older than you, and of a temperament hardly +likely to appeal to your brother, as a desirable one in your great +friend—” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not asking Dudley to make her his great friend—” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t interrupt me, dear. I am only speaking of what I am +perfectly aware are your brother’s feeling concerning you; and seeing you +have neither father nor mother, I feel my responsibility and his the +greater.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what is the matter with Lorraine?” Hal cried, growing a little +exasperated. “She is not nearly so frivolous as I am, and works far +harder.” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Walton hesitated a little. “We feel she is naturally rather +worldly-minded and ambitious, whereas you—” She paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Whereas I am a simpleton,” suggested Hal, with a mischievous light +in her eyes. “Well, then, dear Miss Walton, how fortunate for me that +some one clever and briljant is willing to give me her friendship and help to +lift me out of my slough of simpletondom!” +</p> + +<p> +Miss Walton looked up with a reproof on her lips, but it died away, and a new +expression came into her eyes as she seemed to see something in this unruly +pupil she had not before suspected. Hal still looked as if a smothered sense of +injustice might presently explode into hot words; but in the meantime the air +of dignity stood its ground in spite of smudges and untidiness. +</p> + +<p> +Neither spoke for a moment, and then Miss Walton remarked: “You do not +mean to be guided by me in this matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine is my friend,” Hal answered. “I cannot let myself +listen to anything that suggests a slur upon her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not even if your brother expressed a wish on the subject?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not ask Dudley to let me choose his friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is quite a different matter. He is fifteen years your +senior.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was silent. She stood with her hands behind her, and her head held high, +and her clear eyes very straight to the front; well-knit, well-built, with a +promise of that vague something which is so much stronger a factor in the world +than mere beauty. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Walton, who necessarily saw much of the mediocre and commonplace in her +life-work of turning growing girls into presentable young women, felt her +feelings undergo a further change. She also had the tact to see an appeal would +go farther than mere advice. +</p> + +<p> +“I was only thinking of you, Hal,” she said, a trifle tiredly. +“I have nothing against Lorraine, except that she is dangerously +attractive if she likes, and her love of admiration and excitement does not +make her a very wise friend for a girl of your age. You are different, and your +paths are likely to lead far apart in the future. It did not seem to me +desirable you should grow too fond of each other.” +</p> + +<p> +Even as she spoke she found herself wondering what Hal would say, and in an +unlooked-for way interested. +</p> + +<p> +Hal answered promptly: +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think our lives will lie apart. Both of us will have to be +breadwinners at any rate, and that will be a bond.” +</p> + +<p> +Her mobile face seemed to change. “Miss Walton, I’m devoted to +Lorraine. I always shall be. But you needn’t be anxious. The stronger +influence is not where you think. I can bend Lorraine’s will, but she +cannot bend mine. It will always be so. And nothing that you nor any one can +say will make me change to her.” +</p> + +<p> +They said little more, but when she was alone the head mistress stood silently +for some minutes looking into the dying embers of her fire. Then she uttered to +herself an enigmatical sentence: +</p> + +<p> +“Beauty will give to Lorraine the great career; but the greater woman +will be Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after that Lorraine departed, and about a year later embarked in the +theatrical world. +</p> + +<p> +No one was surprised, but very adverse opinions were expressed among the girls +concerning her success or otherwise; those who were jealous, or who had felt +slighted during her short reign as school beauty, condemning any possible +likelihood of a hit. +</p> + +<p> +Hal said very little. She was already reaching out tentacles to the wider +world, where schoolgirl criticisms would be mere prattle; and it was far more +serious to her to wonder what Brother Dudley would think of her having an +actress for her greatest friend. +</p> + +<p> +She foresaw rocks ahead, but smiled humorously to herself in spite of them. +</p> + +<p> +“What a tussle there’ll be!” was her thought, “and how +in the world am I to convince Dudley that Lorraine does not represent a +receptacle for all the deadly sins? Heigho! The mere fact of my disagreeing +will persuade him I am already contaminated, and he will see us both heading, +like fire-engines, for the nethermost hell.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<p> +If Dudley Pritchard’s imagination did not actually picture the lurid and +violent descent Hal suggested, it certainly did view with the utmost alarm his +lively young sister’s friendship with a fully fledged actress. +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact, Miss Walton’s prognostications concerning his +attitude to Lorraine Vivian, even as a schoolgirl, had been instantly confirmed +upon their first meeting. +</p> + +<p> +For no particular reason he disapproved of her. That was rather typical of +Dudley. He disapproved of a good many things without quite knowing why, or +being at any particular pains to find out. +</p> + +<p> +Not that it made him bigoted. He could in fact be fairly tolerant; but as Hal +affectionately observed, Dudley was so apt to pat himself on the back for his +toleration towards things that it would never have occured to most persons +needed tolerating. +</p> + +<p> +She knew perfectly well that he considered himself very tolerant towards much +that was to be deprecated in her, but, far from resenting his attitude, she +saw chiefly the humorous side, and managed to glean a good deal of quiet +amusement from it. +</p> + +<p> +Considering the fifteen years’ difference in their ages, and the fact +that Dudley was a hard-working architect in London, seeing life on all sides, +while Hal was still a hoydenish schoolgirl, it was really remarkable how +thoroughly she grasped and understood his character, and a great deal +concerning the world in general, while he seemed to remain at his first +decisions concerning her and most things. +</p> + +<p> +It was just perhaps the difference between the book-student and the +life-student. Dudley had always had a passion for books and for his profession. +His clever brain was a well of knowledge concerning ancient architectures and +relics of antiquity. He studied them because he loved them, and, before all +things else, to him they seemed worth while. +</p> + +<p> +He loved his sister also—he loved her better than any one, but it would +never have occured to him that she should be studied, or that there was +anything in her to study. To him she was quite an ordinary girl, rather +nice-looking when she was neat, but with a most unfortunate lack of the sedate +dignity and discretion that he considered essential to the typically admirable +woman. +</p> + +<p> +That there might be other traits in their place, equally admirable, did not +occur to him. They ware not at any rate the traits he most admired. +</p> + +<p> +Hal, on the other hand, was different in every respect. She loathed books, and +learning, and what she called “dead old bones and rubbish.” But she +loved human nature, and studied it in every phase she could. +</p> + +<p> +Left at a very tender age to Dudley’s sole care and protection, she had +to grow up without the enfolding, sympathetic love of a mother, or the gay +companionship of brothers and sisters. Not in the least depressed, she started +off at an early age in quest of adventure to see what the world was like +outside the four walls of their home. +</p> + +<p> +Brought back, sometimes by a policeman, with whom she had already become on the +friendliest terms, sometimes in a cab in which some one else had placed her, +sometimes by a kindly stranger, she would yet slip away again on the first +opportunity, into the crush of mankind. Punishment and expostulation were alike +useless; Hal was just as fascinated with people as Dudley was with books, and +where her nature called she fearlessly followed. +</p> + +<p> +Through this roving trait she picked up an amount of commonplace, everyday +knowledge that would have dumbfoundered the clever young architect, had he been +in the least able to comprehend it. But while he dipped enthusiastically into +bygone ages, and won letters and honours in his profession, she asked questions +about life in the present, and grappled with the problem of everyday existence +and the peculiarities of human nature, in a way that made her largely his +superior, despite his letters and honours. +</p> + +<p> +And best of all was her complete understanding of him. Dudley fondly imagined +he was fulfilling to the best possible endeavours his obligations of love and +guardianship to his young sister. The young sister, with her tender, quizzical +understanding, regarded him as a mere child, with a deliciously humorous way of +always taking himself very seriously; a brilliant brain, an irritating fund of +superiority, and something altogether apart that made him dearer than heaven +and earth and all things therein to her. +</p> + +<p> +Hal might be dearer than all else to Dudley, without finding herself loved in +any way out of the ordinary, seeing how little he cared much about except his +profession; but to be the beloved of all, to an eager, passionate, intense +nature like hers, meant that in her heart she had placed him upon a pedestal, +and, while fondly having her little smile over his shortcomings, yet loved him +with an all-embracing love. He did not suspect it, and he would not have +understood it if he had; being rather of the opinion that, considering all he +had tried to be to her, she might have loved him enough in return to make a +greater effort to please him. +</p> + +<p> +Her obdurate resistance during the first stage of his disapproval of Lorraine +Vivian increased this feeling considerably. He felt that if she really cared +for him she should be willing to be guided by his judgment; and while +perceiving, just as Miss Walton had done, that she meant to have her own way, +he had less perspicacity to perceive also that nameless trait which, for want +of a better word, we sometimes call grit, and which dimly proclaimed she might +be trusted to follow her own strength of character. +</p> + +<p> +When, later, his attitude of displeasure increased a thousandfold. +</p> + +<p> +He was not told of it just at first. Hal was then in the throes of convincing +him that her particular talents lay in the direction of secretarial work and +journalism, rather than governessing or idleness, and persuading him to make +arrangements at once for her to learn shorthand and typewriting with a view to +becoming the private secretary of a well-known editor of one of the leading +newspapers. +</p> + +<p> +The editor in question was a distant connection, and quite willing to take her +if she proved herself capable, recognising, through his skill at reading +character, that she might eventually prove invaluable in other ways than mere +letter-writing. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley, seeing no farther than the fact of the City office, set his face +resolutely against it as long as he could; but, of course, in the end Hal +carried the day. Then came the shock of the knowledge that Lorraine had gone on +the stage; and if, as had been said before, he did not actually picture the +lurid exit to the lower regions Hal gave him credit for, he was sufficiently +upset to have wakeful nights and many anxious, worried hours. +</p> + +<p> +And to make it worse, Hal would not even be serious. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t look like that, Dudley!” she cried; “we +really are not in any immediate danger of selling our souls to the Prince of +Darkness. You dear old solemnsides! Just because Lorraine is going on the +stage, I believe you already see me in spangles, jumping through a hoop. Or +rather ‘trying to’, because it is a dead cert. I should miss the +hoop, and do a sort of double somersault over the horse’s tail.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley shut his firm lips a little more tightly, and looked hard at his boots, +without vouchsafing a reply. +</p> + +<p> +“As a matter of fact,” continued the incorrigible, “you ought +to perceive how beautifully life balances things, by giving a dangerously +attractive person like Lorraine a matter-of-fact, commonplace pal like myself +to restrain her, and at the same time ward off possible dangers from various +unoffending humans, who might fall hurtfully under her spell.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is only the danger to you that I have anything to do with.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh fie, Dudley! as if I mattered half as much as Humanity with a capital +H.” +</p> + +<p> +“To me, personally, you matter far more in this particular case.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yet, really, the chief danger to me is that I might unconsciously +catch some reflection of Lorraine’s charm and become dangerously +attractive myself, instead of just an outspoken hobbledehoy no one takes +seriously.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not afraid of that,” he said, evoking a peal of laughter of +which he could not even see the point; “but since you are quite +determined to go into the City as a secretary, instead of procuring a nice +comfortable home as a companion, or staying quietly here to improve your mind, +I naturally feel you will encounter quite enough dangers without getting mixed +up in a theatrical set. Though, really,” in a grumbling voice, “I +can’t see why you don’t stay at home like any sensible girl. If I +am not rich, I have at least enough for two.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if I stayed at home, and lived on you, Dudley, I should feel I had +to improve my mind by way of making you some return; and you can’t think +how dreadfully my mind hates the idea of being improved. And if I went to some +dear old lady as companion, she would be sure to die in an apoplectic fit in a +month, and I should be charged with manslaughter. And I can’t teach, +because I don’t know anything. The only serious danger I shall run as Mr. +Elliott’s secretary will be putting an occasional addition of my own to +his letters, in a fit of exasperation, or driving his sub-editor mad; and he +seems willing to risk that.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are likely to run greater dangers than that if you allow yourself to +be drawn into a theatrical circle.” +</p> + +<p> +“What sort of dangers?… Oh, my dear, saintly episcopal architect, what +foundations of darkness are you building upon now, out of a little +old-fashioned, out-of-date prejudice which you might have dug up from some of +your studies in antiquity books? There are just as many dangers outside the +theatrical world as in it, for the sort of woman dangers are attractive to; and +little Sunday-school teachers have come to grief, while famous actresses have +won through unscathed.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley’s face expressed both surprise and distaste. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder what you know about it anyway. I think you are talking at +random. Certainly no dangers would come near you if you listened to my wishes +and settled down quietly at home. If you don’t care about living in +Bloomsbury, I will take a small house in the suburbs, and you can amuse +yourself with the housekeeping, and tennis, and that sort of thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when you want to marry?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not want to marry. I am wedded to my profession.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Dudley!… Dudley!…” She slipped off the table where she had been +jauntily seated, and came and stood beside him, passing her arm through his. +“Can’t you see I’d just die of a little house in the suburbs, +looking after the housekeeping: it’s the most dreadful and awful thing on +the face of the earth. I’m not a bit sorry for slaves, and prisoners, and +shipwrecked sailors, and East-end starvelings; every bit of sympathy I’ve +got is used up for the girls who’ve got to stay in hundrum homes, and be +nothing, and do nothing, but just finished young ladies. Work is the finest +thing in the world. It’s just splendid to have something real to do, and +be paid for it. Why, they can’t even go to prison, or be hungry, or +anything except possible wives for possible men who may or may not happen to +want them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you are talking arrant nonsense,” Dudley replied +frigidly. “I don’t know where in the world you get all your queer +ideas. Woman’s sphere is most decidedly the home; you seem +to—” but a small hand was clapped vigorously over his mouth, and +eyes of feigned horror searching his. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know, I’m half afraid you’ve lived in your musty old +books so long, Dudley,” with mock seriousness, “that you’ve +lost all count of time. It is about a thousand years since sane and sensible +men believed all that drivel about women’s only sphere being the home, +and since women were content to be mere chattels, stuck in with the rest of the +furniture, to look after the children. Nowadays the jolly, sensible woman that +a man likes for wife or pal, is very often a busy worker.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let her work busily at home, then!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, you’ll want me to crochet antimacassars next, or cross-stitch +a sampler! Just imagine the thing if I tried! It would have dreadful results, +because I should be sure to use bad language—I couldn’t help it; +and the article I should concoct would make people faint, or turn cross-eyed or +colour-blind. I shan’t do nearly so much harm in the end as a City +secretary with an actress pal.” +</p> + +<p> +“One thing is quite certain: you mean, as usual, to have your own way, +and my feelings go for nothing at all.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned away from her, and took up his hat to go out. +</p> + +<p> +“Your protestations of affection, Hal, are apt to seem both insincere and +out of place.” +</p> + +<p> +The tears came swiftly to her eyes, and she took a quick step towards him, but +he had gone, and closed the door after him before she could speak. She watched +his retreating figure, with the tears still lingering, and then suddenly she +smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyhow, I haven’t got to be sweet and gentle and +housekeepy,” was her comforting reflection. “I’m going to be +a real worker, earning real money, and have Lorraine for my pal as well. Some +day Dudley will see it is all right, and I’m only about half as black as +he supposes, and that I love him better than anything else at heart. In the +meantime, as I’m likely to get a biggish dose of dignified disapproval +over this theatre business, I’d better ask Dick to come out to tea this +afternoon to buck me up for what lies ahead. Goodness! what a boon a jolly +cousin is when you happen to have been mated with your great-aunt for a +brother.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<p> +For a few years after that particular disagreement nothing of special note +happened. Hal got quickly through her course of shorthand and typewriting and +became Mr. Elliott’s private secretary and general factotum, which last +included an occasional flight into journalism as a reporter. Naturally, since +this sometimes took her to out-of-the-way places, and brought her in contact +with human oddities, she loved it beyond all things, and was ever ready for a +jaunt, no matter whither it took her. +</p> + +<p> +Brother Dudley was discreetly left a little in the dark about it, because +nothing in the world would ever have persuaded him that a girl of Hal’s +age could run promiscuously about London unmolested. Hal knew better. She was +perfectly well able to acquire a stony stare that baffled the most dauntless of +impertinent intruders; and she had, moreover, an upright, grenadier-like +carriage, and an air of business-like energy that were safeguards in +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +A great deal of persuasive tact was necessary, however, to win Dudley’s +consent to a year in America, whither Mr. Elliott had to go on business; but on +Mrs. Elliott calling upon him herself to explain that she also was going, and +would take care of Hal, he reluctantly consented. +</p> + +<p> +Curiously enough, it was that year in a great measure that changed the current +of Lorraine’s life. She came to the cross-roads, and took the wrong turn. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps Miss Walton, with her knowledge of girls, could have foretold it. She +might have said, in that enigmatical way of hers, “If Lorraine comes to +the cross-roads, where life offers a short cut to fame, instead of a long, +wearisome drudgery, she will probably take it. Hal will score off her own bat, +or not at all. Lorraine will only care about gaining her end.” +</p> + +<p> +Anyhow the cross-roads came, and Hal, the stronger, was not there. As a matter +of fact, for some little time the two had not seen much of each other. Lorraine +was touring in the provinces, and rarely had time to come to London. Hal was +tied by her work, and could not spare the time to go to Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +There was for a little while a cessation of intercourse. Neither was the least +bit less fond, but circumstances kept them apart, and they could only wait +until opportunity brought them together again. Both were too busy for lengthy +correspondence, and only wrote short letters occasionally, just to assure each +other the friendship held firm, and absence made no real difference. +</p> + +<p> +Then Hal went off to America, and while she was away Lorraine came to her +cross-roads. +</p> + +<p> +It is hardly necessary to review in detail what her life had been since she +joined the theatrical profession. It is mostly hard work and disillusion and +disappointment for all in the beginning, and only a very small percentage ever +win through to the forefront. +</p> + +<p> +But for Lorraine, on the top of all the rest, was a mercenary, unscrupulous, +intriguing mother, who added tenfold to what must inevitably have been a heavy +burden and strain—a mother who taxed her utmost powers of endurance, and +brought her shame as well as endless worry; and yet to whom, let it be noted +down now, to her everlasting credit, no matter in what other way she may have +erred, she never turned a deaf ear nor treated with the smallest unkindness. +</p> + +<p> +It would be impossible to gauge just what Lorraine had to go through in her +first few years on the stage. She seemed to make no headway at all, and at the +end of the third year she felt herself as far as ever from getting her chance. +</p> + +<p> +That she was brilliantly clever and brilliantly attractive had not so far +weighed the balance to her side. There were many others also clever and +attractive. She felt she had practically everything except the one thing +needed—influence. +</p> + +<p> +Thus her spirits were at a very low ebb. She was still touring the provinces, +and heartily sick of all the discomfort involved. Dingy lodgings, hurried train +journeys, much bickering and jealousy in the company with which she was acting, +and a great deal of domestic worry over that handsome, extravagant mother, who +had once taken her, in company with the so-called uncle, to the select seminary +of the Misses Walton. +</p> + +<p> +How her mother managed to live and dress as if she were rich had puzzled +Lorraine many times in those days; but when she left the shelter of those +narrow, restricting walls, where windows were whitewashed so that even boys +might not be seen passing by, she learnt many things all too quickly. +</p> + +<p> +She learnt something about the uncles too. One of them was at great pains to +try and teach her, but with hideous shapes and suggestions trying to crowd her +mind, the thought of Hal’s freshness still acted as a sort of protection +and kept her untainted. +</p> + +<p> +A little later, after she had commenced to earn a salary, she found that +directly the family purse was empty, and creditors objectionably insistent, she +herself had to come to the rescue. +</p> + +<p> +There were some miserable days then. It was useless to upbraid her mother. She +always posed as the injured one, and could not see that in robbing her child of +a real home she was strewing her path with dangers as well, by placing her in +an ambiguous, comfortless position, from which any relief seemed worth while. +</p> + +<p> +Then at last came the welcome news that Mrs. Vivian had procured a post as +lady-housekeeper to a rich stockbroker in Kensington, who had also a large +interest in a West-end theatre. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine read the glowing terms in which her mother described her new home and +employer with a deep sense of relief, seeing in the new venture a probable +escape for herself from those relentless demands upon her own scanty purse. A +month later came the paragraph, in a voluminous epistle: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Raynor says you are to make his house your home whenever you are +free. He insists upon giving you a floor all to yourself, like a little flat, +where you can receive your friends undisturbed, and feel you have a little home +of your own. I am quite certain also that he will try to help you in your +career through his interest in the Greenway Theatre.” +</p> + +<p> +If Lorraine wondered at all concerning this unknown man’s interest in her +welfare she kept it to herself. +</p> + +<p> +A home instead of the dingy lodgings she had grown to hate, and the prospect of +influential help, were sufficiently alluring to drown all other reflections. +</p> + +<p> +When the tour was over she went direct to Kensington, to make her home with her +mother until her next engagement. She was already too much a woman of the world +not to notice at once that her mother and her host’s relations seemed +scarcely those of employee and employer, and there was a little passage of arms +between herself and Mrs. Vivian the next morning. +</p> + +<p> +In reply to a long harangue, in which that lady set forth the advantages +Lorraine was to gain from her mother’s perspicacity in obtaining such a +post, she asked rather shortly: +</p> + +<p> +“And why in the world should Mr. Raynor do all this for me, simply +because you are his housekeeper?” +</p> + +<p> +A red spot burned in Mrs. Vivian’s cheek as she replied: “He does +it because he wants me to stay; and I have told him I cannot do so unless he +makes it possible for me to give you a comfortable, happy home here.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine’s lips curled with a scorn she did not attempt to conceal, but +she only stood silently gazing across the Park. +</p> + +<p> +She had already decided to make the best of her mother’s deficiencies, +seeing she was almost the only relative she possessed, but she had a natural +loathing of hypocrisy, and wished she would leave facts alone instead of +attempting to gloss them over. Ever since she left school she had been obliged +to live in lodgings, because her mother would not take the trouble to try and +provide anything more of a home. +</p> + +<p> +It was a little too much, therefore, that she should now allude to her maternal +solicitude because it happened to suit her purpose. She felt herself growing +hard and callous and bitter under the strain of the early struggle to succeed, +handicapped as she was; and because of one or two ugly experiences that came in +the path of such a warfare. She was losing heart also, and feeling bitterly the +stinging whip of circumstances. As she stood gazing across the Park, some girls +about her own age rode past, returning from their morning gallop, talking and +laughing gaily together. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine found herself wondering what life would be like with her beauty and +talent if there were no vulgarly extravagant, unprincipled mother in the +background, no insistent need to earn money, no gnawing ambition for a fame she +already began to feel might prove an empty joy. +</p> + +<p> +She had not seen Hal for a year, and she felt an ache for her. In the shifting, +unreliable, soul-numbing atmosphere of her stage career, she still looked upon +Hal as a City of Refuge; and when she had not seen her for some time she felt +herself drifting towards unknown shoals and quicksands. +</p> + +<p> +And, unfortunately, Hal was away in America, with the editor to whom she was +secretary and typist, and not very likely to be back for three months. +</p> + +<p> +No; there was nothing for it but to make the best of her mother’s +explanation and the comfortable home at her feet. +</p> + +<p> +As for Mr. Raynor himself, though he seemed to Lorraine vulgarly proud of his +self-made position, vulgarly ostentatious of his wealth, and vulgarly familiar +with both herself and her mother, she could not actually lay any offence to his +charge. And in any case, he undoubtedly could help her, if he chose, to procure +at last the coveted part in a London theatre. With this end in view, she laid +herself out to please him and to make the most of her opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +And in this way she came to those cross-roads which had to decide her future. +</p> + +<p> +Before she had been a week in the house, Frank Raynor deserted his housekeeper +altogether, and fell in love with the housekeeper’s daughter. Within a +fortnight he had laid all his possessions at Lorraine’s feet, promising +her not only wealth and devotion, but the brilliant career she so coveted. +</p> + +<p> +The man was generous, but he was no saint. Give him herself, and she would have +the world at her feet if he could bring it there. Give any less, and he would +have no more to say to her whatsoever. +</p> + +<p> +It was the cross-roads. +</p> + +<p> +Lorrain struggled manfully for a month. She hated the idea of marrying a man +better suited in every way to her mother. She dreaded and hated the thought of +what had perhaps been between them; yet she was afraid to ask any question that +might corroborate her worst fears. +</p> + +<p> +All that was best in her of delicate and refined sensitiveness surged upward, +and she longed to run away to some remote island far removed from the harsh +realities of life. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, how could she? Without money, without influence, without rich friends, +what did the world at large hold for her? +</p> + +<p> +How much easier to go with the tide—seize her opportunity—and dare +Fate to do her worst. +</p> + +<p> +At the last there was a bitter scene between mother and daughter. +</p> + +<p> +“If you refuse Frank Raynor now, you ruin the two of us,” was Mrs. +Vivian’s angry indictment. “What can we expect from him any more? +How are you ever going to get another such chance to make a hit?” +</p> + +<p> +“And what if it ruins my life to marry him?” Lorraine asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Such nonsense! The man can give you everything. What in the world more +do you want? He is good enough looking; he could pass as a gentleman, and he is +rich.” +</p> + +<p> +A sudden nauseous spasm at all the ugliness of life shook Lorraine. She turned +on her mother swiftly, scarcely knowing what she said, and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“You are anxious enough to sell me to him. What is he to you anyway? What +has he ever been to you?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vivian blanched before the suddenness of the attack, but she held her +ground. +</p> + +<p> +“You absurd child, what in the world could he be to me? It is easy enough +to see he has no eyes for any one but you.” +</p> + +<p> +“And before I came?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine took a step forward, and for a moment the two women faced each other +squarely. The eyes of each were a little hard, the expressions a little flinty; +but behind the older woman’s was a scornful, unscrupulous indifference to +any moral aspect; behind the younger’s a hunted, rather pitiful +hopelessness. The ugly things of life had caught the one in their talons and +held her there for good and all, more or less a willing slave, the soul of the +younger was still alive, still conscious, still capable of distinguishing the +good and desiring it. +</p> + +<p> +The mother turned away at last with a little harsh laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Before you came he was nothing to me. He never has been anything.” +</p> + +<p> +Without waiting for Lorraine to speak, she turned again, and added: +</p> + +<p> +“If you weren’t a fool, you would perceive he is treating you +better than ninety-nine men in a hundred. He has suggested marriage. The others +might not have done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I’m not a fool in that way,” came the bitter reply, +“but I’ve wondered once or twice what your attitude would have +been, supposing—er—he had been one of the ninety-nine!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vivian was saved replying by the unexpected appearance of Frank Raynor +himself. Entering the room with a quick step, he suddenly stopped short and +looked from one to the other. Something in their expressions told him what had +transpired. He turned sharply on the mother. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve been speaking to Lorraine about me. I told you I +wouldn’t have it. I know your bullying ways, and I said she was to be +left to decide for herself.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine saw an angry retort on her mother’s lips, and hurriedly left the +room. She put on her hat and slipped away into the Park. What was she to do?… +where, oh where was Hal! +</p> + +<p> +Within three months the short cut was taken. Lorraine was engaged to play a +leading part at the Greenway Theatre, and she was the wife of Frank Raynor. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<p> +When Hal came back from America and heard about Lorraine’s marriage, it +was a great shock to her. At first she could hardly bring herself to believe it +at all. Nothing thoroughly convinced her until she stood in the pretty +Kensington house and beheld Mrs. Vivian’s pronounced air of triumph, and +Lorraine’s somewhat forced attempts at joyousness. +</p> + +<p> +It was one of the few occasions in her life when Lorraine was nervous. She did +not want Hal to know the sordid facts; and she did not believe she would be +able to hide them from her. +</p> + +<p> +When Hal, from a mass of somewhat jerky, contradictory information, had gleaned +that the new leading part at the London theatre had been gained through the +middle-aged bridegroom’s influence, her comment was sufficiently direct. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s why you did it, is it? Well, I only hope you +don’t hate the sight of him already.” +</p> + +<p> +“How absurd you are, Hal!... Of course I don’t hate the sight of +him. He’s a dear. He gives me everything in the world I want, if he +possibly can.” +</p> + +<p> +“How dull. It’s much more fun getting a few things for oneself. And +when the only thing in all the world you want is your freedom, do you imagine +he’ll give you that?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine got up suddenly, thrusting her hands out before her, as if to ward off +some vague fear. +</p> + +<p> +“Hal, you are brutal today. What is the use of talking like that now?... +Why did you go to America?... Perhaps if you hadn’t gone—” +</p> + +<p> +“Give me a cigarette,” said Hal, with a little catch in her voice, +“I want soothing. At the present moment you’re a greater strain +than Dudley talking down at me from a pyramid of worn-out prejudices. I +don’t know why my two Best-Belovèds should both be cast in a mould to +weigh so heavily on my shoulders.” +</p> + +<p> +Sitting on the table as usual, she puffed vigorously at her cigarette, blowing +clouds of smoke, through which Lorraine could not see that her eyes were dim +with tears. For Hal’s unerring instinct told her that, at a critical +moment, Lorraine had taken a wrong path. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine, however, was not looking in Hal’s direction. She had moved to +the window, and stood with her back to the room, gazing across the Park, hiding +likewise misty, tell-tale eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, as Hal continued silent, she turned to her with a swift movement of +half-expressed protest. +</p> + +<p> +“Hal! you shan’t condemn me, you shan’t even judge me. +Probably you can’t understand, because your life is so +different—always has been so different; but at least you can try to be +the same. What difference has it made between you and me anyhow?... What +difference need it make? I have got my chance now, and I am going to be a +brilliant success, instead of a struggling beginner. What does the rest matter +between you and me?” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t matter between you and me. But it matters to you. I +feel I’d give my right hand if you hadn’t done it.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could I help doing it? Oh, I can’t explain; it’s no use. +We all have to fight our own battles in the long run—friends or no +friends. Only the friends worth having stick to one, even when it has been a +nasty, unpleasant sort of battle.” +</p> + +<p> +That hard look, with the hopelessness behind it, was coming back into +Lorraine’s eyes. She was too loyal to tell even Hal what her mother had +been like the last few months before the critical moment came, and at the +critical moment itself. She could not explain just how many difficulties her +marriage had seemed a way out from. +</p> + +<p> +There had been other men who had not proposed marriage. There had been +insistent creditors—her mother’s as well as her own. There had been +that deep hunger for something approaching a real home, and for a sense of +security, in a life necessarily full of insecurities. +</p> + +<p> +Obdurate, difficult theatre managers, powerful, jealous fellow-actresses, ill +health, bad luck! Behind the glamour and the glitter of the stage, what a world +of carking care, of littleness, meanness, jealousy, and intrigue she had found +herself called upon to do battle with. +</p> + +<p> +And now, if only her husband proved amenable, proved livable with, how +different everything would be? But in any case Hal must be there. Somehow +nothing of all this showed in her face as she fronted the smoker, still blowing +clouds of smoke before her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What has become of Rod?” Hal asked suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine winced a little, but held her ground steadily. +</p> + +<p> +“Rod had to go. What could Rod and I have done with £500 a +year?” +</p> + +<p> +“My own”—from the blunt-speaking one—“it surely +seems as if you might have thought of that before you allowed Rod to run all +over the country after you, and get ‘gated’, and very nearly +‘sent down’, and spend a year or two’s income ahead in trying +to give you pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine flung herself down on the sofa with a callous air, and beat her foot +on the ground impatiently. The parting with Rod was another thing she did not +propose to describe to Hal. It had hurt too badly, for one thing. +</p> + +<p> +“When you moralise, Hal, you are detestable. Besides, it’s so +cheap. Any one can sit on a table and hurl sarcasm about. I daresay in my place +you would have married Rod, from a sense of duty or something, and ruined all +the rest of his life. Or perhaps, after gently breaking the news, you’d +have let him come dangling round to be ‘mothered’. Well, I +don’t say I haven’t been a bit of a brute to him; but anyhow I +tried to do the square thing in the end. I cut the whole affair dead off. I +told him I would not see him nor write to him again. I’ve since sent two +letters back unopened, and though you mightn’t think it, I was just +eating my heart out for a sight of him. But what’s the good! He’s +got to follow in the footsteps of whole centuries of highly respectable, +complacent, fat old bankers. His father and mother would have a fit if he +didn’t develop into the traditional fat old banker himself, and beget +another of the same ilk to follow on. +</p> + +<p> +“I daresay with me he would have developed a little more soul, and a +little less stomach—but what of it?” with a graceful shrug. +“For the good of his country it is written that he shall acquire weight +and stolidity, instead of an ideal soul, and for the benefit of posterity I +sentenced him to speedy rotundity, and dull respectability, and the begetting +of future bankers. He will presently marry some one named Alice or Annie, and +invite me to the first christening in a spirit of Christian forgiveness.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal smiled more soberly than was her wont. +</p> + +<p> +“And what of you?” +</p> + +<p> +“What of me?... Oh, I don’t come into that sort of scheme. I never +ought to have been there at all. Still, I’m glad I showed him he’d +got something in himself beside the stale accumulations of many banker +ancestors; if it’s only for the sake of the next little banker, who may +want to lay claim to an individual soul.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it hurt, Lorraine?... don’t tell me it didn’t hurt +after... after—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, it hurt,” with a low, bitter laugh; “but what of +that either? It’s generally the woman who gets hurt; but I suppose I knew +I was riding for a fall.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose you are any more hurt than he is. You know he +worshipped you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; only presently it will be easy for him to get back into the old, +orthodox groove with ‘Alice’, and persuade himself that I was only +a youthful infatuation, whereas I— Oh, what does it matter, Hal! Come out +of that ‘great-aunt’ mood, and let’s be jolly while we can. +I’ll ring for coffee and liqueurs, and then we’ll make lots of +ripping plans to see everything in England worth seeing—until I can find +time to go abroad.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal sprang off her table. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, very well,” she rejoined, “Let’s get rowdy and +sing the song ‘Love may go hang.’ When I’ve got it over with +Dudley, we’ll just go straight on, keeping a good look out for the next +fence. You’d better tell me something about this paternal husband of +yours, just to prepare me for our meeting. He doesn’t put his knife in +his mouth, and that sort of thing, does he?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; not quite so bad. His worst offence at present, I think, is to call +me ‘wifey’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wifey!” in accents of horror. “Lorraine, how awful!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but I’m breaking him of it by degrees: that and his fondness +for a soft felt hat.” +</p> + +<p> +They sat on chatting together with apparent gayness, but Hal’s heart was +no lighter after she had duly been presented to the paternal husband, as she +called him, and she journeyed solemnly home on a bus, feeling rather as if she +had been to a funeral. She tried at first to hide her feelings from +Dudley—no difficult matter at all, since he usually contributed little +but a slightly absent “yes” and “no” to the +conversation, and if the conversation languished he took small notice. +</p> + +<p> +However, he had to be told, and Hal rarely troubled to do much beating about +the bush, so, in order to rouse him speedily and thoroughly, just as he was +settling down to his newspaper she hurled the news at his head without any +preliminary preparation. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think Lorraine has done now? Been and gone and married a man +old enough to be her father!” +</p> + +<p> +“Married!... Lorraine Vivian married!” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley’s newspaper went down suddenly on to his knee. +</p> + +<p> +Hal had squatted on the hearthrug, tailor fashion, before the fire, and she +gave a little swaying movement backward and forward, to signify the +affirmative. He looked at her a moment as if to make sure she was not joking, +and then said, with sarcastic lips: +</p> + +<p> +“A man old enough to be her father?... then it isn’t even Rod +Burrell!” +</p> + +<p> +“No; it isn’t even Rod Burrell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some one with more money and influence, I suppose? Well, I don’t +know that Burrell needs any one’s condolences.” +</p> + +<p> +“He does, badly.” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t for long. The Burrells are a sensible lot, and no +sensible man frets over a heartless woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine is not a heartless woman. She has too much heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is certainly very generous with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know which is the more detestable, a sarcastic man or a +sensible one.” Hal shut her lips tightly, and stared at the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“I imagine you hardly expect any sort of man to admire Miss +Vivian’s action.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t matter in the least what ‘any sort of man’ +thinks. I am only concerned with the possibility that she will weary of +matrimony quickly and be miserable. I told you, because I wanted you to hear it +from me instead of from a newspaper.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley suddenly grew more serious, as he realised how it must in a measure +affect Hal also. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“He is a stockbroker, named Frank Raynor, aged fifty.” +</p> + +<p> +“And of course she married him for his money?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so. Also he partly owns the Greenway Theatre.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pshaw . . . it’s a mere bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was silent. She had rested her chin on her hands, and was now gazing +steadily at the embers. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course if he is not a gentleman, you will have to leave off seeing so +much of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. She would need me all the more.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is quite possible,” drily; “but you owe something to +yourself and me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t owe failing a friend to any one. But he is a gentleman +almost—a self-made one, and he doesn’t let you forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you’ve seen him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, today.” Her lips suddenly twitched with irresistible humour. +“He called me ‘Hal’ and Lorraine ‘wifey.’ We bore +it bravely.” +</p> + +<p> +“What business had he to call you by your Christian name?” +</p> + +<p> +“None. I suppose he just felt like it. He also alluded to my new hat as a +bonnet. Also he used to be an office-boy or something. He seemed inordinately +proud of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I loathe a self-made man who is always cramming it down one’s +throat. I don’t see how you can have much in common with either of them +any more.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal got up, as if she did not want to pursue the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“It won’t make the smallest difference to Lorraine and me,” +she said. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley knit his forehead in vexation and perplexity, remarking: +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you mean to be obstinate about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” with a little laugh; “only firm.” She came round +to his chair and leant over the back it. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear old long-face, don’t look so worried. None of the dreadful +things have happened yet that you expected to come of my friendship with +Lorraine. The nearest approach to them was the celebrated young author I +interviewed, who asked me to go to Paris with him for a fortnight, and he was a +clergyman’s son who hadn’t even heard of Lorraine. Next, I think, +was the old gentleman who offered to take me to the White City. I don’t +seem much the worse for either encounter, do I? and it’s silly to meet +trouble halfway.” +</p> + +<p> +She bent her head and kissed him on the forehead. +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley,” she finished mischievously, “what are you going to +give Lorraine for a wedding-present?” +</p> + +<p> +“I might buy her the book, ‘How to be Happy though +Married,’” he said dilly, “or write her a new one and call it +‘Words of Warning for Wifey.’” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll give her something together,” Hal exclaimed +triumphantly, knowing that, as usual, she had won the day. +</p> + +<p> +Then she went off to bed, feigning a light-heartedness she was far from +feeling, and dreading, with vague misgivings, what the future might bring +forth. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<p> +It was a little over two years later that the crash came. There was first a +commonplace, sordid tale of bickering and quarrelling, with passionate jealousy +on the part of the middle-aged husband, and callous, maddening indifference on +the part of the now successful and brilliant actress. +</p> + +<p> +To do Lorraine justice, she was not actively at fault. Her sense of fair play +made her try sincerely to make the best of what had all along been an +inevitable fiasco. She did not sin in deed against the man to whom she had sold +herself, but in thought it was hardly possible for her to give him anything but +tolerance, or to feel much beyond the callous indifference she purposely +cultivated, to make their life together endurable. The things that at first +only irritated her grew almost unbearable afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine’s father had been a gentleman by birth, breeding, and nature. If +she inherited from her mother an ambitious, calculating spirit, she also +inherited from her father refinement, and tone, and a certain fineness +character, that showed itself chiefly in unorthodox ways, for the simple reason +that her life and conditions were entirely removed from a conventional +atmosphere. +</p> + +<p> +As a man she might merely have lived a double life, conforming to the +conventions when advisable, and following her own ambitions and bent in secret, +without ever apparently stepping over the line. +</p> + +<p> +As a woman she could but cultivate callous indifference to a great deal, and +satisfy her soul by “playing fair” according to her lights, in the +path before her, but nothing could save her from a mental nausea of the things +in her husband which belonged to his plebeian origin and nature, and which +crossed with a shrivelling, searing touch her own inherent refinement and +high-born spirit. +</p> + +<p> +The objectionable friends he brought to the house she found it easier to bear +than the things he said about them behind their backs; neither, again, was his +addiction to drink so trying as his mental coarseness. A man who had drank too +much could be avoided, but the lowness of Frank Raynor’s mind seemed to +follow and drag hers down. +</p> + +<p> +Yet for two years she held bravely on, cultivating a hard spirit, and throwing +herself heart and soul into the first delicious joy of success. This last +surprised even her friends and admirers. A moderate hit was quite expected, but +not a triumph which placed her almost in the first rank, and was due not merely +to her acting, but to a bigness of spirit and comprehension she had never +before had an opporturnty to reveal. +</p> + +<p> +It was, indeed, the justification of Hal’s devotion. Hal, by her very +nature, could not love a small-minded woman. What she so unceasingly loved and +admired in Lorraine was a hidden something she alone had had the perspicacity +to perceive, and could so instinctively rely upon. It was the something which, +given once a fair opening, carried her quickly through the company of the +lesser successes, and placed her on that high plane which demands soul as well +as skill. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the dreadful climax. In a drunken, mad moment her husband hurled at +her that he had been her mother’s lover, and proposed to return to his +old allegiance—had, in fact, already done so. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine immediately packed up her own special belongings and left his roof for +ever. +</p> + +<p> +Expostulations, promises, threats, passionate assurances that he had not been +responsible for what he said failed alike to move her. She knew that whether +responsible or not he had spoken the truth, and that everything else either he +or her mother could say was false. +</p> + +<p> +Finding her obdurate, he swore to ruin them both; but she told him she would +sing for bread in the streets before she would go back to him; and he knew she +meant it. +</p> + +<p> +Fearing his influence against her and his sworn revenge, she went to Italy for +a year, and hid in quiet villages until his passion should somewhat have died, +finding herself in the dreadful position, not only of being betrayed by her +mother, but quite unable to obtain any sort of freedom without revealing the +black stain upon her only near relation. +</p> + +<p> +She could not seek a divorce under the terrible circumstances, and she was far +too proud and spirited to touch a farthing of her husband’s money. It was +like a dreadful chapter in her life, of which she could only turn down the +page; never, never, obliterate nor escape from. +</p> + +<p> +In the black days and weeks of despair which followed, she often felt she must +have lost her reason without Hal, and even to her she could not tell the actual +truth. Hal asked once, and then no more. Afterwards it was like a secret, +unnamed horror between them, from which the curtain must not be raised. +</p> + +<p> +For the rest there was the usual but intenser scene of remonstrance between +Dudley and Hal with the usual resentful and obdurate termination. This time +Dudley even got seriously angry, unable to see anything but a foolish, +unprincipled woman reaping a just reward of her own sowing; and for nearly a +week his displeasure was such that he addressed no single word to Hal if he +could help it. +</p> + +<p> +Hal, for once, was too wretched about everything to resent his attitude, and +merely waited for the sun to shine again and the black, enveloping clouds to +roll away. +</p> + +<p> +She saw Lorraine everyday, in the apartments whence she had fled, and helped +her to make the necessary arrangements to cancel the short remainder of an +engagement and get away. She even had one interview with the irate husband, but +no one ever knew what took place, except that Raynor sought no repetition, and +seemed afterwards to have a respectful awe of Hal’s name which spoke +volumes. +</p> + +<p> +Accustomed to intimidating women with a curse and an oath, he had found himself +unexpectedly dealing with two who could scorch him with a scorn and contempt +far more withering than a vulgar tirade of blasphemous language. +</p> + +<p> +Finally the break was made complete. Lorraine got safely away to Italy, her +mother retired to an English village, and Raynor departed to America for good. +</p> + +<p> +For him it was merely a case of fresh pastures for fresh money-making and fresh +intrigues. +</p> + +<p> +For Mrs. Vivian only a passing exile from the gaieties and extravagance she +loved. +</p> + +<p> +For Lorraine it meant a hideous memory, a hideous, overwhelming catastrophe, +and a hideous tie from which she could not hope to free herself. +</p> + +<p> +She went away in a state of nervous prostration that was an illness, feeling +the horror of it all in her very bones, and clinging with a silent hopelessness +to Hal in a way that was more heart-rending than any hysterical outburst. +</p> + +<p> +Yet that Hal was there was good indeed. Hal, who, though only twenty-one, could +look out on an ugly world with those clear eyes of hers, and while seeing the +ugliness undisguised, see always as it were beside it the ultimate good, the +ultimate hope, the silver lining behind the blackest cloud. Hal, who could +criticise unerringly, with direct, outspoken humour,and yet scorn to judge; who +had learnt, by some strange instinct, the precious art of holding out a +friendly hand and generous friendship, even to those condemned of the orthodox, +sufferers probably through their own wild and foolish actions, without in any +way becoming besmirched herself, or losing her own inherent freshness and +purity. +</p> + +<p> +It was not in the least surprising that a man as wedded to his books and +profession as Dudley should fail to realise what was, in a measure, phenomenal. +By the simple rule of A B C, he argued that ill necessarily contaminates, if +the one to come in contact is of young and impressionable years. There might of +course be exceptions, but hardly among those as frivolous and obstinate as Hal. +</p> + +<p> +He worried himself almost ill about it all, until Lorraine was safely out of +England, adding seriously to poor Hal’s troubled mind, seeing she must +stand by the one while longing to soothe and please the other, and fretting +silently over his anxious expression. But once back in their old groove, he +quickly recovered his spirits, and even tried to make up to Hal a little for +what she had lost. Unfortunately, however, he hit upon an unhappy expedient. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to persuade her to make a friend of a certain Doris Hayward, instead +of Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +Doris’s brother had been Dudley’s great friend in the days when +both were articled to the same profession, but a terrible accident had later +lain him on an invalid couch for the rest of his life. +</p> + +<p> +When clerk of the works of one of London’s great buildings, a heavy crane +had slipped and swung sideways, flinging him into the street below. He was +picked up and carried into the nearest hospital, apparently dead, but he had +presently come back, almost from the grave, to drag out a weary life as an +incurable on an invalid sofa. +</p> + +<p> +Soon afterwards his father died, leaving Basil and his two sisters the poor +pittance of £50 a year between them. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel, the elder, was already a Civil Service clerk at the General Post Office, +earning £110 a year, and on these two sums they had to subsist as best +they could. +</p> + +<p> +Basil earned occasional guineas for copying work, when he was well enough to +stand the strain, and Doris remained at home with him in the little Holloway +flat, as nurse and housekeeper. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley, with his usual lack of comprehension where women were concerned, +evolved what seemed to him an admirable plan, in which Hal and Doris became +great friends, thereby brightening poor Doris’s dull existence, and +weaning Hal from her allegiance to the unstatisfactory Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +His plans, however, quickly met with the discouragement and downfall inevitable +from the beginning. At first he tried strategy, and Hal, in a good-tempered, +careless way, merely listened, while easily avoiding any encounter. +</p> + +<p> +Then Dudley went a step too far. +</p> + +<p> +“I have to be out three evenings this week, so I asked Doris Hayward to +come and keep you company, as I thought you might be dull.” +</p> + +<p> +“You asked Doris to come and keep <i>me</i> company!” repeated Hal, +quite taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; why not? She is such a nice girl, and just your age. I can’t +think why you are not greater friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s pretty apparent,” with a little curl of her lips. +</p> + +<p> +“We haven’t anything in common: that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why haven’t you? You can’t possibly know if you never +meet. She seems such a far more sensible friend for you than Lorraine +Vivian,” with a shade of irritation. +</p> + +<p> +“Probably that is exactly why I don’t want her friendship,” +with a light laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“But you might try to be reasonable just once in a way. Try to be +friendly tomorrow evening.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal, with her quick, light gracefulness, crossed to him, and playfully gave him +a little shake. +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley, you dear old idiot. I don’t know about being reasonable, +but I can certainly be honest; and it’s honest I’m going to be now. +I think it is almost a slur on Lorraine to mention a little, silly, +dolly-faced, conceited creature like Doris in the same breath; and as for being +friendly to her tomorrow evening, that’s impossible, because I shall not +be here. I’m going to the Denisons, and I don’t intend to postpone +it. You will have to write and tell her I am engaged.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley’s mouth quickly assumed the rigidity which denoted he was greatly +displeased, and his voice was frigid as he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“You are very injust to Doris. You scarcely know her, and yet you condemn +her offhand: the fault you are always finding in me. As for any comparison +between her and Miss Vivian, it is very certain she would not sell herself to a +man, and then run away from him because things did not turn out as she wanted +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal turned away, with a slight shrug and a humorous expression as of +helplessness. +</p> + +<p> +“We won’t argue, <i>mon frère</i>, because, since you always read +books instead of people, you are not very well up in the subject. To put it +both candidly and vulgarly, I haven’t any use for Doris Hayward at all. +Ethel I admire tremendously, though I don’t think she likes me; and Basil +is a saint straight out of heaven, suffering martyrdom for no conceivable +reason, but Doris is like a useless ornamental china shepherdess, which ought +to be put on a high shelf where it can’t get itself nor any one else +into trouble. I’m really dreadfully afraid if I had to spend a whole +evening alone with her, I should drop her and break her to relieve my +feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you needn’t worry”—moving coldly away. “I +have far too much respect for Doris to allow her to come here just to be +criticised by you. I will explain that you are unexpectedly engaged,” and +he opened a paper in a manner to close the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +Hal made a little grimace at him behind it, and retired discreetly to prepare +for her daily sojourn in the City. +</p> + +<p> +It happened, however, when, a year later, Lorraine came back to take up her +theatrical career again in England, there was some vague change in her that +made Dudley less severe in his criticisms. Trouble had not hardened her, nor +softened her, but it had made her a little less sure of herself, and a little +more willing to please. +</p> + +<p> +Hitherto she had taken rather a pleasure in shocking Dudley, under the +impression that it would do him good and open his mind a little. Now she had a +greater respect for his sterling side, and could smile kindly at his little +foibles and fads. The result was that Dudley admitted, a trifle grudgingly, she +had changed for the better, and rather looked forward to the occasional +evenings she spent with Hal at their Bloomsbury apartments. +</p> + +<p> +He also had to admit that success had in no wise spoilt her, that it probably +never would. The year of absence, it was soon seen, had not injured her +reputation in the least. She came back to the stage renewed and invigorated, +and with still more of that depth of feeling and atmosphere of soul which had +so enriched her personations before. +</p> + +<p> +She became, very speedily, without any question, one of the leading actressess +of the day; and the veil of mystery that hung over the sudden termination of +her short married life, if anything, enhanced her charm to a mystery-loving +public. And all the time, as Dudley could not but see, she never changed to +Hal. +</p> + +<p> +From adulation and adoration, from triumphs that might easily turn any head she +always came quickly back to the little Bloomsbury sitting-room when she could, +to have one of their old gay gossips and merry laughs. She seemed in some way +to find a rest there that she could not get elsewhere, in the company of people +who expected her to live up to a recognised standard of individuality. +</p> + +<p> +And the change in Lorraine was a change for the better in Hal too, who began +now to tone down a little, and at the same time to strengthen and deepen in +character. +</p> + +<p> +They were, in fact, a pair it was good to see and good to know. In the first +few years after the break-up of her home Lorraine was at her handsomest. Her +dark, thick hair had a gloss on it that in some lights showed like a bronze +glow, and she wore it in thick coils round her small head, free from any +exaggerated fashion, and yet with a distinction all its own. Her dark eyes once +more showed the roguish lights of her schooldays, and her alluring red mouth +twitched mischievously when she was in a gay mood. +</p> + +<p> +A little below the medium height, she was so perfectly built as to escape any +appearance of shortness, and carried herself so well, she sometimes appeared +almost tall. +</p> + +<p> +Considering what her life had been, she looked strangely young for her years, +seeming to combine most alluringly the knowledge and sympathy of a woman of +thirty-five with the freshness and capacity for enjoyment of twenty-five. The +irrevocable tie so far had not clashed with any new affection; her husband +remained in America and made no sign; and her art was all-sufficing. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was built on quite different lines. Tall, and slender, and well knit, she +moved with the surging grace of the athlete, and looked out upon the world with +a joyfulness and humorous kindliness that won her friends everywhere. She was +not beautiful in any sense that could be compared with Lorraine, but she had +pretty brown hair, and fine eyes, and a clear, warm skin that made up for other +defects, and helped to produce a very attractive whole. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine had taught her how to dress—an art of far deeper significance +than many women trouble to realise; and wherever Hal went, if she did not +create a sensation, at least she carried a distinction and pleasingness that +were rarely overlooked. Her daily sojourn in the City, among the bread-winners, +had made her large-hearted and generously tolerant, without hurting in any +degree her own innate womanliness and charm. +</p> + +<p> +She showed in her every gesture and action how it was possible to be of those +who must scramble for buses, and press for trams, and live daily in the midst +of panting, struggling, working, grasping humans, without losing tone, or +gentleness, or a radiant, fearless spritit. +</p> + +<p> +At the office of the newspaper where she filled the post of secretary and +typist, she was a sort of cheerful institution to smooth worried faces and call +up a smile amidst the irritability and frowns. +</p> + +<p> +Blunderers went to her with their troubles, and felt fairly secure if she would +break the news of the blunder or mistake to the irritable and awe-inspiring +chief. He, in his turn, would be irritable before her, but never with her; and +it was a recognised fact among the staff that she was almost the only one who +could make him laugh. +</p> + +<p> +Thus a few intervening years passed happily enough, briging Lorraine to her +thirty-first birthday and Hal to her twenty-fifth, without any further +upheavals to strike a discordant note across the daily round, except such +inevitable trials as Lorraine continued to meet through her mother, and Hal +through her devotion to a non-comprehending brother. Only, while they had each +other and their work, such difficulties were not hard to cope with; and life +sang a gayer, happier song to them than she usually sings to the mere +pleasure-seekers. +</p> + +<p> +For work in a wide interesting sphere is a priceless boon, and the men who +would condemn women solely to pleasure-seeking and the four walls of their home +are showing the very acme of selfishness, in that they are endeavouring to keep +solely and entirely for themselves one of the best things life has to give. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<p> +It will be remembered, perhaps, that an occasion has already occured when Hal +had cause to congratulate herself upon the possession of a cousin, named Dick, +who acted as an antidote to a brother who sometimes resembled a great-aunt. +</p> + +<p> +Dick, or to give him his full name, Richard Alastair Bruce, was indeed her best +friend and boon companion next to Lorraine. He was her earliest playmate, and +likewise her latest. For many months together they had been companions in the +wildest of wild escapades as children, at Dick’s country home; and now +that they were both responsible members of the community, in the world’s +greatest city, they were equally attached. +</p> + +<p> +If Hal was down on her luck, she telephoned Dick to come instantly to the +rescue, and if it was humanly possible he came. If Dick wanted a sympathetic or +gay companion, either to go out with him or to listen to his latest +inspirations, he telephoned to Hal, and little short of an urgent, important +engagement would delay her. +</p> + +<p> +At the time he becomes of any importance in this narrative he was established +in a flat in the Cromwell Road, as one of a trio sometimes known as the Three +Graces. The other two were Harold St. Quintin and Alymer Hermon. +</p> + +<p> +The appellation was first given to them when they were freshmen at New College, +Oxford; partly because they were inseparable, partly because they were a +particularly good-looking trio, and partly because they all three came up from +Winchester with great cricket reputations. Within two years they were all +playing for the ‘Varsity’ and one of them was made captain. +</p> + +<p> +Three years from the term of their leaving, after each had gone his own way for +a season, they gravitated together again, and finally became established in the +Cromwell Road flat, once more on the old affectionate terms. +</p> + +<p> +Dick Bruce was following a literary career, of a somewhat ambiguous nature. He +wrote weird articles for weird papers, under weird pseudonyms, verses, under a +woman’s name, for women’s papers, usually of the <i>Home +Dressmaker</i> type; occasional lines to advertise some patent medicine or +soap; one or two Salvation Army hymns of a particularly rousing nature: and +sometimes a weighty, brilliant article for a first-class paper, duly signed in +his own name. +</p> + +<p> +Besides all this he visited a publisher’s office most days, where he was +supposed to be meditating the acquirement of a partnership. Hal was very apt at +terse, concise definitions, and she was quite up to her best form when she +described him as “the maddest of a mad clan run amok.” +</p> + +<p> +Harold St. Quintin, or Quin, as every one called him, was idealist, +etherealist, and dreamer. His original intention had been to enter the Church, +but having gone down into East London to give six months to slum work, he had +remained two years without showing any inclination to give it up. Sometimes he +lived at the flat, and sometimes he was lost for a week at a time somewhere +east of St. Paul’s, where one might as well have looked for him as for +the proverbial needle in a haystack. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon, after a sojourn on the continent to study languages, was now +established with a barrister, waiting, it must be confessed, without much +concern, for his first brief. +</p> + +<p> +Of the three he was the most striking. Dick Bruce was only ordinarily +good-looking, with a very white skin, a fine forehead, and an arresting pair of +eyes—eyes that were like an index to a brain that held volumes of +original observations and whimsicalities, and revealed only just as much or +little as the author chose. +</p> + +<p> +Harold St. Quintin was small and rather delicate, with never-failing +cheerfulness on his lips, and eyes that seemed always to have behind them the +recollection of the pitiful scenes among which he voluntarily moved. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon was Adonis returned to earth. He stood six foot five and a half +inches in his socks, and was as perfectly proportioned as a man may be; with a +head and face any sculptor might have been proud to copy line by line for a +statue of masculine beauty. +</p> + +<p> +When he was captain of the Oxford Eleven, people spoke of his beauty more than +his cricket, although the latter was quite sufficiently striking in itself. +There were others who had sweepstakes on his height, before the score he would +make, or the men he would bowl. +</p> + +<p> +The ‘Varsity’ was proud of him, as they had never been proud of a +captain before, because he upheld every tradition of manliness and manhood at +its best. And they only liked him the better that so far his attitude to his +own comeliness was rather that of boredom than anything else. Certainly it +weighed as nothing in the balance against the joy of scoring a century and +achieving a good average with his bowling. +</p> + +<p> +He was equally bored with the young girls who gazed at him in adoration, and +the women who petted him, and it was a considerable source of worry to him that +he might appear effeminate, because of his blue eyes and golden hair, and +fresh, clear complexion, when in reality he was as manly as the plainest of +hard-sinewed warriors, though the indulgence of a slightly aesthetic manner and +way of speech, learnt at the University, increased rather than counteracted the +suggestion of effeminacy. +</p> + +<p> +But, taking all things into consideration, he was singularly unspoilt and +unassuming; and sometimes blended with an old-fashioned, paternal air a +boyishness and power of enjoyment that could not fail to charm. +</p> + +<p> +The first time that Lorraine met the trio was when Hal took her to spend the +evening at the flat one Sunday, by arrangement with her cousin. She herself +knew all three well, having been to the flat many times, but it had taken some +little persuasion to get Lorraine to go with her. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course they are just boys,” said grandiloquent twenty-five, +“but they are quite amusing, and they will be proud of it all their lives +if they can say they once had Lorraine Vivian at the flat as a guest.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you call boys?” asked Lorraine, looking amused; “I +thought you said they had all left college,” +</p> + +<p> +“So they have, but that’s nothing. Dick is only twenty-five, and +the others are about twenty-four.” +</p> + +<p> +“A much more irritating age than mere boyhood as a rule.” +</p> + +<p> +“Decidedly; but they really are a little exceptional. Dick, of course, is +quite mad—that’s what makes him interesting. Alymer Hermon is a +giant with a great cricket reputation, and Harold St. Quintin is a sort of +modern Francis Assisi with a sense of humour.” +</p> + +<p> +“The giant sounds the dullest. I hope he doesn’t want to talk +cricket all the time, because I don’t know anything about it, except that +if a man stands before the wicket he is out, and if he stands behind it he is +not in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no; he doesn’t talk cricket. He mostly talks drivel with Dick, +and St. Quintin laughs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dick sounds quite the best, in spite of his madness. A cricketer who +talks drivel, and a future clergyman working in the East End, don’t +suggest anything that appeals to me in the least.” +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, when Lorraine, looking very lovely, entered the small +sitting-room of her three hosts, her second glance, in spite of herself, +strayed back to the young giant on the hearth-rug. He was looking at Hal +sideways, with a quizzical air; and she heard him say: +</p> + +<p> +“It may be new, but it’s not the very latest fashion, because it +doesn’t stick out far enough at the back, and it doesn’t cover up +enough of your face.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh well!” said Hal jauntily, “if I had as much time as you +to study the fashions, I daresay I should know as much about them. But I have +to <i>work</i> for my living,” with satirical emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +“What a nuisance for you,” with a delightful smile. “I only +pretend to work for mine.” +</p> + +<p> +“We all know that. You sit on a stool, and look nice, and wait for a +brief to come along and beg to be taken up.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a chair. I’m not one of the clerks. And I +shouldn’t get a brief any quicker if I went and shouted on the housetops +that I wanted one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Besides, you don’t want one. You know you wouldn’t know what +to do with it if you got it. Well, how’s East London?…” and Hall +crossed to the slum-worker, with a show of interest she evidently did not feel +for the embryo barrister. Lorraine smiled at him, however, and he moved +leisurely forward to take the vacant seat beside her on the sofa. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Hal trying to sharpen her wit at your expense?” she asked him, +in a friendly, natural way. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but it’s a very blunt weapon at the best. People who always +think they are the only ones to work are very tiring; don’t you think +so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Decidedly; and I don’t suppose she does half s much as you and I +in reality.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh well, I could hardly belie myself so far as to assert that. You see, +it takes a long time to make people understand what a good barrister you would +be if you got the chance to prove it.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal could not resist a timely shot. +</p> + +<p> +“Personally, I shoud advise you to try and prove it without the chance. +The chance might undo the proving, you see.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a rotten, mixed-up, meaningless remark!” he retorted. +“Is it because you find I am so dull, you still have to talk to +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quin is never dull, he is only depressing. Dick, do hurry up and begin +supper. I always feel horribly hungry here, because I know Quin has just come +away from some starving family or other, and I have to try and eat to +forget.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine leant across to the dreamy-eyed first-class circketer, voluntarily +giving his life to the slums. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you do it?” she asked with sudden interest. “It +seems, somehow, unnatural in a—” she hesitated, then finished a +little lamely, “a man like you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, not at all,” he hastened to assure her. “It’s +the most fascinating work in the world. It’s full of novelty and +surprises for one thing.” +</p> + +<p> +She shuddered a little. +</p> + +<p> +“But the misery and want and starvation. The … the… utter hopelessness of +it all.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it isn’t hopeless at all. Nothing is hopeless. And then, +knowing the misery is there, and doing nothing, is far worse than seeing it and +doing what one can.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, because one can forget so often.” +</p> + +<p> +“Some can. I can’t. Therefore I can only choose to go and wrestle +with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is heroic of you, but still!—” +</p> + +<p> +Harold St. Quintin gave a gay laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“It is not a bit more heroic than your work on the stage to give people +pleasure. I get as much satisfaction in return as you do; and that is the main +point. Slum humanity is seething with interest, and it is by no means all sad, +nor all discouraging. There is probably more humour and heroism there per +square mile than anywhere else.” +</p> + +<p> +“And no doubt more animal life also,” put in Dick Bruce. +“It’s the superfluous things that put me off, not the want of +anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s feeling such an ass puts me off,” added Hermon; +“they’re all so busy and alert about one thing or another down +there, they make me feel a mere cumberer of the earth. A woman manages a +husband, and a family, and some sort of a home, and does the breadwinning as +well. The children try to earn pennies in their playtime; and the men work at +trying to get work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whereas you?…” suggested Hal with a twinkle, “work at +trying not to get work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to supper, and don’t be so personal, Hal,” said her +cousin. “I wrote a poem on you last week, and called it ‘Why Men +Die Young.’ It is in a rag called <i>The Woman’s Own Newspaper</i>. +It is also in <i>The Youth’s Journal</i>, with the pronouns altered, and +a different title; but I forget what.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a waste of time—writing such drivel,” Hal flung at him. +“Why don’t you compose a masterpiece, and scale Olympus?” +</p> + +<p> +“Too commonplace. Lots of men have done that. Very few are positive +geniuses at writing drivel. I claim to be in the front rank.” +</p> + +<p> +They sat down to a lively repast, and Lorraine found herself, instead of an +awe-inspiring, distinguished guest, treated with a frank camaraderie that was +both amusing and refreshing. They all made a butt of Hal, who was quite equal +to the three of them; and when the giant paraphrased one of her +(Lorraine’s) most tragic utterances on the stage into a serio-comic +dissertation on a fruit salad they were eating, lacking in wine, she laughed as +gaily as any, and felt she had known them for years. +</p> + +<p> +Then Hal insisted upon playing a game she had that moment invented, which +consisted of each one confessing his or her greatest failing, and the gaiety +grew. +</p> + +<p> +She led off by informing them that she found she always jumped eagerly at any +excuse to avoid her morning bath. Dick Bruce followed it up with a confession +that he found he was never satisfied with fewer than four “best +girls”, because he liked to compare notes between them, and write silly +verses on his observations; while Harold St. Quintin owned to an objectionable +fancy for bull’s-eye peppermints and blowing eggs. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon confessed that he loved giving advice to people years older than +himself, concerning things he knew nothing whatever about. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine tried to cry off, but, hard pressed, she admitted that she liked the +excitement of spending money she had not got, and then having to pawn something +to satisfy her creditors. “Spending money you will not miss,” she +finished, “is very dull beside spending money you do not possess.” +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon then suggested they should tell each other of besetting faults, +and at once informed Hal her colossal opinion of herself and all she did was +only equalled by its entire lack of foundation. +</p> + +<p> +Hal hurled back at him that every inch in height after six feet absorbed +vitality from the brain, and that, though his dense stupidity was most trying, +the reason for it claimed their compassion. +</p> + +<p> +“You pride yourself beyond all reason on your stature,” she said, +“and are too dense to perceive it is your undoing.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine leant towards him and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Inches give magnanimity: big men are always big-hearted; you can afford +to forgive her, and retaliate that too much brain-power sinks individuality +into mere machinery. I should say Hal’s besetting fault was rapping every +one on the knuckles, as if they were the keys of a typewriting machine.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yours, my dear Lorraine, is smiling into every one’s eyes, as +if the world held no others for you. Were I a man, and you smiled at me so, I +would strangle you before you had time to repeat the glance on some one +else.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Dick’s besetting sin,” murmured St. Quintin plaintively, +“is a persistent fancy for other people’s ties and other +people’s boots. I have cause to bless the benign and other people’s +boots. I have cause to bless the benign providence who fashioned my shoulders +sufficiently smaller than his to prevent his wearing my coats.” +</p> + +<p> +“And yours, Quin,” broke in Hermon, “is a fond and loathsome +affection for pipes so seasoned that the Board of Trade ought to prohibit their +use.” +</p> + +<p> +“After all,” Hal rapped out at him, “that’s not so bad +as love of a looking-glass.” +</p> + +<p> +“And love of a looking-glass is no worse than love of throwing stones +from glass houses,” he retorted. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it isn’t, Hal,” broke in her cousin, “and +probably if you had anything nice to look at in your glass—” +</p> + +<p> +Hal stood up. +</p> + +<p> +“The meeting is adjourned,” she announced solemnly, “and the +honourable member who was just spoken has the president’s leave to absent +himself on the occasion of the next gathering.” +</p> + +<p> +“Excellent,” cried Quin, while Hermon in great glee rapped the +table with his knife handle and exclaimed, “Capital, Dick!... That drew +her... I think you might say it took the middle stump.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, thank goodness he’s got on to cricket,” breathed Hal. +“He does know a little about that, and may possibly talk sense for ten +minutes. Come along, Lorraine, and don’t address Baby at present, for +fear you distract him from his game and start him off struggling to be clever +again. As it is Sunday night, perhaps Dick would like to read us his latest +effusions in the way of boisterous hymns!” +</p> + +<p> +She led the way back to the bachelor sitting-room, and for some little time +Dick amused them greatly with his experiences over editors and magazines, and +then the two went off together to Lorraine’s flat. +</p> + +<p> +At this time she was living at the bottom of Lower Sloane Street, with windows +looking over the river, and it was generally supposed that her mother lived +with her. +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact, Mrs. Vivian only occupied the ground floor flat in company +with a friend. Lorraine give her an income on condition she should live there, +and so, in a sense, act as a sort of chaperone to silence the tongues ever +ready to find food for scandal in the fact of brilliance and beauty living +alone; but mother and daughter had never again been on terms of cordiality. +</p> + +<p> +So Hal was often Lorraine’s companion for several nights, coming and +going as she fancied, always sure of a welcome. To her the flat was a constant +delight, and in the evening she loved to sit on the verandah and watch the +gliding river—not to sentimentalise and dream, but because she loved +London with all her heart and soul and strength, and to her the river was as +the city’s pulsing heart. +</p> + +<p> +The moist freshness of the air coming across from Battersea Park was only the +more refreshing after Bloomsbury, and the vicinity of several well-known names +in the world of art and letters appealed porwerfully to her imagination. +Lorraine usually sat just inside the long French window, taking care of her +voice, and listening contentedly to Hal’s chatter. +</p> + +<p> +They sat thus for a little while after their return from Cromwell Road, and it +was noticeable that Lorraine was even more silent than usual. Hal told her +something about each of their three hosts in turn, while showing an +unmistakable preference for the slum-worker and her cousin. At last Lorraine +interrupted her. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say so little about Mr. Hermon?... you merely told me he was +a cricketer, which doesn’t, as a matter of fact, describe him at +all.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal shrugged her shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose he doesn’t interest me except in that way.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it is a mere side issue. If he weren’t a cricketer he would be +just as remarkable.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he isn’t remarkable. He’s only exceptionally big.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s one of the most remarkable men I’ve ever seen, +anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nonsense, Lorraine. Besides, he is hardly a man yet. He’s only +twenty-four.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help that,” with a little laugh. “I’ve +seen a great many men in my life, but I’ve never seen any one before like +Alymer Hermon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why in the world not? What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, to begin with, he’s the most perfect specimen of manhood +I’ve ever beheld. He’s abnormally big without the slightest +suggestion of being either too big or awkward. He’s simply magnificent. +Most men of that size are just leggy and gawky: he is neither. Again, other men +built as he, are usually rather brainless and weak, or probably made so much of +by women that they become wrapped up in themselves, and are always expecting +admiration. Alymer Hermon has the freshness of a delightful boy, with the fine +face and courtly manners of a charming man. If you can’t see this, +it’s because you don’t know men as well as I do.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal stepped over the window sill into the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh!” she said impatiently. “What in the world has happened +to you? He’s just a stuffed blue-and-gold Apollo.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine got up also. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s more than that. Some day you will see; unless... +unless....” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, unless what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing, only a man like that can’t expect to escape being +spoilt. A certain type of woman will inevitably mark him down for her prey, and +ruin all his freshness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you had better take him under your wing,” Hal laughed. +“It would be a pity for such a paragon to be lost to society. Personally, +stuffed blue-and-gold Apollos don’t interest me in the least. Come along +to bed. I’m dead tired,” and she dragged Lorraine away. +</p> + +<p> +But instead of sleeping, the actress lay silently watching a star that shone in +at her window, and thinking a little sadly about the man nature had chosen to +endow so bountifully. In a few weeks she would be thirty-two and he was +twenty-four. +</p> + +<p> +Supposing it had been twenty-two instead of thirty-two, and out of his +splendour he had given his heart to her dark beauty, what a tale it might have +been—what a fairy-tale of sweet, impossible things, with a golden-haired +prince and a dark-eyed princess. +</p> + +<p> +She awoke from her day-dream with a touch of impatience, apostrophising herself +for her folly. After all, what had a beautiful, successful woman at her prime +to do with a youth of twenty-four, who played foolish games at a supper-table, +and was only just beginning to know his world? Of course he would bore her +intolerably at a second interview, and, closing her eyes resolutely, she drove +his image from her mind. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<p> +The second interview, however, by a mere coincidence, took place at +Lorraine’s flat. She was walking leisurely down Sloane Street one +afternoon, after visiting her milliner’s, when she ran into the young +giant going in the opposite direction. +</p> + +<p> +“How so?...” she asked gaily, as is face lit up with a pleased +smile, and he stopped in front of her. “Whither away at this hour? Are +you chasing a brief?” +</p> + +<p> +“Much too brief,” he told her. “I had to carry some important +papers to a certain well-known Cabinet Minister; and he did not even vouchsafe +me a glance of his countenance. I was given an acknowledgment of them by the +footman, as if I had been a messenger boy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too bad. I think you deserve that another celebrity should give you a +cup of tea, to redeem your opinion of the immortals. My flat is quite near, and +I am now returning. Will you come?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, won’t I?” he said boyishly, and turned back. +</p> + +<p> +It was the fashionable hour in Sloane Street, when many well-dressed, +well-known people are often seen walking, and when the road is full of private +motors and carriages. Lorraine found herself moving still more slowly. She was +accustomed to being gazed at herself, had in fact grown a little blasé of it, +but the frank admiration bestowed on her giant amused and pleased her. +</p> + +<p> +Covertly she watched, as she chatted up to him, for the tell-tale consciousness +and perhaps heightened colour. But when he was looking back into her face he +looked straight before him, over the heads of the admiring eyes, and paid no +smallest heed to them. Neither was he in the least self-conscious with her. She +wondered if he even realised that the tête-à-tête he accepted so simply would +have been a joy of heaven to many. Anyhow, far from resenting his seeming want +of due appreciation, she found it made him more interesting. +</p> + +<p> +She spoke of Hal, and he immediately exclaimed: “Hal is a ripper, +isn’t she? I can’t help teasing her, you know; it’s the best +fun in the world.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you usually tease your feminine friends?” she asked. +“I’ve no doubt you have a great many.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, I haven’t. Men pals are far jollier.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, I expect your inches bring you many fair admirers.” +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his shoulders slightly, and looked a trifle bored, and she divined +that he disliked flattery and probably the subject of his appearance. She +adroitly turned the conversation back to Hal, and spoke of her until they +reached the block of flats. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this where you live? What a ripping situation!” he exclaimed. +“I would sooner be near the river than near Knightsbridge, even if it is +not so classy.” +</p> + +<p> +He followed her into the lift, and then into her charming home, full of +enthusiasm, and still without exhibiting a shade of self-consciousness. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine found her interest growing momentarily, as he took up his stand on her +hearth and gazed frankly around, with undisguised pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“What a jolly nice room. It’s one of the prettiest I’ve seen. +You have the same color-scheme as the Duchess of Medstone in her boudoir, but I +like your furniture better.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine glanced up a little surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know the Duchess of Medstone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, yes”—a trifle bashfully. “You see, those sort of +people ask me to their houses because of my cricket. Private cricket weeks are +rather fashionable, and I get invitations as the late Oxford captain.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you go to people you don’t know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, rather, if I can raise the funds. The nuisance is the tipping. +There’s always such a rotten lot of servants; and I’m too much +afraid of them to give anything but gold.” +</p> + +<p> +The tea came in, and she saw him glance round for the chair best suited to his +bulk. +</p> + +<p> +“My chairs were not designed for giants,” she told him laughingly; +“you will have to come and sit on the settee.” +</p> + +<p> +He came at once, stretching his long legs out before him, with lazy ease, and +then drawing his knees up sharply, as if in sudden remembrance that he was a +guest and they were comparative strangers. Lorraine liked him, both for the +moment’s forgetfulness and the sudden remembrance, and as she glanced +again at his beautiful head and splendid shoulders, she was conscious of a +sudden thrill of appreciative admiration. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was right in naming him Apollo. The Sun God might have been fashioned just +so, when first he ravished the eyes of Venus. +</p> + +<p> +“And so the duchess took you into her boudoir?” she asked, with an +unaccountable twinge of jealousy. “I do not know her. I’m afraid my +friends are not so aristocratic as yours. But I believe she is considered very +handsome.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hard,” he said, with an old-fashioned air. “Handsome enough, +but very hard. I did not like her nearly so much as Lady Moir, her +sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still no doubt she was very nice to you?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine rather hated herself for the question. The ways of aristocratic +ladies, whose idle hours often supply a field of labour for the Evil One, were +perfectly well known to her; and she wondered a little sharply how far he was +still unspoilt. The majority of big, strong, full-blooded young men in his +place would assuredly have sipped the cup of pleasure pretty deeply by now, +even at his years, but with that fine, strong face, and the clear, frank eyes +was he of these? She believed not, and was glad. +</p> + +<p> +He did not treat her question as if it implied any special favours, and merely +replied jocularly: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I suppose, since her blood is very blue and mine merely tinged, +she was rather gracious, but of course the really ‘blue’ people +generally are.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me who you happen to be?” Lorraine leant back against her +cushions, with her slow, easy grace, asking the question with a lightness that +robbed it of all pointedness or snobbery. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed amused, for he smiled as he answered frankly: +</p> + +<p> +“I happen to be Alymer Hadstock Hermon, one fo <i>the</i> Hermons all +right, but not the drawing-room end, so to speak; at the same time tinged with +her family shadiness—‘blue’ of course I mean—though no +doubt it applies in other ways as well. Does that satisfy your curiosity, or do +you want to know more?” +</p> + +<p> +She loved looking at him, particularly with that humorous little smile on his +lips, so she said: +</p> + +<p> +“Not half. I want to know all the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. It’s quite an open book. I was born twenty-four years +ago. I am an only child, and, as usual, the apple of my mother’s eye and +the terror of my father’s pocket. He, my father, is not much else just +now except a recluse. He was recently a member of parliament, a Liberal member, +and, God knows, that’s little enough. I believe he even climbed in by a +Chinese pigtail. +</p> + +<p> +“My grandfather was a Judge in the Divorce Court, which doesn’t +somehow sound quite respectable, and my great-grandfather was a writer of law +books, for which, personally, I think he ought to have been hanged. I +can’t go any farther back; at any rate I don’t want to, because +I’m certain it’s all so correct and dull there isn’t even a +family skeleton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it the women or the men of the family that are beautiful?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, both,” with humorous eagerness. “Skeletons and ghosts we +sought, and clamoured for, but ugliness, never.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s a pity you were not a woman. Looks are wasted in a man. +Give a man a ready tongue and a taking manner, and he can usually get what he +wants, if he’s as ugly as a frog. With you, on the other hand, things +will come too easily. You will miss all the fun of the chase. On my soul +I’m sorry for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“The briefs don’t come anyway, nor the ‘oof’: +that’s all I can see to be sorry for.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t want them badly enough, that’s all. If you want +the one, you’ll make love to an influential woman who can get them, and +if you want the other, you’ll marry an heiress.” +</p> + +<p> +“I say, you’re giving me rather a rotten character, aren’t +you?” +</p> + +<p> +He faced her suddenly, and a new expression dawned in his eyes, as if he were +only just awakening to the fact that she was beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you really think I’m such a rotter as all that?” +</p> + +<p> +She glanced away, lowering her eyelids, so that her long lashes swept the warm +olive cheeks, and with a little callous shrug answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Why should you be a rotter for doing what all the rest of the world +does? Four-fifths of mankind would give anything for your chances.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you just said you were sorry for me?” +</p> + +<p> +“So I am. So I should be for the four-fifths of mankind, if they got all +they wanted just for the asking.” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled with a sudden, charming whimsicality. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t feel much in need of sympathy, you know. It’s a +ripping old world, as long as you can indulge a few mild fancies, and be left +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mild fancies!” +</p> + +<p> +She turned on him suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you to do with mild fancies? Why, you can have the world at +your feet with a little exertion. Haven’t you any ambition? Don’t +you even want to plead in the greatest law court in the world as one of the +first barristers in Europe?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not particularly. Why should I? It would be no end of a fag. I’d +far rather be left alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“You… you… sluggard,” breaking into a laugh. “If I were Fate, +I’d just take you by the shoulders and shake you till you woke up. Then +I’d go on shaking to keep you awake. You shouldn’t be wasted on +mere nonentity if I held the threads.” +</p> + +<p> +But his blue eyes only smiled whimsically back at her. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m jolly glad you haven’t a say in the matter. Why, I +should have to give up cricket, and take to working! You’re as bad as +Quin with his slumming, and Dick with his rotten verses.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know yet that I haven’t a say in the +matter,” she remarked daringly. “Have a cigarette. I’m +awfully sorry I didn’t remember sooner.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, you ought to be,” was the gay rejoinder. “I’ve +been just dying for the moment when you would remember.” +</p> + +<p> +An electric bell rang out as they were lighting their cigarettes, and a moment +later Hal danced into the room with shining eyes and glowing cheeks. A few +paces from the door she stopped suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo, Baby,” she said, addressing Hermon, “where have you +sprung from?” +</p> + +<p> +“I found it wandering alone in Sloane Street,” Lorraine remarked, +“and now we’ve been teaing together.” +</p> + +<p> +Alymer did not look any too pleased at Hal’s frank appellation, but +former remonstrance had only been met with derision, and he knew he had no +choice but to submit with a good grace. +</p> + +<p> +“I might ask the same question, Lady-Clerk,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t call me a lady-clerk—I hate the term. I’m a +typist, secretary, bachelor-girl, city-worker, anything you like, not a +lady-clerk—bah!…” +</p> + +<p> +“Then don’t call me Baby.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s face broke into the most attractive of smiles. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help it. Everything about you, your size, your face, your +ways just clamour to be called ‘Baby’. Of course if you’d +rather be Apollo—” +</p> + +<p> +“Good Lord, no: is that the only alternative?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid so; you needn’t go if you don’t want +to,” as he prepared to depart. “We are not going to talk grown-up +secrets.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I were Mr. Hermon, I’d give you one good shaking, Hal,” +put Lorraine. “I’m sure you deserve it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit. Nothing could do him more good than regular interviews with +me, to undo all the harm he has received in between from silly, idiotic women, +who make him think he is something out of the ordinary. Isn’t that so, +Baby? Aren’t you labouring under the delusion that you’re a +remarkable fine specimen of humanity? And all the time, Heaven knows, +you’ve about as much honest purpose and brains as a big over-grown +school-boy.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you are not intending to imply he is more richly endowed with +dishonest purpose?” said Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I wouldn’t mind that,” Hal declared, “so long as +it was energy and purpose of some kind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Even to giving you that good shaking,” he asked, coming forward a +step menacingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Not in here,” in alarm; “you and I scrapping in +Lorraine’s drawing-room would cost a hundred pounds or so in valuables. +I’ll cry ‘pax’,” as he still advanced. “Of course +you are rather a fine boy really, I was only pulling your leg.” +</p> + +<p> +Hermon subsided with a laugh, and Hal proceeded to explain that she had come on +business, having been asked by the editor of one of their small magazines to +write up an interview with the actress for him. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall say I found you having a cosy tête-à-tête with a young barrister +of many inches and little brains,” she laughed. “Come, Lorraine, +spout away. What is your favourite <i>hors d’œuvre?</i> Did you feel like +a boiled owl at your first appearance? And which horse do you back for next +year’s Derby?” +</p> + +<p> +She started scribbling, to the amusement of the other two, carrying on a +desultory conversation meanwhile. +</p> + +<p> +“This isn’t anything to do with my department, but I like Mr. +Hadley, and he was keen about it, and offered me three guineas, so I said +I’do do it… Are your eyes yellow or green? For the life of me, I +don’t know. Which would you rather I called them? … I’ve got to go +to Marlboro’ House tomorrow to get up a short and vivid account of a +garden party, because Miss Alton, who generally does it, is down with +‘flu’. Were you a prodigal as a kid? no; I mean a prodigy… Fancy me +at Marlboro’ House! Awful thought, isn’t it? How they dare? +</p> + +<p> +“What is your favourite pastime? Shall I put down shooting? I know you +don’t know one end of a gun from the other, but it doesn’t matter; +and it reads rather well—something unique about it in an actress.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not put angling, and give some of my dear enemies a chance to ask +what for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Or jam-making,” suggested Alymer, “and redeem the stage in +the eyes of the British matron.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t talk… how can I write? Shall I bring myself in, and dig +up the dear old chestnut of David and Jonathan?… or shall I describe +Dudley’s disapproval melting into undisguised worship,” she rippled +with laughter as she scribbled on. “Oh dear, think if Dudley were to find +it, and read it, because he hasn’t even discovered yet that he has ceased +to disapprove. +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s your favourite poet? I might say Dick Bruce; he would write +a book of poems at once. And Quin might be your hero in real life. Do you know +where you were born? Up in the Himalayas sounds nice and airy, and it might as +well have been there as anywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you want anymore you must get it while I eat my dinner,” said +Lorraine, rising. “I have to try and be at the theatre at seven just now. +You may as well both dine with me, and you can come to my dressing-room +afterwards if you like, Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thank you”; and Hal pulled a wry face. “I’ve seen +quite enough of the wings, and the green-room, and all the rest of it. You +might take Baby, just to show him the real thing, and put him off it once for +all.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned to Hermon. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever been behind the scenes? I used to go sometimes, just for +the fun of it, while it was a novelty; but it quite cured me of any possible +taste of the stage. Most of the performers were so nervous they could hardly +speak, their teeth just chattered with cold and fright mingled, and the gloom +of it was like a vault. And then all the gaping, staring faces in rows, looking +out of the darkness. You can’t think how idiotic people look seen like +that. It always suggested to me that both stage and stalls were like children +playing at being lunatics.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s only your dreadfully prosaic, unromantic mind, Hal. You +just like to write newspaper articles, and type letters, and smother your +imagination under dry-and-dust facts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Smother my imagination,” echoed Hal, with a laugh. “Why, it +would take the imaginations of fifty ordinary people to concoct some of the +paragraphs we fix up during the week. My imagination is a positive goldmine at +the office, at least it would be if they dare print all that I suggest.” +</p> + +<p> +“You should run a paper yourself,” suggested Hermon; “a few +libel actions would made it pay like anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you haven’t seen Dudley,” with a little grimace. +“Dudley would have a fit and die before the first action had had time to +reach its interesting stage. I’d take you home to see him now, but he +happens to have gone up to Holloway to dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m dining out myself, so I must fly.” He turned to +Lorraine, with a gay smile. “I say, may I come and dine with you some +other time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Come to the Carlton on Sunday, will you?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine hardly knew why she made the sudden decision; she only knew perfectly +well she would have to break another engagement to keep it, and that she was +foolishly glad when he accepted. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right; you needn’t ask me,” volunteered Hal, +as her friend glanced at her. “I’m going motoring with Dick, and I +shall insist upon staying out until ten or eleven. I always try and fill my +Sundays full of fresh air. “Where are you going tonight, Baby?” she +added, with a charmingly impudent smile. +</p> + +<p> +“The Albert Hall, with Lady Selon”; and a twinkle shone in his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Goodness gracious! What in the world are you going to the Albert Hall +for? and who is Lady Selon?” +</p> + +<p> +“She is Soccer Selon’s sister-in-law, and she asked me to take her +to a concert. Is there anything else you would like to know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Her age?” archly. +</p> + +<p> +“Somewhere about thirty-five, I should imagine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! your grandmother, or thereabouts. Well, skip along. Tell Dick to +call for me early on Sunday.” +</p> + +<p> +When he had said good-bye to Lorraine and departed, Hal held up her hand, +hanging in a limp fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you’d teach him to shake hands, Lorry. It feels like +shaking a blind cord and tassel. Are you going to mother him? What an odd idea +for you to bother with a boy! You surely don’t mean to tell me he +interests you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I like to look at him. He’s such a splendid young animal. I +feel—oh, I don’t know what I feel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lots of London policemen are splendid young animals, but you don’t +want tête-à-tête teas with them if they are.” +</p> + +<p> +“You absurd child! Is there any reason why I shouldn’t have tea +with Mr. Hermon, if it amuses me?” +</p> + +<p> +“None specially; but if it’s just a splendid young animal to look +at, you want, I daresay it would be safer to import a polar bear from the +Zoo.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine felt a spot of colour burn in her cheeks, but she only laughed the +subject aside, and alluded to it no more before they parted at the theatre +door. +</p> + +<p> +Only at a late supper-party that night she was quieter than was her wont; and, +contrary to her habit, one of the first to leave. A well-known rising +politician, who had been paying her much attention of late, prepared, as usual, +to escort her home. She wished he would have stayed behind, but had no +sufficient reason for refusing his company. He taxed her with silence as they +spun westwards, and she pleaded a headache, wondering a little why all he said, +and looked, and did, somehow seemed banal and irritating tonight. +</p> + +<p> +He was so sure of himself, so fashionably blasé, so carelessly clever, so +daringly frank, with all the finished air of the modern smart man, basking +callously in the assured fact of his own brilliance and superiority. She knew +that most women would envy her the attentions of such a one, and that his +interest was undoubtedly a great compliment, as such compliments go; but +tonight she found herself remembering all the other women who had reigned +before her, all those who would presently succeed her, and she was conscious of +an impatient disgust of all the shallowness and insincerety of the fashionable, +successful man. +</p> + +<p> +“May I come in?” he asked, when they reached the flat, looking +rather as if he were conferring a favour than soliciting one. +</p> + +<p> +“No; it is too late. Good-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too late!…” he laughed a little, and Lorraine felt her temper +rising. “It is not exceptionally late, a little earlier than usual in +fact. Why mayn’t I come in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I don’t want you,” she said coldly, and she saw him +bite his lip in swift vexation. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall certainly not press you,” he retorted, and turned away. +</p> + +<p> +At the window of her drawing-room Lorraine lingered a few moments, gazin with a +half-longing expression at the gleam of the lights on the dark flowing river. +What was it that gave her that strange sense of heartache tonight? Why had her +usual companions bored and irritated her? Why did Alymer Hermon’s fine, +boyish, refreshing face come so often to her mind? +</p> + +<p> +She was certainly not in love with him. The mere idea was ridiculous, but it +was equally certain that something about him had given rise to this vague +unrest and longing. Was it perhaps that he called to her mind the youth she had +never known, the young splendid, whole-hearted years, when it was so easy to +believe and hope and enjoy that which life had never given her time for? +</p> + +<p> +True, the world was at her feet now, just as much as it would ever be at his, +but with what a difference? For her, with the work and stain of the knowledge +of much evil, and little good. For him, at present, with all the glorious +freshness of the morning. +</p> + +<p> +She glanced back into the dim room, and among the shadows she saw him standing +there again, towering up upon her hearthrug, before her hearth, with that +youthful, frank assurance that was so attractive. Of a truth he was unspoilt +yet, unspoilt and splendid as the dawn of the morning—but for how long? +</p> + +<p> +What would they make of him presently, the women of the world, who must needs +worship such a man, and strew their charms before him. How was he to keep his +freshness, when temptation hemmed him in on every side? +</p> + +<p> +She felt a sudden yearning as of hungry mother-love towards him. If he had been +her son, her very own son, how she would have fought the whole world to help +him keep his armour bright, and his colours flying high. +</p> + +<p> +And instead?... +</p> + +<p> +The wave of hungry mother-love was followed by one as of swift and angry +protest. Who had ever cared whether she kept her armour bright and her colours +flying high? Had not life itself mocked at her early aspirations, and trampled +jeeringly on her untutored, unformed high desires? What chance had she ever +had, long as she might, to keep the morning freshness? +</p> + +<p> +Well, what of it? She had sought and striven for fame, and fame had come; she +was a poor creature if she could not look life in the face now, and laugh above +her wounds. +</p> + +<p> +And in the meantime perhaps she could help him fight some of those other women +still; the women who would drag him down for their own satisfaction, and care +nothing for the hurt to him. +</p> + +<p> +Anyhow, she would try to be a good pal to him, and not a temptress. For once +she would fight for some one else’s hand instead of her own, and gain +what satisfaction she could in feeling herself a true friend. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<p> +About the time that the three in the Chelsea flat were leave-taking, a stream +of women-clerks in the long passages of the General Post Office proclaimed that +pressure of work had again meant “overtime” to these energetic +City-workers. +</p> + +<p> +In consequence, there was a lack of elasticity in the many passing feet, and +the suggestion of a tired silence in the cloak-room; for though the girls +hastened to get away from the dreary monotony of the huge building, they were, +many of them, too tired to depart as joyfully as was their wont. +</p> + +<p> +Yet most of them, behind the tiredness, looked out upon the world with clear, +capable eyes, and strong, self-reliant faces, that spoke well for the spirit of +their set. Up there in the big office-rooms, year in year out, these refined, +well-educated women kept ledgers and accounts and did the general office work +of the Civil Service with a precision and neatness and correctness equal to the +work of any men, and invariably to the astonishment of any interested visitor +who was permitted to inquire into the system. +</p> + +<p> +Yet the majority of their salaries ranged from £90 a year to £210, +and they were obliged to pas an examination of no mean stamp to attain a post. +Small wonder that many of them, having to help support others as well as keep +themselves, had the delicate, listless, anaemic appearance of underfed women +badly in need of fresh air, good food, and wholesome exercise. +</p> + +<p> +The policy of Great Britain towards her women workers is surely one of the +greatest contradictions of our enlightened age. Even putting aside the vexed +question of suffragism, how little has she ever done to try and cope with the +needs of working womanhood? +</p> + +<p> +In some Government departments, as, for instance, the Army Clothing Department, +it is a known fact that the women are actually sweated; and that in the higher +branches, employing gentlewomen, they pay them the lowest possible wage, not +because the work is ill-done, but because, owing to present conditions, plenty +of gentlewomen are found to accept the offer. +</p> + +<p> +Many of these gentlewomen lose their health in their struggle to obtain good +food, decent lodging, and a neat appearance on Government salaries, knowing +full well that the moment they fall out of the ranks numbers will be waiting to +fill their places. +</p> + +<p> +And in the meantime enlightened authors and politicians write articles, and +make speeches, holding forth upon the charm and beauty of the Home Woman, and +drawing unflattering comparisons between her and the worker. +</p> + +<p> +Comfortable elderly gentlemen, who have had successful careers and can now +afford to dine unwisely every night, and keep their daughters in well-dressed +indolence, self-satisfied, self-aggrandising, self-advertising young +politicians, who, having obtained an attentive public, delight to cant about +the rights of the citizen and the good of the Empire, clever, intuitive, +charming novelists, who apparently possess an unaccountable vein of dense +non-comprehension on some points—all harp upon this theme of the Home +Woman, and the Home Sphere, and the infinite superiority, in their own lordly +eyes, of the gentle, domesticated scion of the family hearth. +</p> + +<p> +As if one-fourth of the women wage-earners, gentle or otherwise, in England +today had any choice in the matter whatever. The rapidity with which a vacant +place in the ranks is filled and the numbers waiting for it is surely +sufficient proof of that; to say nothing of the pitiful conditions under which +many, gentle and otherwise, cling to their posts long after a merciful fate +should have given them the opportunity to save the remnants of their shattered +health amidst country breezes. +</p> + +<p> +It is useless to cry out to the woman that work and competition with men is +unbecoming to her. She <i>must</i> work, and she <i>must</i> compete, and +seeing this, it is surely time the British Government accepted the fact +magnanimously, and took more definite steps to assure her welfare. +</p> + +<p> +If it can only be done through woman’s suffrage, then woman’s +suffrage must surely come, because, whether British legislators care for the +good of women or not, nature does care, and as the race moves forward the +working woman will have to be protected. +</p> + +<p> +It has been seen over and over again that no band of politicians, nor powerful +men, nor tape-bound State can long defy any advancing good for the needs of the +whole. +</p> + +<p> +Whether women work or not, they are the mothers of the future; and because this +fact is greater than the sum of all other facts brought forward by the +narrowness and short-sightedness of men, we may safely believe that, since they +<i>must</i> work, nature will see to it that they work under the most +favourable conditions, no matter what rich men have to go the poorer for it. +</p> + +<p> +Pity is that the hour is so delayed; that narrowness, and selfishness, and +self-aggrandisement still flourish, to the eternal cost of those of +England’s mothers who bring weaklings into the world, through the hard +conditions of their enforced labour. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>true patriot</i> of today will agitate not only for the highest +possible efficiency in the Navy and Army; but, with no less resolve and +sincerity, for the best possible conditions obtainable for all women-workers, +that the Empire may not later sink suddenly to decay, in spite of her defences, +through the impoverished, feeble, sickly off-spring who are all the men she has +left. +</p> + +<p> +The <i>true patriot</i> will accept the ever-strengthening fact, however +unpalatable, that the development and emancipation of womanhood has brought +women to the front as workers, <i>to stay</i>; and he will perceive that +therefore it is incumbent upon the men to endeavour to find that happy mean, +where they can work together to the advantage of both, and to the stability and +greatness of a beloved country. +</p> + +<p> +Only now the women-workers toil bravely on, heartening each other with jests +under conditions in which it is extremely likely men would merely cavil and +sulk and fill the air with their complainings; dressing themselves daintily +through personal effort in spite of meagre purses; throwing themselves with a +splendid joyousness into their few precious days of freedom; banding themselves +together often and often to wring occasional hours of gaiety from the months of +toil; keeping brave eyes to the front and brave hearts to the task, while they +wait steadfastly for the day when their worth shall be appreciated and their +claims recognised. +</p> + +<p> +Hastening to the office in the morning, or hastening home (probably to cook +their own dinner) at night, they read those clever, carefully worded articles +and speeches by the men of power and weight, harping upon the charm and beauty +and superiority of the Home Woman; and they laugh across to each other with a +frank, rather pitying, rather irritated laughter, at the extraordinary +dull-wittedness of some brilliant brains. +</p> + +<p> +They wonder gaily how these enlightened, clever gentlemen would like it if they +all became sweet Home women in the workhouses, cultivating elegant gardens, and +floating round in flowing gowns at their expense. +</p> + +<p> +The men call them “new women” with derision, or mannish, or +unsexed; but those who have been among them, and known them as friends, know +that they hold in their ranks some of the most generous-hearted, unselfish, +big-souled women to exist in England today; and that it is just because of +that they are able to plod cheerfully on, and laugh that indulgent, pitying +little laugh, when an outraged man swells with virtuous indignation, and waxes +eloquent upon their want of womanly attributes. +</p> + +<p> +Of such as the best of these was Ethel Hayward. Among the crowd now hurrying +more or less tiredly into the open air, she might not have been noticed. So +many had white faces, dark-circled eyes, shabby-genteel clothing, and just a +commonplace fairness, that in the throng it was difficult to discover +distinguishing attributes. +</p> + +<p> +One had to see her apart, and note the quick, urgent step, the independent, +lofty poise of her head, and the steadfastness of the tired eyes, and firm, +strong mouth, to feel that life had given her a heavy burden, which only a +noble soul could have supported with heroism. +</p> + +<p> +As she left the portals of the General Post Office she hesitated a few seconds +as to her direction. “Should she go straight back to the little flat in +Holloway, or should she go west, and get the drawing-paper Basil was +wanting?” +</p> + +<p> +Doris could easily get the drawing-paper the next day, if she chose; and at the +flat Dudley Pritchard would have arrived for the evening. She surmised hastily +that it was extremely probable Doris had made some other engagement for herself +that she would be unwilling to delay, and that Dudley would in no wise regret +her own tardy return. +</p> + +<p> +The last thought caused her eyes to grow a little strained, as she walked +quickly westwards—strained with the determination to face the fact +unflinchingly, and try to overcome the deep, insistent ache it caused. +</p> + +<p> +But the love of a lifetime is not dismissed at will, and looking a little +pitifully backward, though she was but twenty-eight, Ethel felt she could not +remember the time when she did not love Dudley Pritchard, though it had perhaps +only crystallised into the great feature of her life at the time when, in +silent, heroic endeavour, he had given of all he had to win his friend back to +life and health. +</p> + +<p> +It was Dudley’s careful savings that he had paid for the great specialist +and the big operation; Dudley’s courage and devotion that had nerved the +stricken man to take up the awful burden of perpetual invalidism; +Dudley’s never-failing encouragement and friendship that helped him still +to bear the dreary months of utter weariness, in the little home kept together +by his sister’s salary. +</p> + +<p> +High up in the dreary-looking block of flats in Holloway, attended through the +day by the erratic ministrations of Doris, and at night by the yearning +tenderness of Ethel, Basil Hayward dragged out a weary martyrdom, that prayed +only for release. In vain Ethel murmured over him, that to work for him was a +glory compared to what it would be to live without him; in the silent, tedious +hours of her absence, his soul broke itself in hopeless, passionate protest +against the decree that compelled him to accept his daily bread at the hands of +the sister he would gladly have striven for day and night. +</p> + +<p> +It as a martyrdom across which one can but draw a curtain, and stand +“eyes frontt”. Look this way, look that, what answer is there, what +reason, what explanation, of the hidden martyrdoms of the work-a-day world, +which the blank wall of heaven seems to regard with utter unconcern? +</p> + +<p> +Mankind today is less disposed than ever of yore to calmly fold the hands and +say, “It is the will of God.” They can no longer do so honestly +without either blaming or criticising the Divine Will that not merely permits, +but is said to send, such martyrdoms. +</p> + +<p> +Better surely to accept bravely the enigma of the universe, and strive to +lessen the suffering in our own little sphere, believing that same Divine Will +is striving with us to mitigate the ills humanity has brought upon itself +through blind disobedience and careless indifference to the laws of nature. +</p> + +<p> +Uncomplaining resignation may help by its example, but the resignation which +sits with folded hands and makes no effort to amend, is only a form of +feebleness. The strong soul accepts life silently as a field of battle, asking +for energy, resource, courage, and that fine spirit which obeys the unseen +general in unquestioning faith. +</p> + +<p> +It was only in such a spirit, through those years of pain and mystery, that +Ethel was able to witness her passionately loved brother’s martyrdom, and +give all the years of her youth to earn that pour salary from a wealthy Empire, +to keep some sort of a home for the three of them in the little, dingy Holloway +flat. +</p> + +<p> +For even if Doris had been capable of sustained endeavour, the bedridden man +could not have been left alone for long, and no choice was left them but to eke +out Ethel’s pitiful £110 salary between them. +</p> + +<p> +Often perhaps a passionate resentment burned in her heart concerning the heavy +handicaps under which a woman achieves work equal to a man’s; but she had +no time to lend herself to any open protest, and toiled on, silently fighting +her individual daily battle the better encouraged by those brave women taking +all the opprobrium of the warfare upon their own shoulders, for the sake of +working womanhood as a whole. +</p> + +<p> +Only, of late a fresh burden had been added in the fear that Dudley was growing +to care for her sister Doris. +</p> + +<p> +It was not that she grudged Doris the happiness, nor the prospect of a home in +which she and Dudley might together take care of Basil; but she saw ahead the +tragedy of the awakening, when Dudley learnt of the shallow, selfish little +heart behind Doris’s charming exterior. +</p> + +<p> +That he, of all people, should be drawn to such an one was only the +contradiction seen on all sides in life. Because he had that old-fashioned +distrust of the independent, self-reliant woman, he must needs go to the +opposite extreme, and let himself be drawn to one capable of little else in the +world but ornamentation. Doris, she knew, was fitted only to be a rich +man’s plaything. Dudley, she felt instinctively, would start off by +expecting of her things she had never had to give, and in his dismay and +disappointment might wreck both their lives. +</p> + +<p> +Yet she felt powerless to take any step that might save them from each other, +knowing full well that Doris, bored with her life at the flat, had decided that +even life with Dudley would be better. And even as Ethel hastened westwards, +instead of towards home, Doris with infinite pains put the finishing touches to +her pretty hair, and took a last survey of her dainty person before the +well-known step should sound on the stone staircase outside their unpretentious +little door. +</p> + +<p> +She had been very irritable with the invalid, because he was trying to get a +plan copied quickly, and wanted a special arrangement of light, just when she +was ready to go and dress after preparing the dinner; but when at last Dudley +knocked on the door, Doris opened it to him with a face of such charming +innocence and smiles that irritability would never have been imagined in the +répertoire of her characteristics. A little helpless, a little childish, she +might be, but what clever man does not love a clinging woman? +</p> + +<p> +“It was so nice of you to come,” she said. “It is such a +dreary place to turn out to after your long day at the office.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I love coming,” he answered simply. “You know I +do.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her with unconscious admiration, and Doris noted for the hundredth +time that although he was not particularly tall, nor particularly good-looking, +nor particularly anything, yet his thin, clean-shaven face had a clever, +distinguished air, and he had unmistakably the cut and breeding of a gentleman. +She knew that even if he were only moderately well off, and could not afford +the dash she loved, he was at least good to be seen with, and a man who might +one day make his mark. So, though she deprecated most of the qualities which +were in reality his best points, she decided in her calculating little head she +would seriously contemplate becoming Mrs. Dudley Pritchard. +</p> + +<p> +His greeting with the invalid was, for Dudley, a little boisterous—the +result of a hint from Ethel. He would probably never have had time to see for +himself that such a man as Basil Hayward would hate a pitying air or invalid +manner, but he was sympathetic enough to respond quickly to a suggestion that +the latest cricket or football news, gaily imparted, was far more pleasing to +the invalid than a sympathetic inquiry after his health. +</p> + +<p> +For Basil Hayward, sufferer and martyr, was prouder of his near relationship to +a celebrated international cricketer than he would ever had been of his own +sublime courage had it been lauded to the skies. Life had left him little +enough, but “give me the power still to glory in every manly and athletic +achievement of my countrymen,” was his unspoken request. +</p> + +<p> +So they discussed the latest sporting news of the world, and then had a great +argument on a plan of Dudley’s for a competition for a grand-stand and +pavilion on a celebrated aviation ground, while they waited for Ethel. +</p> + +<p> +The small flat had only one sitting-room, and while they talked Doris flitted +gracefully about, putting the finishing touches to the table. Afterwards she +sat on a low chair under the lamp, so that the light fell full on her pretty +hair, while she bowed her head with unwonted industry over a piece of sewing. +</p> + +<p> +Occasionally she glanced up at the two men, meeting Dudley’s eyes with a +pretty confiding look that only added to her charm. +</p> + +<p> +“Ethel is so late. I wonder if we had better wait,” she said at +last. “She told me on no account to do so.” +</p> + +<p> +Basil glanced at the clock a little anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“It is too bad,” he murmured; “they have no right to expect +so much overtime work. She is sure to come soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but I think she would like us to begin”; and Doris rose +slowly. “It will save time when she does come in.” +</p> + +<p> +It was plain Basil disapproved, but she pretended not to see it, and in a short +time she and Dudley were seated tête-à-tête, while the invalid remained on his +couch. They were gay from spontaneity of pleasure, and Hal would have been +surprised at the cheeriness of her grave brother, had she seen how he responded +to Doris’s playful mood. +</p> + +<p> +Then Ethel’s key sounded in the door, and it was as though a slight +shadow fell upon them. Doris wished she had been later still; Dudley seemed to +grow grave again, from habit, and Basil watched the door like a big devoted +dog, with eyes of hungry love. +</p> + +<p> +As she entered her first glance was for him, and her nod and smile ere she +turned to greet the visitor hid all her own weariness, and was reflected in a +light of glad welcome on the sick man’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so glad you didn’t wait,” she said; “I +stayed to get the drawing-paper.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why did you, dear?” he asked, with quick remonstrance. +“Doris could easily have gone tomorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I could”; and Doris skilfully threw a hurt tone in her +voice, which Dudley was quick to detect. +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to walk,” was all Ethel said, as she moved away to take +off her hat and coat. +</p> + +<p> +But in spite of her efforts the gaiety did not return, and Doris grew a little +pensive and sad. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley, with his surface reasoning, saw in her attitude something that +suggested the other two were in the habit of being entirely wrapped up in each +other, to the exclusion of the young sister. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel might be a remarkably clever and capable woman; he knew perfectly well +that she was just as able with her fingers as her brain, and did nearly all the +upholstering and dressmaking of the household in her evening free time; but +wasn’t she just a little superior and self-satisfied also—just a +little unkindly indifferent to the monotony and dullness of her young +sister’s existence? +</p> + +<p> +Dudley found his sympathy go out more and more to those childlike eyes, and the +pretty, clinging ways; and a sort of half-fledged resentment grew up against +the elder sister. He could not choose but admire her, if it were only for her +devotion to her brother, but he felt a vague something, in his thoughts of her, +that he could not express, and remained grave. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel, watching them both covertly while she moved about helping Doris to clear +away the dinner things, guessed at much that was passing in his mind, and +unconsciously grew a little strained in her manner to him. That he should pity +Doris and blame her seemed at last irony, but it could not be helped; and not +even to win his love could she attempt to change her natural manner, and appear +what might better please him. +</p> + +<p> +She even said “good-night” a little coldly, and remained beside +Basil while Doris went out into the tiny hall with him to get his hat and coat. +</p> + +<p> +Doris seemed to Dudley a lonely little figure out there in the dim light, with +just the suggestion of a droop about her lips and wistfulness in her eyes. He +believed that she found herself left out in the cold with those other two, but +was too proud to complain. He felt a tenderness springing up in his heart and +spreading to his eyes as he leaned towards her with a protecting air. +</p> + +<p> +She was small and fragile. It made him feel big and protective; and he liked +it. Hal was so tall and straight and slim and boyish—not in the least the +sort of person one could really feel protective to; and he liked clinging +women… His head bent down quite near to hers as he said in a low tone: “I +suppose they are like lovers, those two, and you feel a little out of it, +eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes”—confidingly and gratefully—“and it makes +me very unhappy, because I love to slave for Basil just as much as Ethel does. +But he does not want me…” with a little sad air. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I think you are mistaken. It could never be that. It is only that +they have always been so devoted, and I expect it is too lonely for you here. +You do not get enough change. Would you care to go to the White City with me on +Thursday evening?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I should love it!” and there was a quick gleam in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, I will arrange it.” His hand closed over hers +lingeringly. “Good-bye. Don’t be despondent. I will let you know +where to meet me. We might have dinner at a restaurant first; shall we?” +</p> + +<p> +Again she expressed her delight, and Dudley went off with a glow of pleasure +that was a surprise to him. +</p> + +<p> +But behind the closed door Doris smiled a little smile in the darkness, that +had none of the artless innocence of the smiles reserved for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ethel would just give her head to go with him,” was her first +thought; and then, “I hope he won’t go to a cheap +restaurant.” +</p> + +<p> +In the sitting-room Ethel was putting the last touches to the invalid’s +comfort for the night, moving about busily. Doris leaned against the table, and +made no attempt to help her. +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley wants me to go to the White City with him on Thursday evening. I +said I would.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thursday is the night I have to go and see Dr. Renshaw”; and Ethel +glanced round with a shadow of vexation on her face. +</p> + +<p> +“I know it is, but you will not be very late.” She paused, then +added, “I do not get so many treats that I can afford to miss one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley could probably have gone any other night. Did you ask him?” +</p> + +<p> +Ethel spoke a little quickly, and Doris looked ready with a sharp retort, when +Basil interposed. +</p> + +<p> +“Thursday will be all right, chum. Doris won’t leave before six and +you will get in by half-past seven. I shall have nearly two whole hours in +which to do any silly thing I like, without getting scolded”; and his +smile was very winsome. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like you to have to wait so long for your dinner. You +always get faint. Perhaps Dr. Renshaw would see me another evening... +I—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nonsense, chum”—in the same cheery +voice—“I’ll have a tin of sardines, and eat one every ten +minutes until you come.” +</p> + +<p> +Ethel let the matter drop, seeing it would please him best, and Doris retired +to their room with a slightly sulky air. +</p> + +<p> +“There always seems to be something to damp it if I am to have a +treat,” was her complaint. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think you will feel damped after you start,” Ethel +replied quietly, and they went to bed in silence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<p> +When Dudley got back he found Hal waiting up for him, with an expression of +shining eagerness on her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Dudley, such fun!” she began, “Lorraine has got the +royal box for me for Thursday evening. We must have a little dinner-party. Who +shall we take? It holds four comfortably, and two men could stand at the +back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thursday evening!” looking a little taken aback. “I am +engaged.” +</p> + +<p> +“Engaged! Well, you must put it off. Why didn’t you tell me? I +thought you said you had any night free except Friday.” +</p> + +<p> +“I only made the engagement this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going to see Basil again? He won’t mind being put +off.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It isn’t Basil.” +</p> + +<p> +“What then?” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley turned away, threw his gloves carelessly down on a sidetable, and picked +up some letters. +</p> + +<p> +“I asked Doris to go to the White City with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You—you asked Doris to go to the White City?...” she +repeated incredulously. “What in the world for?” +</p> + +<p> +“To see it, of course. What else should I ask her for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Heaven only knows! Why ask her at all? I should certainly upset her +into the canal from sheer irritation if she came with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Such nonsense.” He knit his forehead into a decided frown. +“You are so unfair to Doris. You used to complain that I was unfair to +Lorraine. I was never as unfair as you are now. You don’t really know +Doris at all; and she has never done anything to hurt you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t follow that she wouldn’t if she had the chance. +You’re so awfully dense about women, Dudley. Why didn’t you invite +Ethel instead? She is worth a hundred Dorises. Then we could have taken her to +the theatre.” +</p> + +<p> +His voice and manner grew very cold. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t agree with you, but it is not a subject I care to discuss. +Is there any reason why Doris should not be invited to the theatre?” +</p> + +<p> +“None whatever, except that I don’t propose to ask her.” +</p> + +<p> +They faced each other a moment almost angrily, except that whereas Dudley was +distinctly vexed, Hal was a little scornful, and half-laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I cannot come either, and”—he paused a moment, to add +with decision—“I object to your going unchaperoned.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that you wish me to give up the box?” +</p> + +<p> +“You know what I mean.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was thoughtful a moment, and then remarked with sudden glee: +</p> + +<p> +“I know what I’ll do. I’ll take the Three Graces, and +persuade Quin’s aunt to come as chaperone. Then we’ll all have +supper with Lorraine afterwards. You shall have a nice, quiet, interesting +evening with Doris, and I’ll get two stalls for you for another +night.” +</p> + +<p> +She moved about, gathering up her things. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know Quin’s aunt, Lady Bounce, do you? She’s +the dearest old soul, and she loves a theatre. Night-night, old boy; +don’t keep Doris too long near the canal, in case you are taken with my +inclination”; and she went gaily off, humming a popular air. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley read through his letters without grasping any of their contents. For the +first time Hal’s attitude to Doris seriously worried him, and he felt +vaguely there was trouble ahead. +</p> + +<p> +But when Thursday came, and they were together, she again had the same pleasing +effect upon his senses, and he let himself be persuaded that if Hal grew to +know her better, she could not choose but grow fond of her. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime a group in the royal box at the Greenway Theatre was causing no +small interest to a crowded house. +</p> + +<p> +There was Hal, with her smart, well-groomed air, gleaming white neck and arms, +and her white, even teeth that looked so attractive even in the distance when +she smiled. +</p> + +<p> +Dick Bruce, spruce and scholarly, hugely pleased with himself, because he had +an article in <i>The National Review</i>, on the strength of the colonies in +war time; and some lines entitled “Baby’s Boredom” in +<i>Fireside Chat</i>, concerning which he had already announced his intention +of standing the champagne for their supper with the cheque. +</p> + +<p> +Of the other two occupants it would be difficult to say which attracted the +most attention. Alymer Hermon, with his immense stature and splendid head, or +Quin’s aunt, Lady Bounce, who presented so striking a resemblance to +another well-known little old lady sometimes seen at the theatre, that friends +of the last-mentioned were utterly puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +Surely only one little lady in London wore that early Victorian dress, with the +ringlets and “grande dame” air, and sat with such genuine delight +and enjoyment through a play? And yet why did she not look out for her numerous +friends, down there in the stalls, and recognise them? +</p> + +<p> +And who in the world was she with? If that were indeed Lady Phyllis +Fenton—and it seemed incredible it should not be—who was the +splendid young giant, and who the white-faced girl with the brilliant smile? +</p> + +<p> +And all the time, absorbed in the play and her companions, the little old lady +smiled and talked, calmly indifferent to the many eyes below waiting for the +expected bow of recognition. +</p> + +<p> +Quin, apparently, had not been willing to desert his slummers for a gay +West-end theatre; so Hal was only escorted by two Graces instead of three, but +the light in her eyes, for any one near enough to see, suggested she was +enjoying herself to the utmost in spite of it. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the final sensation, of the little old lady in her strange costume +and ringlets, passing through the vestibule, on the arm of the young giant, +followed by the sleek-looking, well-groomed pair of cousins, who chatted to +each other with an air of the utmost unconcern towards the curious glances now +levelled at them upon all sides. +</p> + +<p> +“It <i>must</i> be Lady Phyllis Fenton,” said some. “It +<i>can’t</i> be,” said others. “Then who the devil is +it?” asked the men. +</p> + +<p> +And still the little group passed on, smiling and unconcerned, though a red +spot burned in the giant’s smooth cheeks, and he carefully avoided any +possibility of meeting Hal’s gleaming eyes. +</p> + +<p> +A roomy electric brougham was awaiting them, and then the watchers said it +glided away: “Surely that is Lady Phyllis’s car and +liveries?” +</p> + +<p> +But what they would have made of the scene inside the car it is difficult to +say, for the dear little old lady suddenly collapsed backwards on her seat, +with a howl of laughter, and shot into the air a pair of trousered legs. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh my conscience!” gasped Quin, amid choking laughter. “It +will be the sensation of the season; and when Aunt Phyllis gets to hear about +it she’ll first have a fit with wrath and then laugh until she’s +ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d no idea you were such an actor, Quin,” Hal exclaimed +admiringly when she could speak; “you ought be holding crowded houses +enthralled, instead of slumming.” +</p> + +<p> +“Heaven preserve me. Theatres are mostly mummies looking at mummies. Down +east I get in touch with flesh and blood—the real thing; and I prefer it. +But I wouldn’t have missed tonight for something. Oh, lord!... just +think of the people who know Aunt Phyllis that I must have cut; and all the +fuss there will be when aunt is admonished for supping at the Savoy with an +actress! We aren’t half through the fun yet.” +</p> + +<p> +With which they all went off into fresh peals of laughter, at various +reminiscences, and were bordering upon a condition of imbecility when Lorraine +at last joined them with the latest news. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s positively immense,” she said. “The manager told +me Lady Phyllis Fenton had come with Miss Pritchard, and tomorrow every paper +will announce it, and the mystery will grow. I ’phoned for a private room +at the Savoy, to keep the puzzle up. She must only be seen passing through on +Mr. Hermon’s arm. How splendid they must look. I almost wish I +wasn’t in the secret.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they do!” Hal cried. “Alymer ought to have had knee +breeches and silk stockings, and they would look just perfect. I have to talk +fast to Dick, or I should give it all away in my face.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll have to settle with your aunt,” Lorraine laughed to +Quin. “I hope she won’t cut you off with a shilling.” +</p> + +<p> +“She will be furiously angry and terrifically interested,” he said. +“I expect I shall have to take you all to dinner to show her what the +party looked like. Of course, Bonne, her maid, will give it away, because I +borrowed the garments from her, and said they were for a play I was getting up +in the East End.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll have a bad half-hour with Dudley,” Dick remarked to +Hal, with enjoyment. “He is sure to hear of it somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure,” resignedly; “but if it were a bad two hours it +would still have been worth it. It reminds me of the old days at school, +Lorraine, when we used to get into scrapes on purpose, if the fun made it worth +while.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no gayer supper party in the Savoy that night, and the champagne paid +for with the proceeds of “Baby’s Boredom” proved none the +less vivifying for the insipidity of its source. Dick insisted upon reciting +his doggerel, and Quin was not only much toasted as “Lady Bounce”, +but carried kicking round the room by the giant, because in a moment of +forgetfulness he used a swear-word, which they all insisted was a reflecton +upon the conversation of his illustrious aunt. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine, in most amusing form herself, laughed until she was tired out, and +wondered why she was not bored. She asked the question of Alymer Hermon, who +was privileged to see her home, while Dick returned with Hal, and Quin beat a +hasty retreat to get rid of his disguise. +</p> + +<p> +“After all, you are only boys,” she said, with a little smile, +“and I’m... well, I’m Lorraine Vivian.” +</p> + +<p> +The giant gazed thoughtfully out of the brougham window a moment, and from her +corner Lorraine looked long, and a little sadly, at the finely modelled head +and profile. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” he said at length, “a great many people you meet +make a special effort to please you, and try to make an impression on you. We +being all so young, and just nobodies, realise the uselessness of wasting our +efforts, and are merely natural.” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled in the shadow, and glanced away from him with the sadness deepening. +</p> + +<p> +“I feel tonight I should like to be one of you—so young and just +nobody. It would be a pleasant change.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think you would like it at all.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her with a slightly puzzled air. +</p> + +<p> +“Only the other day you were speaking to me of achievement and ambition. +You seemed to care so much. You must be glad.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, yes,” wearily; “but it isn’t enough by itself. +There is something I have missed, and tonight I feel that it might outweight +all the rest—something to do with being young, and careless, and fresh, +and just nobody.” +</p> + +<p> +Still looking at her with slightly puzzled, very kindly eyes, he answered +simply, “I’m so sorry.” +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to shrink away suddenly into her corner. The very simplicity of his +sympathy, and the quiet, natural friendliness in his face, stirred some strange +chord in her heart with a swift, unaccountable ache. He looked so big and +strong and splendid there in the shadow, with his freshness and his charm; and +she felt very brain-fagged and world-weary; and without in the least knowing +why, or what led up to the desire, she wanted to feel his arms about her, and +his freshness soothing her spirit. +</p> + +<p> +And instead he was not even attempting to make love to her, not even flirting +with her. Would any other man she knew have ridden beside her thus after the +gentleness she had shown? Was that perhaps the very secret of his attraction? +Or was it a physical allurement—the irresistible charm of bigness and +strength, independent of anything else, drawing with its time-old sway? +</p> + +<p> +She had no time to probe further, as the brougham stopped at her door. He +handed her out with the deference so often met with in big men, remarking with +an old-fashioned air that suited him to perfection: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid we have all tired you very much. It was good of you to +come with us. I can’t tell you how much we appreciate it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, indeed no; you refreshed me. Good-night. Stevens will run you home. +Don’t forget Sunday”, and she moved away. +</p> + +<p> +“It must be his bigness,” was her last thought as her head touched +the pillow. “When I am used to it, no doubt the novelty will pass, and I +shall find him merely boyish, and be rather bored.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if it is her dainty smallness,” Dudley was musing, away +in his Bloomsbury lodging, feeling still, with a pleasant thrill, the touch of +Doris’s small hand on his arm, and seeing again the upward, confiding +expression in her wide blue eyes. “Odd that Hal should be so far astray +in her judgment, when she is usually so clever; but if she knew her better she +would change her mind.” +</p> + +<p> +As for Hal herself, she hastily tumbled into bed, still chuckling in huge +enjoyment over her evening. +</p> + +<p> +“Those boys are just dears,” was her thought, “and I +wouldn’t have missed Lady Bounce for the world. What a good thing Dudley +was taken with paternal affection for that little fool Doris, and I had to have +a chaperone. Heigh-ho! what a scene there will be if he hears about it; but +what’s the odds so long as you’re happy? And oh dear! what will +Lady Phyllis Fenton say when she finds out”; and once more the even teeth +flashed an irresistible smile into the darkness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<p> +It was force of habit chiefly that caused Lorraine, as a rule, to sleep long +and late on Sunday mornings; and it was greatly to her advantage that for so +many months, and even years, no mental anxiety had robbed her of a splendid +capacity to rest. She seemed to have a faculty for limiting her worrying hours +to the daylight, and being able to lay them aside, like her correspondence, at +night. +</p> + +<p> +Yet on the following Sunday morning she found herself early awake, with a brain +only too ready to begin probing restlessly, and having little of the calm +friendliness she intended it should have towards her guest of the evening. +</p> + +<p> +To add to her unrest, her mother paid her an early visit, of a sort that had +been growing too frequent of late. It was not enough that Lorraine paid her +rent, and gave her a handsome allowance; when there chanced to be no one else +to pay her debts, these came upon Lorraine’s shoulders also. +</p> + +<p> +T-day it was a long, rambling tale of a hard-hearted dressmaker who, having had +a new frock back for alteration, had taken upon herself to return the skirt, +without the bodice, with an intimation that she was retaining the delayed +portion until her long account was settled. Hence Mrs. Vivian found herself +with what she called a most important engagement, without the equally important +new frock to go in. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine lay under the bedclothes, with only her head showing, and watched her +a little coldly, as she moved restlessly about the room airing her woes. She +had promised Madame Luce, over and over again, to settle in a week or two; and +who would have believed the odious woman would serve her such a trick? +</p> + +<p> +Never again, if she had to go naked, would she order a garment from her of any +description whatever. And the friends she had sent to her as customers! Why, +half the woman’s trade was owing to her introduction. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the friends don’t pay their bills,” Lorraine +suggested in a tired voice. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vivian drew herself up a little haughtily. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not think there is any occasion to cast reflections on my friends, +even if you do not choose to be sociable to them,” which remark was +intended as a dignified hit at Lorraine’s invincible determination to +maintain friendly relations with her mother, without having anything whatever +to do with her mother’s friends. +</p> + +<p> +As many previous hits, it fell quite harmlessly; it was doubtful if Lorraine +even heard it, half hidden there in the bedclothes with her tired eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it isn’t any use reminding you that your personal +expenditure exceeds mine?” she hinted, “and that you have already +far overstepped the allowance we stipulated?” +</p> + +<p> +“You do not have time to go about as much as I do, and it makes a great +difference not having hosts of friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t seem to get much pleasure out of them,” Lorraine +could not resist saying, knowing as she did how much of her salary went into +the pockets of these so-called friends, in order to buy their adherence. +</p> + +<p> +“Do I get much pleasure out of anything?” irritably. “My only +child is one of the first actresses in London, and what is it to me? Do I have +the pleasure of going about with her? or living with her? or taking any part +in her success?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it isn’t such a small thing to live by her. If I were +not successful, we could certainly not live here. It might have been Islington +and omnibuses,” and she smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“As if that were all. Probably, as real companions we might have been +even happier in Islington.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine stiffened. “Companions!… Ah, I, with whom else ever dancing +attendance, and changing in identity every few months?” +</p> + +<p> +But she made no comment, for the days of her hot-headed, deep-hearted judging +were over; and from behind inscrutable eyes she looked upon the things that one +sees without seeming to see them, and accepted facts that hurt her very soul, +with a callous, cynical air that defied the keenest shafts of probing. +</p> + +<p> +It was her armour in an envious, merciless world, that would have rejoiced +before her eyes if it could have driven in a barbed arrow even through her +mother. +</p> + +<p> +More than once a jealous enemy had tried and failed, routed utterly by +Lorraine’s cynical, cool treatment of a fact that she knew no persuasion +nor arguing could have helped her to refute. She did not even weep about it now +in secret. +</p> + +<p> +It was as though she had shed all the tears she had to shed during that year of +utter revulsion spent in the Italian Riviera, companied by the passionless +solitudes of snowtopped mountains. Something of a great patience and a great +gentleness had come to her then, helping her to hide the loathing she could not +crush, and place the fact of motherhood first of all. +</p> + +<p> +As her mother, she had taken Mrs. Vivian back into her heart, and given her +generously of what worldly possessions she had. And she had done it with a +wondrous quiet and absence of all ostentation either outwardly or inwardly. It +had never occured to Lorraine that, whether it was a duty or not, after what +had passed it was certainly a fine act upon her part. +</p> + +<p> +She had not questioned about it at all. To her mother’s apologetic gush +she had merely turned calm eyes and a strong face. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t worth while to remember the past at all,” she had +said; “we will just begin again on rather different lines. I’ll +always let you have as much money as I can spare.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Vivian had been a little taken aback by the new Lorraine who returned from +Italy; and not a little afraid before the calm, inscrutable eyes; so that she +had secretly rejoiced at the arrangement which gave her a separate +establishment of her own; but none the less, in bursts of righteous indignation +supposed to emanate from her outraged feelings as a mother, she usually chose +to make it her pet grievance. +</p> + +<p> +And still Lorraine only smiled the tired smile, and glanced carelessly aside +with the inscrutable eyes until the tirade was over, the coveted cheque made +out, and her own little sanctum once again in peaceful possession. +</p> + +<p> +Only just occasionally, if the interview had been specially trying, she might +have been seen afterwards to glance whimsically across to the picture, recently +enlarged from an old photograph, of a fine-looking man in full hunting-rig +standing beside a favourite hunter. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor old dad,” she murmured once; “I don’t wonder you +couldn’t keep up the old place. I don’t know how you got along at +all without my salary.” +</p> + +<p> +Once when she was feeling the drag of it all a little keenly she told the man +in the picture: “Mother is splendidly handsome, and I daresay I owe her a +good deal; but thank God you were there with your fine old name and family to +give me the things that matter most. It sometimes seems as if we had got each +other still, dad, and, for the rest, some are frail in one way and some +another, and fretting doesn’t help any one.” The fine eyes had +grown more whimsically wistful looking into the face of the huntsman as she +finished: “Anyhow, the last favourite is second cousin to a duke, and she +pointed out to me, he might have been only a butcher.” +</p> + +<p> +How much Hal knew of her mother’s life Lorraine had never been able to +gauge, but she had reason to think she knew something and was sporting enough +to pretend otherwise. If so, she blessed her for it, feeling that by that +generous non-acknowledgment she rendered a service both to her and her dead +father. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it seemed strange that any one so young and fresh as Hal should be able to +act thus, instead of suffering a violent repulsion. Was it the depth of her +splendid friendship; or was it a naturally adaptable, common-sense nature; or +was it non-comprehension? +</p> + +<p> +As time passed and she grew to know Hal yet better, she felt instinctively it +was the first of these, coupled with that true sportsman-spirit which was one +of her strongest attributes. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine was not the only one who felt that whether Hal had any religion or +not, or any faith, through good and ill, by easy paths and difficult, one might +be absolutely sure that she would “play the game.” It made her feel +herself richer with her one friend than with her mother’s admitted hosts, +and though she seemed to hesitate and reason on that Sunday morning, both knew +the cheque would finally be written, and the coveted garment rescued in time +for the important lunch. +</p> + +<p> +Only, afterwards, a shadow seemed to linger today that heretofore would have +vanished with the departing figure. The sunshine crept through the drawn +curtains, lying like a shaft of hope across the gloom, but it brought no +answering gleam into the beautiful eyes, with their tired, far-off gaze. +</p> + +<p> +It was all very well for Hal to be a main feature in her life, blessing it with +her friendship, while she turned kindly, unseeing eyes away from the corners +where the murky shadows lay: Hal, who knew about the mad, discreditable +marriage and its violent termination, and probably also of her mother’s +insatiable thirst for admiration and excitement at any cost. +</p> + +<p> +There was something about Hal in herself that was as a shining armour, against +which unkind barbs fell harmlessly, and enabled her to go on her serene and +joyful way in blissful non-attention. +</p> + +<p> +But could it be the same with this treasured only son, who was doubtless +destined for a high place in the world by doting parents, and other proud +bearers of the same old name? Of course he might sup and trifle with certain +denizens of the theatrical world galore; it would only be part of his +education, and a thing to wink at, but she already doubted whether such a +slight companionship would have any attraction. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of his youthfulness, there was something in him that would naturally +and quickly respond to the fine shades in herself, and grow into a friendship +that had no part with the casual, gay acquaintanceships of the theatre and the +world. +</p> + +<p> +In a sense he was like Hal, and she knew that just as she attracted Hal’s +devotion in spite of all disparity of years and circumstances, so, if she +chose, she could make this young giant more or less her slave. +</p> + +<p> +But was it worht it? +</p> + +<p> +What did she, on her high pedestal, want with his young admiration? What did +she want with a companion so undeveloped that she herself must awaken his +strongest forces? +</p> + +<p> +Through the gloom, unheeding the shaft of sunlight, she saw him again, towering +up there on her hearth, with his young splendour, so extraordinarily unspoilt +as yet; and she knew that, reasonable or unreasonable, she was attracted far +beyond her wont. +</p> + +<p> +And then she thought of his easy-going temperament, his lack of ambition, his +half-sleepy attitude towards life. +</p> + +<p> +What if the wheels ran so smoothly for him that the latent forces were never +aroused, and little achieved of all that might be? +</p> + +<p> +If love came at his asking, and a sufficiency of success to satisfy an +easy-going nature, what would there ever be to stir depths which she truly +believed were worth stiring? Was it so small a thing to help a fine soul +forward to its best attainment?... was such an aim not worth some going aside +for both? +</p> + +<p> +She felt there were things she could teach him, which without her he might +entirely miss; and if without her he were the better according to a +conventional standard, he might yet be far the poorer in the big, deep things +of life. +</p> + +<p> +Well, no doubt circumstances would end by suiting themselves, with or without +her agency. In the meantime why worry, in a world that it would seem worked out +its own ends, sublimely indifferent to the individual? +</p> + +<p> +They were going to dine together tonight anyhow; their first tête-à-tête +dinner and evening: time enough to probe and worry when she was more sure a +mutual attraction existed; wiser at present to seek a counter attraction for +her own sake, that she might not uselessly build a castle without foundations. +</p> + +<p> +Prompt as ever, she reached out for the receiver beside her bed and rang up the +Albany to know if Lord Denton were awake yet. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not awake,” came back a sleepy answer. “I am +asleep, and dreaming of Lorraine Vivian. If my man wakes me now, I shall curse +him solidly for half an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, will you dream you are going to take her for a spin into the +country shortly? I happen to know she is fainting for the longing to breathe +country air.” +</p> + +<p> +“In my dream I am already waiting at her door, with the Yellow Peril +spluttering its heart out with delight, and eagerness to be off. I have even +dreamt she managed to put a motor bonnet on in half-an-hour—is it +conceivable—or should it be half a day?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, your dream is right. Be outside the door in half an hour, and you +will see.” +</p> + +<p> +An hour later they were spinning out into Surrey at an alarming pace, both +silently revelling in the freshness and motion and the fact that they were too +old friends to need to trouble about conversation. When they dived into the +lanes he slowed down, remarking: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose we mustn’t risk scrunching any one up.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine only smiled, remaining silent a little longer, and then she suddenly +asked him: +</p> + +<p> +“When you feel yourself inclined to fall in love foolishly what do you +do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well… as a rule…” he began slowly and humorously, “I either +cut and run, or I hurry to see so much of her that I am bound to get +bored.” +</p> + +<p> +“The first plan sounds the safest, but would often be the most difficult +of execution. Supposing the second miscarries and you don’t get +bored?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then I think—usually—there is an awful moment when I +have to tell her I can’t afford both a motor and a wife; and to be +motorless would kill me.” +</p> + +<p> +A sudden little twitching at the corners made Lorraine’s mouth +dangerously fascinating. +</p> + +<p> +“Evidently you have never fallen in love with me,” she said, +“for you have not been driven to either way of escape.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked into her face with an answering humour, and a twinkle in his eyes as +alluring as her smilling lips. +</p> + +<p> +“Because when I fell in love with you I did it sensibly, and not +foolishly,” was his answer; “instinct told me I couldn’t have +you for my wife however much I wished it, so I said myself: ‘Flip, old +boy, she’ll make a thundering good pal, you close with it,’ and I +did.” +</p> + +<p> +She made no comment, and he went on more seriously: +</p> + +<p> +“You see, even if you became marriageable and I cut out the motor, you +wouldn’t be attracted to an ordinary sort of cove like me. I suit you +down to the ground as a pal, but it wouldn’t go any farther.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder why you think that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t exactly <i>think</i> it—thinking is too much +bother—but it’s just there, like a commonplace fact. You are all +temperament, and high-strung nerves, and soul, and enthusiasm, and that sort of +thing, which makes you a great actress. I’m just a two-legged, superior +sort of animal, who hasn’t much brain, but knows what he likes, and +usually does it without wasting time on pros and cons. Consequently, I’m +just as likely to end in prison as anywhere else, and take it without much +concern as all in the day’s work. You are more likely to end in a +nunnery, as the most devout of all the nuns.” +</p> + +<p> +“What an odd idea! Why a nunnery?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, because it’s an extreme of one sort or another, and you are +made for extremes. You’ll perhaps be very wicked first”—he +smiled delightfully—“after which, of course, you’d have to be +very good. It’s the way you’re made. I’m cut out on quite a +different plan. I can’t be ‘very’ anything, unless it’s +very drunk after the Oxford and Cambridge at Lord’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think I could be very wicked?” She asked the question with +a thoughtfulness that amused him greatly, and he answered at once: +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t a doubt of it. You are probably plotting the particular +form of wickedness at this very moment.” +</p> + +<p> +She laughed, and he went on in the same serio-comic mood: +</p> + +<p> +“I quite envy you. It must be very thrilling to think to oneself, +‘I’ve dared to be desperately wicked.’ You cease to be a +nonentity at once and become a force. You get right to hand-grips with the big +elemental things. Of course that is interesting, but it usually means a +confounded lot of bother.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are as bad as Hal Pritchard. She announced the other day she would +rather have a dishonest purpose than no purpose at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the same idea, only Miss Pritchard lives up to her creed by +being full of energy and purpose; whereas I can’t be anything but a +mediocre waster. I’ve neither the pluck to be wicked, not the energy to +be good, nor enough purpose to regret it. I believe I’m best described as +an aristocratic ‘stiff’, a ‘stiff’ being a person who +spends his life trying to avoid having to do things. +</p> + +<p> +“I fill a niche all the same,” he finished, “because I make +such an excellent foil for the other chaps, who like to pride themselves on +their superiority and hard work. It’s nice for them to be able to say +contemptuously, ‘Look at Denton,’ and it’s nice for me to be +able to feel I’m of some use, without the bother of making an +effort.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are certainly quite incorrigible as an idler, if that can be called +a purpose, and, Flip, don’t change; I love you for it; you are one of the +most restful things I have ever known.” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced into her face with a keenness that somewhat belied his professed +incapacity to be in earnest, and remarked with seeming lightness: +</p> + +<p> +“Feeling a bit down on your luck, eh? Are you thinking of falling in love +foolishly?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m thinking of trying to guard against doing so.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ought not to find it difficult. Crowd him out with other +admirers.” +</p> + +<p> +“It seems as if he were going to do the crowding out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, is he so big?” jocularly. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s six foot five-and-a-half of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whew! And thin as a lathe, I suppose; a sort of animated telegraph +pole.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; broad in proportion, cut to measure absolutely.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he is a fine fellow,” with conviction. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine felt a swift glow of pride, and then inwardly admonished herself for +being silly. What, after all, was size? As Hal had trenchantly remarked, plenty +of London policemen were just as big and fine. Half in self-defence she added: +</p> + +<p> +“He has brains as well, and he is as handsome as Apollo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then run,” was the laconic response; “don’t stop to +buy a ticket; pay the other end.” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled, but grew suddenly serious. Leaning forward with eyes straining hard +to the horizon, she said: “Flip, I’ve had a hard life, in spite of +the success. Shall I run?... or... shall I stay, and snatch joy, while there is +still time?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her with a growing interest. +</p> + +<p> +“If I were you I should run,” he said; “but, all the same, I +think you’ll stay.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I don’t think I shall. There are other reasons. He is a good +deal younger than I—and—well, I’ve a fair amount on my soul +already.” +</p> + +<p> +The tired shadow was coming back to her eyes, but she laughed suddenly with an +attempt at gaiety. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to have heard Hal Pritchard on the subject. She remarked there +were plenty of London policemen just as big, and suggested if I wanted a fine +young animal to play with, I should be safer with a polar bear from the +Zoo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well done, Hal. We ought to have brought her. Where is she +today?” +</p> + +<p> +“Careering across England in a haphazard fashion with her cousin Dick +Bruce. Do you mind turning towards home now? I’m dining out, and have +some letters to write.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who’s the happy man tonight?... I thought of course I was to +have the whole day.” +</p> + +<p> +“With a view to getting wholesomely bored! No, Flip, I don’t +propose to let you find that way out just yet.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have found it for myself long ago if it were possible. As it +is, I have grown resigned, and accept what crumbs fall to my portion.” He +paused a moment and then asked, “Is it Goliath tonight?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rash woman; and just when I have advised you to run.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it is not in the least serious yet. I only asked you in view of it +becoming so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which means you will try and start to run, <i>after</i> you are firmly +in the trap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. I won’t go near the trap. I’ll tell him +I’m old enough to be his mother, and talk down to him from years of +detestable common sense and sagacity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which sounds as if it would be even duller than dining with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no. It holds novelty anyway. You are never dull, but likewise you are +no longer novel.” +</p> + +<p> +They made for the high roads again, and spun along mostly in silence until the +car once more came to a standstill at Lorraine’s door. +</p> + +<p> +“Come in,” she said, “I’ve lots of time.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” with a little smile. “I’ve had my crumbs for the +day. I’m going to have a good solid crust now to keep the balance. Do you +know Lottie Bird?… Fourteen stone, if she’s an ounce, and a tongue like a +sixty-horse-power motor. There are times when she’s so damned practical +and overpowering she does me good. This is one of them. Good-bye. Don’t +kill the giant with a glance; and don’t be silly enough to get hurt +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“All right. I’ll go in full armour,” and she nodded gaily +enough as he moved off down the street. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<p> +What Lorraine exactly meant by full armour she did not quite know, but it might +very well have been taken to mean the shining armour of her own best +loveliness. Certainly after no small consideration she chose what she believed +to be her most becoming gown, and she was unusually critical about the dressing +of her hair. +</p> + +<p> +All the same, at 7.45 she was ready, and her cavalier had not yet arrived. She +waited five minutes until he came, and then it was necessary to wait another +five minutes that he might not know she had been more up to time than he. Then +she entered the drawing-room in a little bit of a hurry, and cut short his +simple, direct apologies by regretting her own tardiness, and saying she had +been out motoring until late. +</p> + +<p> +But she had time to note quickly that he also had dressed himself with special +care, plastering down resolutely the unruly determination of his fair hair to +curl. That was good. Any suggestion of a curl must have produced an effect of +effeminacy, whereas that neat, plastered wave showed the shapeliness of his +head, and gave him a touch of manly decision. Her electric brougham was at the +door, but she kept it waiting a few minutes, that they might be later than the +majority of diners, and pass up a well-filled room. +</p> + +<p> +In the end their arrival was equal to her best expectations. She led the way +slowly, with a queenly grace that was one of her best attributes; but as she +nodded casually to an acquaintance here and there, she had plenty of time to +observe the curious eyes from all around, looking with undisguised admiration, +not so much at her faultless appearance, which was more or less known, but at +her striking cavalier. +</p> + +<p> +She had engaged a small table at one of the top corners and arranged the seats +sideways, so that both could look over the room if they wanted to, and at the +same time be easily seen by others. She did this because it amused her to see +people gazing at him, and to watch his quiet self-possession. She almost +wondered if he even realised how much attention he attracted, but perceived +that he could hardly help doing so, though he took it all with so simple and +unabashed an air. +</p> + +<p> +She watched also to see if, as most of the strikingly handsome men she had +known, he courted tell-tale glances from other eyes, and sipped honey from any +flower within reach, as well as from his own particular flower. And when she +found that his absolute and undivided attention was given to her, and that all +the power of entertaining he could muster was called into her service, she felt +a glow of gratitude to him that he had not disappointed her, but proved himself +the simple, high-bred gentleman she longed to find him. +</p> + +<p> +It made her show herself to him at her very best. Not showily witty, nor +callously gay, nor fashionably original, but just her own self of light humour +and dainty speech and kindly sympathy, the true, best self that held +Hal’s unswerving devotion through good account and ill. +</p> + +<p> +Unconsciously she left the time-worn paths of beauty and success, and became +young, and fresh, and whole-hearted as he; tackling abstruse problems with a +childlike, vigorous air; holding him spell-bound with her own charm of +conversation one moment, and leading him on to talk with ease and frankness the +next. +</p> + +<p> +The other diners got up and retired to the lounge, and still they sat on; no +hint of boredom, no note of disparity, no need of other companionship. As they +were preparing to rise, she told him lightly that he talked amazingly well for +his tender years. +</p> + +<p> +“Only twenty-four,” he answered; “it does seem a kiddish age, +doesn’t it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Dreadfully kiddish. It makes me feel old enough to be your +grandmother.” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced up, half-questioning, half-deprecating. +</p> + +<p> +“That would be the oddest thing of all, unless I really appear to be +about twenty years before my time.” +</p> + +<p> +For a reason she could not have fathomed, she looked into his eyes with a +sudden seriousness and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I was thirty-two last week.” +</p> + +<p> +She saw a quick look of surprise he did not attempt to hide, followed by a very +charming smile, as he asserted: +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible. You could not sit there and look like that if you were +thirty-two.” +</p> + +<p> +“The impossible is so often the true. I’m glad you don’t +think I seem old. It is nice to believe one can keep young at heart, in spite +of the years. Shall we go to the lounge?” +</p> + +<p> +Again they moved through the admiring crowd, but this time Lorraine felt less +idle interest and more inward wonder; and without any misgiving she steered to +a quiet alcove, where they could talk without again being the cynosure of many +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Here, in a pleasant, friendly way, she led him once again to talk of the +future, and was glad to find, in answering sincerity with sincerity, he was +ready to admit that he was a little sorry about his own lack of ambition and +want of application. He did not pretend now that it was of no moment. He told +her he would like to achieve, only somehow he always found his attention wander +to other things, and his desire grow slack after a week of rigid application. +</p> + +<p> +She recognised that the motive-power was missing, and that unless something +deeper than mere desire of achievement stirred him, he would probably never +attain. He needed a goal that should make everything else in the world pale +before it, and something that seemed almost as life and death to hang on his +success. But how get it for him? If he loved, and was bidden wait until he had +prospered, the end was all too sure and the love too easy. +</p> + +<p> +It was something different that was needed; something that would bring him up +with dead abruptness against a blank wall, and leave him with a taste of life +that was dust and ashes unless he found a way through. Either that or some +sweet, wild, unattainable desire, that might drive him to work and ambition by +way of escape. +</p> + +<p> +And there again, where should he encounter such a desire? One had only to look +into his calm, fine face to feel that the unattainable in the form of love, +barred by marriage vows as lightly made as broken, would never stir the depths +of his heart, nor appeal to his real self in any way whatever. +</p> + +<p> +He would not love such a woman, however for a time she might fascinate him; and +afterwards there would only be the nausea and the memory that was like an +unpleasant taste. Such a woman might teach him many things it is no harm for a +man to know; but she would never call to the best in him, nor help him to +realise himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen your friend the duchess lately?” she asked, with a +disarming smile, not wishing to appear merely curious. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I saw her on Friday, at a ball. She was in great form.” +</p> + +<p> +“You danced with her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. She’s not a good dancer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you only had one, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, three.” He smiled a little. “We sat out two.” +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to have felt highly honoured.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know. She is very amusing. A very funny thing happened +last week. Out of sheer devilry, she and a friend and two men went to the +Covent Garden Fancy Dress Ball, disguised of course, and just for an hour or +two. To their horror, after the procession, the friend was handed a large +glass-and-silver salad bowl, as a prize for being the best +‘twostep’ dancer in the room. Of course she had to go off with the +beastly thing; but she was so proud of winning it, she couldn’t resist +giving their escapade away, and it got round everywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if our escapade with Lady Bounce is out yet? I haven’t +seen Hal since Thursday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, it is,” eagerly; “the duchess had heard about it. +She was pumping me to know who was in the joke. We are longing to see Quin and +hear the latest, but he is down east.” +</p> + +<p> +“What an oddity he is!” thoughtfully. “I liked him so much: +but it is difficult to reconcile him with slumming.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s one of the best. Every one loves him. And he does his +slumming in quite a way of his own. I’ve been with him sometimes, and he +just goes among the rough characters down there as if he hated being a swell +and wanted to be one of them. He positively asks them for sympathy, and of +course it takes their fancy and he is friends with them all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you are a remarkable trio altogether. Hal’s cousin Dick is +just as original in his way as St. Quintin. And you, of course, are somehow +different to the majority. I wonder how you will each end? St. Quintin will +perhaps become a bishop. Dick Bruce will write an astounding, weird novel, and +bound into fame. And you? …” +</p> + +<p> +He flushed a little. “I shall be left far behind by both of them, +futilely wishing to catch up.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope not. Your chance is just as good as theirs, if you choose to make +it so,” +</p> + +<p> +“I fail to see that I have any chance at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most chances rest chiefly with ourselves. It’s a great thing to be +ready for them if they come. I hope you’ll be that.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so too, but it would be easier if one were more sure they were +coming,” and he laughed with a lightness that jarred a little. +</p> + +<p> +She rose to go, as it was getting late, feeling slightly disappointed in some +vague way; and when they parted she noticed that his handshake was slightly +limp, as of one who would not grasp life tightly enough to compel it to +surrender its good things to him. +</p> + +<p> +But in her own sanctum she rallied herself, and hardened her heart, asking what +had it to do with her after all, and how could his success or non-success in +any way concern her. +</p> + +<p> +Doubtless in the end he would share the fate of the great majority and attain +only mediocrity; having missed that one great blinding shaft of pain or joy +that might have stabbed him into tense, pulsing life, and spurred him up the +heights of fame and glory. +</p> + +<p> +She let her evening-cloak slide to a chair, turning to glance at a calling card +on the table, with a renewal of the old, callous, cynical air. The practical +force of Flip Denton’s conversation was making itself felt. Of course it +was an absurdity for her to imagine herself in love with a youth of +twenty-four—almost the dullest of all ages—be he never so good to +look at. She might very well keep a motherly eye on him, and show him a side of +life he might perhaps not see otherwise, but it must end there. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt a certain novelty had made the evening unusually pleasant: after two +or three more they would certainly pall, and then she would go back to her old +chums; the men of the world who had paid their footing and won their +experience, and come through, careless enough devils at best in their own +phraseology, but non the worse for a fall or two, and a win or two, and a +self-taught hardihood for most things life was likely any more to send. +</p> + +<p> +She smiled a little as she remembered how calmly he had thanked her and said +good-night. Of a surety he took his fruits quietly and unconcernedly enough. +She wondered if he were secretly in love with some pink-and-white débutante, +who flushed and smiled when he spoke, and gazed up at him with fond, adoring +eyes. It was likely enough. +</p> + +<p> +No doubt he would tell her all about it soon, as a very young man tells a +favourite sister, or a jolly, not too elderly aunt. She rather hoped he would. +It would be an anti-climax humorous enough to cure her all in a moment of +seeming anything to him other than that jolly, not too elderly aunt. Then she +would invite Flip to dinner, and they would be gay together—she could +imagine the tone in which he would call her “aunty”—and her +folly would fall from her like an outgrown chrysalis, leaving her sane, and +cynical, and wordly, and whole again. +</p> + +<p> +The train of thought pleased her, and soothed in some way an indefinable +rasping sense of the general futility of all feeling and all striving. Surely +she, with her young-old heart, her world-worn memories, and her youth that +never was, should know that worldly-wise dictum full well. +</p> + +<p> +Of course she kew it. +</p> + +<p> +The things that mattered were beauty and brilliance and success; and these she +had in good measure, brimming over. Her mood made her cross suddenly to the +many-sided mirror, and switch on a blaze of light that would brook no feigning. +</p> + +<p> +In its searching gleams she looked at herself with clear, fearless eyes. Yes; +it was all there still, untouched and unimpaired by those thirty-two years: the +colouring, the skin, the rounded, supple figure—all the things for which +men loved her and the world gave her fame. +</p> + +<p> +She gave herself a little mocking salute, and then turned away to hurry into +her pretty, cosy bed. +</p> + +<p> +But what the blaze of light had not seen the mothering darkness hid tenderly. +Two bright tear-drops, filling tired eyes that had tried so often to fool +themselves into blind and callous content. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<p> +“Dick Bruce will write an astounding, weird novel, and bound into +fame,” Lorraine had remarked to her companion, and away somewhere down in +Kent, an hour or so earlier, Dick had remarked to Hal as they spun along: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got the maddest idea for a novel you ever heard of. I’m +going to make the hit of next season.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope it’s not about babies,” said Hal, thinking of his +doggerel. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it is—babies and vegetables.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nonsense. You can’t make a novel out of babies and +vegetables.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see if I can’t. The vegetables are all to be endowed with +life, and of course the scene of my tale will be the vegetable kingdom.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where do the babies come in?” +</p> + +<p> +“The babies will represent mankind.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never heard such rot. Why should mankind be represented by babies? +Much better let them be represented by green peas or gooseberries.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. Mankind can only properly be represented by babies; mankind +being in its infancy.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it isn’t. It’s much older than vegetables.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not. Man was made last, and instead of developing into a +reasonable, rational object, like a potato or a cabbage, he has strayed away +into all manner of wild side-issues, and is still nothing but a very much +perplexed infant.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you propose to try and help him to emulate the reasonable, +rational condition of the potato and cabbage?” +</p> + +<p> +“I propose to show him his inferiority to these delectable +creations.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then if he has any sense he will just duck you in the Serpentine and +make you apologise. Personally I consider myself anything but a baby, and far +superior to any of the cabbage tribe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!...” he cried gleefully. “You are actually proving my +theory. I can’t explain now, but just wait till that book is +written.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you taking rooms at Colney Hatch while you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have thought about it. You show more understanding in that remark than +in any of the others.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t require much effort of understanding to think that out. +Is the onion or the mangel-wurzel to be your hero?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are unsympathetic. I shall not tell you any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. I am most interested really. I should make the cabbage your +hero, and the onion your heroïne, then she can weep on his breast.” +They swerved violently, and with a little gasp she added, “All the same, +I’ve no desire to weep on the highway underneath a motor-car. What +<i>are</i> you doing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. The steering-wheel seems a bit odd.” +</p> + +<p> +They stopped to examine the wheel, and almost immediately, out of the gathering +darkness behind shot another car, hooting violently to them to get out of the +way. Unable to stop the oncoming car in time, Dick tried to move aside, failed, +and in less than a minute the newcomer, in spite of brakes swiftly adjusted, +crashed into them, smashing their lamp, and badly damaging the back near-side +wheel of the car. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m blowed!” said Dick, “that’s the only +moment in the whole day you shouldn’t have been on that particular square +yard of the entire globe. Any other moment, I could either have moved aside or +stopped you in time.” +</p> + +<p> +The occupant of the other car, who was driving alone, sprang out and came +briskly forward. +</p> + +<p> +“What the devil!...” he began, then noticed the lady, and stopped +short. +</p> + +<p> +“It was certainly the devil,” said Dick, ruefully examining his +battered wheel, and “I always thought he was credited with the deceny to +look after his own. How have you fared?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he seems to have looked after me all right,” in a cheery +voice; “there’s nothing that will prevent my going on to town. But +if you will pardon my curiosity, why take root in the middle of the road and +ask for trouble?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s smile suddenly flashed out in the lamp-light irresistibly. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a new theory about vegetables being wiser than mankind, but +of course we took root too soon.” +</p> + +<p> +A pair of grey eyes looked quizzically at her in the darkness, discerning only +the gleam of a white face in a close-fitting bonnet, and the flash of white, +even teeth. +</p> + +<p> +“The blasted steering wheel wouldn’t act,” said Dick. +“We had just that second slowed down to examine it. You might have come +along here to all eternity and not have been as inopportune.” +</p> + +<p> +“You take it very well.” The big-coated apparition, in motor-cap +with the ear-flaps down, and motor-goggles, and the suggestion of a rotundity +about the centre, was not at all engaging to look at, but he had a charming +voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m taking it so ill that I daren’t express myself out +loud,” said Hal. “What in the world are we to do? Is there a train +anywhere near?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid not, but there is a decent enough inn close by.” +</p> + +<p> +“An inn isn’t much use to me.” She paused, then added +solemnly: “I’ve got a strait-laced brother.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s voice was rather deep and rich for a woman, and it had a dangerous +allurement in the darkness. The stranger took off his goggles and tried again +to see her face, while Dick took a minute stock of his damage. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he suggested, a little daringly, “if he is able to +chaperone you at the inn himself?—” +</p> + +<p> +“He isn’t,” said Hal; “he’s somewhere east of +Piccadilly, studying Phœnician Architecture, and the herringbone pattern on +antique masonry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, damn!” intercepted Dick, “the old man has let me down +badly this time; this car won’t move before daybreak. It means a red +light burning all night, and we must go to the inn.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Dick,” Hal exclaimed in quick alarm. “How can I let +Dudley know? He’ll have a fit at the idea of my being out all night like +that.” +</p> + +<p> +“He ought to be too thankful you are safe and sound to mind anything +else.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he won’t; because he is always grumbling at my not getting +back before dark. There must surely be a train from somewhere?” +</p> + +<p> +Her voice had grown seriously alarmed as she began to realise what sort of a +fix she was in. The stranger came forward to lend his aid to the inspection, +and after a cursory glance added his verdict to Dick’s. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t move her before morning; and there are no trains +anywhere near here on Sunday night. I am going to London myself; you must let +me give you both a lift.” +</p> + +<p> +Dick stood up with an air of finality. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t leave her. She isn’t exactly all my own, you see. I +must stay at the inn, but if you wouldn’t mind taking Miss +Pritchard—” he looked at Hal a little anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall be delighted,” came the brisk response from the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +Hal for once was nonplussed, but her habitual humour reasserted itself. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know which Dudley will think the most dreadful,” she +remarked comically, “for me to stay at the inn unchaperoned, or motor +back with a stranger. I seem to be fairly between the devil and the deep +sea.” +</p> + +<p> +The men laughed, but Dick made the decision. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better go back,” he said. “He will at least have you +safe under lock and key by midnight that way and not lie awake worrying all +night himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then let me run you to the inn first,” said the stranger, and +after fixing his red lights, Dick went off with them in search of help to make +the car safer for the night. +</p> + +<p> +A little later the stranger’s motor turned Londonwards with two occupants +only, one in front and one behind. After a few miles he stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t you come and sit in front? It seems so unsociable to travel +like this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most unsociable,” said Hal, “but it would please Brother +Dudley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind Brother Dudley now.” The voice was very attractive. +“Mind me, instead. I’m very dull here, and I hate driving in the +dark. My chauffeur is down with the ‘flu’, and I couldn’t +beg, borrow, nor steal any one else’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you a doctor?” she asked, taking her seat beside him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you think I should be a doctor?” tucking a warm rug cosily +round her, in a leisurely fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“Only because I thought perhaps you were obliged to go, in spite of your +chauffeur being ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was obliged to go, but I’m not a doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +They started forward again, but the pace was noticeably slower. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you don’t mind going slowly, it is so difficult to steer in +te dark?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was perfectly aware he had not found it so difficult before, but she only +said lightly: +</p> + +<p> +“Anything to keep safe from another mishap. I might have to walk home +next time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or stay at an inn with me!...” with an amused laugh. “What +would Brother Dudley do then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have brain fever first, I expect, then creeping paralysis, then sleeping +sickness.” +</p> + +<p> +He chuckled with enjoyment, and presently remarked: “I don’t think +you treat Dudley respectfully enough if he is an affectionate elder +brother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes I do. I sort of leaven the lump. Without me he’d be just a +clever prig; he couldn’t help it. With me he is only better than most +men; and his lofty ideas don’t get top-heavy, because I keep him in touch +with commonplace humanity.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why is he better than most men? What is the matter with the rest of +us?” +</p> + +<p> +“The rest of you don’t bother to have lofty ideas at all, much less +struggle to live up to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are a little sweeping. Do you like men to have lofty ideas, and be +priggish?” +</p> + +<p> +“They don’t necessarily go together. It’s only Dudley who +thinks all the rest of the world ought to be good too.” +</p> + +<p> +“And don’t you agree with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I look at things from a different standpoint. I admire him tremendously, +and feel his superiority; but it is more natural to me to take things as I find +them and make the best of them as they are.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are evidently a very sensible young lady. You can find a warm spot +in your heart even for a sinner, for instance!” +</p> + +<p> +“I rather like them,” and she gave a low laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you do, if you’re a true woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m a true woman right enough. I like a man to have a spice of +the devil in him; and I like playing with fire; and I love getting into +mischief.” +</p> + +<p> +“Capital!... you and I must be friends. I’m beginning to think it +was a lucky mishap for me at all events.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t finished my qualifications yet. You may change your +mind. I like all those sort of things, but at the same time I like the big +things as well. Also I’m told I’m most annoyingly practical, and +most irritatingly capable of taking care of myself, and never getting burnt, so +to speak.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who told you that?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think it was some one at the office.” +</p> + +<p> +“What office?” +</p> + +<p> +She mentioned the name of one of the leading London papers. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you’re a working young lady, are you?” He asked the +question with a new note in his voice, though it would have been difficult to +tell just how the information struck him. +</p> + +<p> +Hal gave another laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“A working young lady! How awful! I shall not be friends with you if you +call me anything so dreadful as that.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you call it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I think I like ‘Breadwinner’ best, as that is what I +do it for—but I don’t mind working woman.” +</p> + +<p> +The stranger looked hard into the darkness a few moments, then he asked +suddenly, sitll with the new note in his voice: +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose you want the vote?” +</p> + +<p> +Mentally he was wondering whether, if she knew who he was, she would attack him +physically or insist upon writing in chalk all over his car. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want it for myself, because I shouldn’t know what to +do with it, and I haven’t much time to find out. But I want fair play for +women-workers generally, and if that is the only way to get it, I hope it will +come quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by fair play?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just whatever is fair play. I don’t think women ought to be making +iron chains at Cradley Heath for a penny a yard, for instance, and that sort of +thing. I think it is a slur on the men who govern the country that it is +possible. If you were one of them, and drove about in this beautiful car, not +caring twopence whether starving women were sweated or not, I +should—” she hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what should you—” +</p> + +<p> +Detecting the mysterious note in his voice, she added with mischievous, +half-serious intent: +</p> + +<p> +“I should want to scratch you, and bite you, and push you into the first +available ditch, for a poor coward, who was afraid to take care of the +interests of woman, in case she got too well able in the end to take care of +herself—so there.” +</p> + +<p> +He could not help laughing, and when he subsided she added: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you suppose it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind. Are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“You promise you won’t scratch me and bite me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give you a sporting chance to run away.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not very likely to run away from you, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +They had reached the well-lit roads now, and he turned and looked keenly into +her face, partly to see if by chance he might recognise her, and partly to get +a cleaner idea of her appearance. +</p> + +<p> +“You look too nice to be a suffragette,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Such rot! Do I look too nice to care whether working women and outcast +women are fairly treated or not?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s only the bluff of the movement. What they really want is +power and notoriety.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal tossed her head. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a positive worm,” she told him frankly. +</p> + +<p> +Again his engaging laugh rang out. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a nice thing to say to a man who has brought you all the +way from Millington to London, and helped you out of a tight corner.” +</p> + +<p> +The white teeth gleamed suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll qualify it if you like, and call you a cross between a worm +and a brick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not good enough. I won’t pass the worm at all. If you don’t +retract it wholly I shall put you down at the first tram, and let you get back +to Bloomsbury on your own.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll retract, if you’ll tell me who you are.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you afterwards.” +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you are going to Downing Street even now, to plan a crushing +blow to the Cause.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am going to Downing Street, but it has nothing to do with the Cause, +as you call it.” +</p> + +<p> +It was her turn to glance round, but she only saw that he was clean-shaven, and +somewhat lined. His grey, quizzical eyes met hers full of humour. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder who we both are?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“I can easily tell you who I am, as I’m so comfortably of no +account. My name is Harriet Pritchard, and my friends call me Hal. I live with +Brother Dudley, who is an architect; and if the world isn’t any the +better for me, I hope it is sometimes a little gayer, that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“And are you engaged to the young man whose steering gear went +wrong?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I am not engaged to any one at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very nearly perhaps?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; not even within sight of it. Being engaged, and always having to go +out with the same pal, would bore me to tears.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see.” There was a note of satisfaction in his voice. In the +brighter lights he had observed that the warm ulster clung to a very shapely +figure, and covered a pair of fine shoulders, and even if she was not pretty, +for he could not be quite sure on the point, she was certainly very attractive, +and had a delightfully engaging smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder if there is room for another in the ranks.” +</p> + +<p> +Something a little condescending in the way he made the suggestion nettled Hal. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you a rather old?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +Again his ready laugh rang out. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll give frankness for frankness. I am forty-eight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Goodness!… and I am twenty-five.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all? Then allow me to say you are a remarkably clever young +woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“A good many breadwinners are; they have to be. Some of them are too +clever even for Cabinet Ministers,” and she chuckled joyfully. +</p> + +<p> +In the darkness, she did not see the quick gleam in his eyes, as he retorted: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think many Cabinet Ministers have the luck to meet a +breadwinner who is as attractive as she is clever.” +</p> + +<p> +“And if they did,” sarcastically, “I suppose they would drop +the notoriety yarn and find time to consider whether the working woman is +treated fairly or not. The weakness in her defence at present seems solely that +not enough pretty women make up her defenders. Bah! You all ought to have +kittens to play with, and nanny goats and woolly lambs.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know why you include me. What have I done?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you’re going to Downing Street?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why shouldn’t I be going to a dinner-party?” +</p> + +<p> +She turned and glanced up with a daredevil light in her eyes that delighted +him. +</p> + +<p> +“I not only think you a member of Parliament, but, judging by your +fatuous air of superiority, I should imagine you are positively a full-blown +Cabinet Minister.” +</p> + +<p> +He busied himself with his steering wheel, while little chuckles of enjoyment +came out of his muffler. +</p> + +<p> +“And supposing I were?” he said at last. +</p> + +<p> +“Goodness!… I hope you’re not?…” in quick alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you hope so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know, except that I’ve never known a Cabinet +Minister in my life, and I never expected, if I met one, to treat him like… +like—” +</p> + +<p> +“An old and fatuous lump of superiority!” with a gay laugh. +“Well, little woman, you needn’t be in the least sorry. I +don’t know that I’ve ever enjoyed a motor ride more. When will you +come again?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Are</i> you a Cabinet Minister?…” she asked helplessly. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I hope you won’t disapprove, for I have to plead guilty to +being Sir Edwin Crathie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edwin Crathie?” in abashed tones. +</p> + +<p> +“They called me Squib at school.” He said it in a whimsical, +humorous voice, looking down at her with very friendly eyes. +</p> + +<p> +But Hal had grown silent. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid by your manner you do disapprove?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is certainly embarrassing. I would rather you had been… well, just +any one.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll get used to it,” still with the twinkle in his eyes. +“In the meantime you haven’t answered my question. When will you +come for another ride?” +</p> + +<p> +She did not reply, and he leaned a little closer. +</p> + +<p> +“You will come again?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid Brother Dudley wouldn’t like it”; and then +they both laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you come in?” as they drew up before her door. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I haven’t time; and besides, I’m a little +afraid of Brother Dudley. I only feel equal to the Prime Minister this +evening.” +</p> + +<p> +She held out her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, thank you ever so much. You saved me from a dreadfully tight +corner.” +</p> + +<p> +“The thanks should be all mine; you saved me from unmitigated boredom. I +cursed my chauffeur for going down with ‘flu’ today, but now I +feel ready to raise his salary for it.” +</p> + +<p> +He had pulled of his thick motoring-glove, and was holding her hand in a firm, +lingering clasp, which she quickly cut short, tucking both her hands into her +ulster pockets, and standing up very straight and slim in the lamplight. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll have to go though the confessional now,” she told him, +“and sit on the stool of repentance for supper.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; don’t repent; come again.” He moved nearer. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m naturally a very busy man, and I can’t make engagements +offhand, but I can easily get at you on the telephone. Will you come some +afternoon, about half-past four?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you are very rash. How do you know I shall not bring the +colours, and wave them wildly down the street, shouting ‘Votes for +Women’?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll risk it. Will you come?” +</p> + +<p> +She moved away, latch-key in hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I won’t promise, anyway. Good-bye, and my best +thanks.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a rush of light through an open door, a last bright smile, and he +found himself alone in the street. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<p> +When Hal entered the sitting-room and met Dudley’s eyes she felt, as she +afterwards described it to Lorraine, that she was in for it. Yet it was not so +very late, barely half-past nine. On the table her supper was still waiting for +her. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve had a slight accident,” she said, taking the bully by +the horns; “something went wrong with the steering gear, and it delayed +us. Have you had supper?” noticing the table was still laid for two. +</p> + +<p> +“I always have supper at eight on Sundays, because Mrs. White has to +clear it away herself, as you know. Isn’t Dick coming in?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. He’s—” Hall stopped short, considering the +advantages of prevarication. +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to see him,” testily. “He said he would give me a +particular address tonight. Why is he in such a hurry?” +</p> + +<p> +“It wasn’t Dick who brought me.” +</p> + +<p> +She took off her motor-bonnet and threw it on the sofa, running her hands +through her bright hair, and rubbing her cheeks, which were a little cold. +</p> + +<p> +“Not Dick?...” Dudley looked up from his book peremptorily. +“Who did bring you?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal took her seat at the table. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you see, we had a slight accident. We had just stopped to examine +the steering gear, when another car came round a curve and crashed into us. +Dick’s car was damaged, and...” she reached across for the salad, +and helped herself with as unconcerned an air as she could muster... +“Oh!... onions!... how scrumptious!... Mrs. White always remembers my +plebeian tastes, but not my patrician ones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well!” he suggested coldly. “Dick’s car was damaged, +and—” +</p> + +<p> +“Dick had to stay and nurse it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then did you come home by train?” +</p> + +<p> +“There was no train. There was nothing else.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing else than what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing but the car that run into us, or going to an inn for the night +with Dick. I was afraid you wouldn’t like that,” with a mischievous +gleam. +</p> + +<p> +“My likes and dislikes are not, apparently, of the smallest moment to +you, or you would not have been motoring late on Sunday at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dick can’t go other days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who was in this other car?” +</p> + +<p> +“A man.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he glanced up quickly. +</p> + +<p> +“Any one else?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. His chauffeur is down with ‘flu’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it some one you knew, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. He told me on the way in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I to gather that you returned to London alone, in a motor-car, with a +perfect stranger?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid you are.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t Dick come with you? Surely if he takes you out for the +day he might at least see you safely home. I never heard of such proceedings in +my life. The man might have been a positive blackguard. Had you any idea who he +was?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, none; but what’s the use of making a fuss! It’s all +right now, and I’m safely at home; which is surely better than being in +some weird village all night, and you wondering what on earth had become of +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is not the question. It’s the whole circumstance from +beginning to end. I consider Dick’s behaviour most reprehensible.” +</p> + +<p> +“He couldn’t leave his car alone there in the middle of a Kentish +high road. He had to stay somewhere near.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think he should have considered you of more importance than the car. +To let you return alone, at that hour, with a perfect stranger, is the most +unheard of proceeding. I shall certainly tell Dick what I think of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“It wasn’t Dick’s fault,” loyally. “I just took +the matter into my own hands and came. Dick had nothing to do with it. In fact, +I insisted upon his remaining behind.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, of course you would. You only seem to be happy when you are flying +in the face of some convention or other. But Dick is older than you, and he +knows my views on these matters. He owed it to me to see you safely +home.” +</p> + +<p> +“But since I am safely home!...” obstinately. +</p> + +<p> +“You very well might not have been. What the stranger himself must think +of you I don’t know. Have you any idea who he was?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Sir Edwin Crathie?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edwin Crathie! Do you mean the Cabinet Minister?” +</p> + +<p> +“So he said.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you tell him who you were?” +</p> + +<p> +Again there was a gleam under the lowered lashes. +</p> + +<p> +“I did; but I can’t say he either recognised our historie name or +seemed much impressed. I really don’t believe he had ever heard of +me.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley refused to smile. Instead the frown deepened on his face. +</p> + +<p> +“That is probably just as well. Your actions of late cannot be said to be +entirely to your credit. What is this tale about Thursday night? I met St. +Quintin’s father with Uncle Bruce this morning in the Park. You told me +Quin’s aunt was going to chaperone you. Did she or did she not?” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you Lady Bounce was going to chaperone me. Lady Bounce <i>did</i> +chaperone me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is Lady Bounce Quin’s aunt?” +</p> + +<p> +“That depends.” Hal pushed away her chair, wishing vaguely that +fathers and uncles would mind their own business. Either incident alone she +could have coped with, but it was a distinct imposition to expect her to manage +both at once, and on Sunday night into the bargain. +</p> + +<p> +“I can only presume you lent yourself to such a vulgar proceeding as Quin +dressing up as a woman and acting chaperone. Is that the truth?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not entirely. You see, he wasn’t an ordinary woman. He went as his +aunt, Lady Phyllis Fenton. His personification was a masterpiece.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley began to pace the room. His thin lips were compressed into a straight +line, and his whole air distincly worried. +</p> + +<p> +“What you seem quite unable to perceive is the way in which these +incidents reflect upon your good taste and upon my guardianship.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal grew suddenly nettled. +</p> + +<p> +“It is nonsense to talk of guardianship now. I am twenty-five, and I earn +my own living. I am perfectly well able to take care of myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; that is just what you are not. You are so rash and +inconsequent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, anyhow I get a good deal out of my life, while you—” +</p> + +<p> +He remembered his own Thursday evening and intercepted: +</p> + +<p> +“It is possible to get a great deal out of life without outraging every +convention. Do you imagine either Ethel or Doris Hayward would do the wild +things you do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ethel Hayward is a brick. She couldn’t be straitlaced anyhow, nor +narrow-minded. Doris would do anything under the sun that suited her own +ends.” +</p> + +<p> +She got up, and turned away without perceiving his frown, beginning to gather +up her paraphernalia. He stopped short in his walk. +</p> + +<p> +“If it really was Sir Edwin Crathie who brought you home, I must write +and thank him, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shouldn’t bother; probably it wasn’t him at all; only some +third-rate actor.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley tried to see her face, not sure if she was serious or not, but she kept +her head averted as she added: +</p> + +<p> +“Quite possibly it was Lord Bounce.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are always treating a serious subject with levity,” he +complained. “What am I to think? Do you or do you not believe your escort +was Sir Edwin Crathie?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as he was awfully afraid I might be a militant suffragette, I +think he really was a Cabinet Minister.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you entirely undeceived him on that score,” drily. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. I told him I was tingling to scratch him and bite +him,” and the ghost of a smile crossed her lips. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley relapsed into silent displeasure, and for a few moments neither spoke. +Then Hal, with her garments on her arm, came round to him with a frank, +affectionate air. +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley, don’t make mountains out of molehills over nothing. I know +I am a little wild. I can’t help it—we seem to have got mixed up +somehow. You’ve got all the decorum and nice, refined feelings of a +charming woman, and I’ve got the enterprise and +‘don’t-care’ spirit of a man. It isn’t any use fighting +against facts. You must take me as I am, and make the best of it. I can’t +change now; and I don’t know that I would if I could.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose you would. You positively glory in the very traits +that I deplore”; but his voice sounded mollified. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh well, old man, you wouldn’t like me to be helpless, and +foolish, and woolly-lambified, would you? It wouldn’t be half so +interesting. Just fancy if you had a sister like Doris Hayward, can you imagine +anything tamer?” +</p> + +<p> +He stiffened again, but she did not notice it. +</p> + +<p> +“As for Thursday night, you never ought to have heard about it, and you +never would have done if Uncle Bruce had not been such an old telltale. Just +wait till I get him alone; that’s all. Anyhow, he didn’t think it a +heinous crime did he? I expect he gave a great laugh that startled every one +within hearing.” +</p> + +<p> +As that was exactly what had happened, Dudley made no comment. +</p> + +<p> +“And Sir Edwin Crathie would only have thought me a fool if I had been +afraid to come back with him. These things will happen occasionally. They are +not worth worrying about. You are too anxious over trifles, Dudley.” She +moved away towards the door. “Well, good-night, don’t forget to +return thanks that anyhow I am not in a hospital, generally smashed up.” +</p> + +<p> +She left him, and retired to bed, feeling a little depressed. Of course he had +not forgiven her, nor would he see things from her point of view. She almost +wished he did not mind; but all her life she had had an affection that was +almost adoration for her one brother, and it always depressed her to displease +him, however indifferent she might seem. +</p> + +<p> +She awoke next morning with the sense of depression still lingering, and set +off for the City in far from her usual spirits. The office seemed dingy and +dull, and the routine wearisome. It felt like ages and ages since she had +driven home through the darkness in Sir Edwin’s beautiful car. She +wondered if it was real at all; only what else should make all the old friends +at the office appear so uninteresting and commonplace. +</p> + +<p> +She speculated a little forlornly as to whether she would ever be likely to see +him again, and decided it was most unlikely, and that probably he had already +forgotten the whole incident. +</p> + +<p> +And just when she had reached that point in her meditations, the telephone boy +came to tell her some one was asking for her. She asked him dispiritedly who it +was, and he replied that the gentleman had declined to give a name. +</p> + +<p> +Hal shut herself into the case, took down the receiver, and, still +dispiritedly, asked: “Hullo! Are you there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that Miss Pritchard?” asked a voice that made her pulses +hasten. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes? Who is that?” +</p> + +<p> +“The mere worm,” came back the cheery answer. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter? You sound somewhat funereal. Was Brother Dudley +very angry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Terrible. I am still recovering. He seemed to have grave doubts as to +whether you really were the eminent person you professed to be!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he did, did he? And what did you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“That it was quite possible you were only a third-rate actor all the +time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks. I shall not grow vain on your compliments. Have you any grave +doubts yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t mind either way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks again. Well, I am speaking to you from my own private sanctum at +the House of Commons; and if you want to make sure, you can take my number, and +ring up the Exchange and inquire.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take your word for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good girl. You don’t sound quite so obstreperous as you were last +night. What’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only Mondayfied. The office is always boring on a +Monday.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry I can’t suggest a spin this afternoon, but +I’m too much engaged until Wednesday. Will you come on Wednesday? +Well?” as Hal, appeared to be meditating. +</p> + +<p> +“Where do you propose going?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Anywhere you like. I’d better not fetch you from the office +though. I’ll pick you up just casually in St. Jame’s Park. Will you +be there at five, near the Archway?” +</p> + +<p> +“All right, if I can get away. How shall I let you know if I change my +mind?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t do anything so childish. The run will do you good after a +stuffy office. I’ll be there to the minute. Good-bye,” and he rang +off without waiting for a reply. +</p> + +<p> +Hal went back to her work, with a pleasurable sensation that instead of grey +stuffiness there was joyful sunshine. She had never imagined for a moment he +would actually carry out his suggestion of a meeting; and here they were with +an actual appointment. +</p> + +<p> +It was so odd, too, that they had not properly seen each other yet; only having +met in the light of street lamps; and she fell to wondering eagerly what he was +like in broad daylight. A voice whispered, “Perhaps you won’t like +him at all, and will wish you had not gone”; but her love of adventure +easily silenced it, and she looked forward to her outing without any +misgivings. +</p> + +<p> +Once she thought she would go an tell Lorraine about it first, but later +decided it would be more enjoyable to do so afterwards, and kept her own +counsel; which perhaps was not entirely wise, seeing how much more cause +Lorraine had to know the world than she had. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<p> +Sir Edwin Crathie had come to the front very rapidly under the auspices of the +Liberal Government. Without having any special worth, he was sufficiently +brilliant and unscrupulous to brush obstacles aside without compunction, and +assert himself in a manner that impressed his hearers with the notion that he +was very clever, very thorough, and very reliable. +</p> + +<p> +Those who knew him superficially believed him extra-ordinarily clever. Those +who knew him intimately sometimes shrugged their shoulders. He was possessed +undoubtedly of a certain flashy sort of cleverness, but some of his greatest +skill existed in imposing it upon others as strength and insight. +</p> + +<p> +As may be imagined, such a man was not much troubled with principles. If a step +was likely to help him forward with his ambitions, he took it without +considering the moral aspect. If no help was likely to follow, he only took it +if it happened to please his fancy. To say that he had climbed by women was to +put it mildly. +</p> + +<p> +Many of his steps he had taken on women’s hearts, trampling them +mercilessly in the process. And since he was admittedly unscrupulous, it was +not surprising, for he was possessed not only of an attractive appearance, but +of great personal magnetism when he chose to exert it. +</p> + +<p> +He was a bachelor because so far he had considered the single state best +forwarded his aims, but a growing and imperative need for money was now causing +him to look round among the richest heiresses for some one to pay his debts in +consideration of being made Lady Crathie. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime Hal’s independent spirit and freshness suggested an +entertaining interlude; and as she attracted him more strongly than any woman +had done of late, he decided to follow up their chance friendship just for the +amusement of it. +</p> + +<p> +In consequence, he felt quite boyishly eager for the hours to pass on +Wednesday, and when at last it was time to start, dismissed his chauffeur with +a curt sentence, and started off alone. The chauffeur, it may be mentioned, +merely glanced after him, and with a shrug of his shoulders wondered +“what the master was up to now.” +</p> + +<p> +When Sir Edwin reached the meeting-place he was not particularly surprised to +find no signs of Hal. He believed she would come; but evidently she liked being +perverse, and would purposely keep him waiting. He ran the car slowly back +again, scanning each pedestrian ahead with a certain anxious eagerness, +wondering how he would like her in broad daylight. +</p> + +<p> +On returning to the Archway, and still finding no one waiting, he alighted with +a pretence of examining some part of the car, and looked back over the paths +leading down from Piccadilly. +</p> + +<p> +And something in his mental regions felt rather foolishly glad when he +recognised her afar off. +</p> + +<p> +He had never seen her walk, but his instinct told him Hal would move with just +the graceful, swinging stride of the tall, slim figure coming towards him, and +carry her head and shoulders with just such a dauntless, grenadier attitude. +</p> + +<p> +He found himself standing quite still, with his hands deep in his overcoat +pockets, watching her. Her costume, too, pleased his fastidious taste. Of +course a first-class tailor had cut a coat and skirt with a fit and hang like +that; and the small hat, if it had nothing Parisian about it, anyhow suited the +wearer and dress to perfection. +</p> + +<p> +He noted with quiet pleasure that she showed no signs of embarrassment when she +met his watching gaze, merely crossing the road with the same jaunty, upright +walk, and a gleam of fun in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo!” was her greeting. “Hope I haven’t kept you +waiting. I’ve had a busy afternoon helping my chief to give you and The +Right Honourable Hayes Matheson a good slanging.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you have, have you?” +</p> + +<p> +The grey eyes were growing more and more approving, as he noted each detail +most likely to appeal to a man who had made a study of women for many years. +The shapely little ears with the glossy hair curling round them, the full, +rounded throat, the determined little chin, the frank, fearless eyes. +</p> + +<p> +He still hardly knew whether she was pretty or not, but he discerned wery +quickly that she was amply blessed with that rare gift of personality and +humour that is so much more durable than a pretty face. +</p> + +<p> +Hal, for her part, was no less interested in him, but she found little else +than that she had already seen: humorous, quizzical grey eyes, a face a good +deal lined, and a mouth and chin suggesting a nature fond of enjoyment and +self-indulgence, which it had never seen any cause to deny itself. She saw that +he was very grey about the temples, and a trifle inclined to stoutness, but +tall enough and broad enough to carry it off. +</p> + +<p> +A fine figure of a man, though one, she felt instinctively, belonging to a very +different world to hers. Because she felt his careful scrutiny, and because she +wanted to assert her indifference to it, she remarked suddenly, after a moment: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, how do you like me by daylight?” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you like me?” he retorted, and laughed. +</p> + +<p> +She shook her head, and her eyes grew mischievous. +</p> + +<p> +“Old,” she said; “quite old and grey.” +</p> + +<p> +“Old be damned! Forty-eight is the prime of life.” +</p> + +<p> +She was taking her seat, and gave a low chuckle of enjoyment at having drawn +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you may laugh now,” he said, “but I’ll soon show +you forty-eight is far more attractive than twenty-eight. Where shall we +go?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t mind in the least, but I should prefer to steer for tea +and buns.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tea and buns!… how like a woman!… How can you expect to get the vote on +tea and buns?” +</p> + +<p> +They were spinning along the Broughton Road now, heading for Putney and +Richmond, and Hal felt her spirits rising momentarily with the joy of the +motion and comfort and fresh air. +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t expect to get in on tea and buns; we expect to get it on +whisky and beer. That is to say, we expect the course of events to prove that +tea and buns conduce to a frame of mind better able to cope with the questions +of the day than the whisky and beer drained in such quantities by men.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when you’ve got it you’ll all vote for the man who +happens to be good-looking, and who can pay you the prettiest +compliments.” +</p> + +<p> +“A few will vote that way, no doubt, but not the majority. Women are not +so fond of pretty men as they were”; and her lips curled significantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty men!…” he echoed, with enjoyment. +</p> + +<p> +“Little woman, you have a neat way of putting things.” +</p> + +<p> +He was silent a few minutes, then added: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose, down at that office they are all in love with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I haven’t asked them,” with twinkling +eyes. “I’m a bit in love with the chief myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, your are, are you? And what aged man might he be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he’s quite old,” she laughed; “somewhere about +forty-eight.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is he in love with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“It just depends. Sometimes he’s rather fond of me on a Saturday; +but on Mondays he loathes me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. And are you as changeable?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I love him always; but on Mondays it’s mostly from habit. On +Saturdays it’s from choice.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked down at her, and it was on the tip of his tongue to state some +commonplace about being jealous. Then suddenly he looked back to his steering +wheel, and the commonplace sentence died unspoken. Quite unaccountably he felt +less inclined to flirt and more inclined to be really friendly, and for some +distance they skimmed along in silence. +</p> + +<p> +They had tea at the Star and Garter, both chatting volubly on the most +interesting topics of the day. Hal’s newspaper work had made her +cognisant of many subjects very few girls of her age would even have heard of, +and her original criticisms delighted him. It was a gay little tea-table, and +the time slipped by with extraordinary rapidity. Hal noticed it first. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know it is half-past six?” she said, “and I’m +dining out tonight. We must fly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it really past six?…” in astonishment. “How the time has +flown! You know, you are such an entertaining little woman, you make me forget +everything but yourself.” He looked at her hard, and the force of habit +caused him to add: “I doubt if any other woman I know today could have +given me so much pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you needn’t thank me,” with her low, fresh laugh, +“because I came entirely to give myself pleasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I hope you have succeeded. I see it is quite hopeless to expect any +sort of a complimentary speech from you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite; though I don’t mind admitting I have been very enjoyably +entertained as well.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is something, anyhow. And now I suppose you are going straight off +home to dress, and dine with some one else, and forget about me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose I shall forget you. It happens to be a journalist +dinner, and probably we shall tear you to pieces between us before we have +finished.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’d rather you did that than forget me.” +</p> + +<p> +She felt him looking hard into her face, with something a little sinister in +his expression, and she got up and turned away. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you turn away when I am interested? Don’t you think you +might be a little pleased that I don’t want you to forget me?” +</p> + +<p> +He asked the question with a humorous twinkle, though she felt that he meant it +seriously as well. This last, however, she was clever enough to ignore, and +merely threw him a mischievous glance over her shoulder as she answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I have to consider Brother Dudley’s attitude, you see; and +I’ve a notion he would be best pleased for both the incident and motorist +of Sunday evening to be forgotten.” +</p> + +<p> +He got up slowly, looking amused. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose he would be horrified at this outing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I strongly suspect he would.” +</p> + +<p> +“What if he hears you were out motoring at Richmond with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, I shall tell him you are old enough to be my father, and not +to be absurd.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you harp on my age so?… If I am old enough to be your father, it +doesn’t follow that I’m too old to be your lover?” +</p> + +<p> +He was standing close to her now, looking down into her face, and Hal felt a +little conscious tremor run through her blood. She faced him squarely, however, +and answered in a gay, careless voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it doesn’t, only, as I don’t happen to want a +lover, it’s a contingency not worth considering.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps the post is already filled?” he suggested, refusing +likewise to be daunted. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite filled. It’s a case for a placard stating ‘House +Full’, and you,” she finished, “would naturally be at the +tail end of the queue which has to go away.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed with relish, and gave it up. +</p> + +<p> +“I can see you will take some taming,” he said, as he handed her +into the car. “My weighty and important position evidently does not +impress you in the least.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not, as you’re a Liberal. They have so few really good +men, they have to take anything they can get. Back up the Budget and the +Chancellor, and exhibit a colossal amount of impudence, and there you +are!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there isn’t much to boast of in the way of men on the +Conservative side, is there? Chiefly a collection of cousins, and +second-cousins, and cousins by marriage, shoved in by a few interfering old +aunts. You don’t need me to tell an enlightened young woman like you that +even impudence might serve the country better than cousin-ship.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder sometimes if any of you honestly put the country first at any +time; or whether it is just a popular name for a very big +‘me’?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are such a little sceptic. Do you always credit people with +self-interested motives?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know that I do; but if you are a city-worker it is a +fairly safe basis to work upon, until you can find proof that you are +wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked down at her with amusement. +</p> + +<p> +“What a wise little head it is! Do you know, I don’t think I ever +met any one quite like you before,” +</p> + +<p> +“What you have missed!” was the gay rejoinder, and they both +laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I mustn’t take you home?” as they neared +Piccadilly. “Brother Dudley might see us?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, thanks. If you will drop me at Hyde Park Corner I will take a homely +bus, and return to my Bloomsbury level.” +</p> + +<p> +“Until my next free afternoon, I hope. Will you come again soon?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you do on Sundays?” +</p> + +<p> +“I generally go out with Dick Bruce.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does Dick Bruce consider himself entitled to every Sunday?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I consider myself entitled to Dick!…” laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re evidently very fond of Dick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very,” with enthusiasm. “I have been for twenty-five years. +We were like the two babies in <i>Punch</i> which said, ‘Help yourself +and pass the bottle.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Dick’s a lucky devil. Does he take Saturday afternoons as +well?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; he plays cricket or hockey then.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then may I have a Saturday afternoon?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be jolly;” and a swift gleam in her eyes told him she +meant it. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. I shall consider that a promise. The first Saturday I can +arrange, we’ll run down to some little place on the coast, and get some +sea air. And if you feel inclined to write me a letter between now and then, +send it to York Chambers, Jermyn Street.” +</p> + +<p> +He pulled up, and instantly she exclaimed in haste: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there’s my bus. Good-bye, thanks awfully; I must fly”; +and before he could get in another word, he saw her clambering on to a +motor-omnibus, with the utmost unconcern for his sudden, astonished +solitariness. +</p> + +<p> +“Gad!… what a woman she’ll be one day,” was his comment. +“If she’d a hundred thousand pounds I wouldn’t mind marrying +her myself; she’d never let a chap get bored. I’ll warrant,” +He moved slowly down Piccadilly. “Most of them do,” he cogitated; +“it doesn’t seem as if there were one woman in a thousand who +didn’t soon become a bore. Heigh-ho, but debts are more boring still +sometimes, and I want a fifty-thousand cheque badly.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<p> +When Hal went to tell Lorraine of her adventure she found her a victim of the +prevailing malady, kept indoors two days with influenza. She was not in bed, +but lying on a sofa, by a small fire, looking very frail and ill. Hal did not +say much, as Lorraine disliked fussing, but her heart smote her to think she +had been absent two days while her friend was a prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you tell Jean to ’phone me?” she asked. +“I would have got here somehow.” +</p> + +<p> +Instead of answering, Lorraine nestled down into her cushions, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“It’s dreadful nice to see you, chummy.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal drew up a footstool, and sat down with her head against the sofa. +</p> + +<p> +“What does the court physician say, Lorry? Of course he is generally +fathering and brothering and mothering you as well as doctoring?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; he is taking care of me in a sort of all-round, comprehensive +fashion. I don’t know what I should do without him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do!…” with a little laugh. “Why, just have another court +physician instead.” Hal’s eyes strayed round the room. “What +loverly flowers, Lorraine! Don’t they almost make you feel a +corpse?” +</p> + +<p> +“They would if they were white, I dare say.” +</p> + +<p> +On a little table by the sofa was a bowl of violets, looking very sweet and +homely among the beautiful exotics filling all the other vases. Hal buried her +nose in them. +</p> + +<p> +“How delicious! Who ventured to send your royal highness anything so +homely as violets?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine’s eyes rested on them with a look of tenderness. “Some one +not very well off,” she said, “who had the perspicacity to know I +should value them from him more than the choicest blooms.” +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds as if it might have been Dick. Was it?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine replied in a careless tone, suggesting there was no special interest +attached to the giver, but, for some unknown reason, Hal chose to be +inquisitive. +</p> + +<p> +“The Three Graces are your only ‘hard-up’ friends, and Quin +is down east, so he would not know you were ill. Surely Baby didn’t think +it at all out by himself, and actually go into a shop and buy them?” +</p> + +<p> +“You shouldn’t call Mr. Hermon Baby, Hal; it isn’t quite +fair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes it is, as long as he is so objectless and purposeless. Besides, +his face is so cherubic I can’t help it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I call his face very manly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, so it is—in a way: but it’s cherubic also; and then +he’s so dreadfully placid. If he’d only wake up, and boil over +about something.” +</p> + +<p> +She was silent a few moments, and then said suddenly; +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know Sir Edwin Crathie, Lorraine?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; why? I now of him.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know of him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing much. I believe he is a great lady’s man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve met him,” said Hal; and she proceeded to tell of the +motor mishap and subsequent meeting. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine was interested and amused, but for some strange reason Hal did not +tell the tale with her usual gusto, and nothing in her voice or manner +suggested it was more than the most casual of meetings. Lorraine, a little +preoccupied with her own feelings, for a wonder did not discern that Hal +treated the incident with a lightness not quite natural, considering how +exceedingly unlooked-for it was, and before the recital was quite finished Jean +looked in to inquire if Lorraine would see Mr. Hermon. Lorraine replied in the +affirmative, and a moment later Alymer Hermon entered the room. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so sorry you are not well,” he said, in his frank, +pleasant way. “I only heard of it last night.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then you sent me violets. It was nice of you. I appreciate them so +much.” +</p> + +<p> +“I guessed Dick,” put in Hal, who had not risen from her stool. +“I did not think you would have the energy to think of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been feeling rather exhausted since,” he told her lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Take the arm chair,” said Lorraine smilingly, “and have a +good rest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do,” echoed Hal. “I’m sure you are tired out with your +day’s work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be so superior,” he retorted. “Just because you +can type a certain number of words per minute, you give yourself such +airs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s a better reason than the fact of being a few inches +longer than most people.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now you two,” put in Lorraine, “don’t start +quarrelling in such a hurry. Try and be nice and polite to each other for a few +minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Baby doesn’t like me when I’m polite,” said Hal. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never had a chance to judge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Liar. What about the first time we met?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you were rather nice in those days. Your offensive attitude is +only of comparatively recent date.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t sit there like a stodgy old book-worm, reeling off +nicely rounded sentences.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope it might impress you with the incongruity of addressing me as an +infant.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked up from her lowly seat with a mischievous, engaging expression. +</p> + +<p> +“You know you really are rather clever in a useless sort of +fashion,” she informed him. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” making a bow. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you tell him how to be clever in a useful sort of fashion, +with all your practical experience?” suggested Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I <i>could</i>; but what’s the use? he doesn’t want to +know. It would mean hard work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Give him the benefit of a suggestion, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, other briefless barristers peg away at journalism, and political +agency work, and coaching, and studying. Baby just sits down and looks nice, as +if he thought the briefs would come fluttering round him like all the silly, +pink-cheeked, wide-eyed girls. You ought to have seen our little maid the night +he dined with us. When she first saw him she seemed to mutter ‘O +my’ in a breathless fashion, and when she handed him his plate, she spilt +all the gravy on to his knee, gazing into his face.” +</p> + +<p> +Hermon looked a little annoyed. “Very few people can talk absolute rot in +a clever way,” he aimed at her. +</p> + +<p> +Hal laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, that drew you, Baby! You look quite ruffled. I was only pulling +your leg: the pink-cheeked girls don’t really flutter round, they run +away in terror at your scowl. You know he can scowl, Lorraine. At least it +isn’t exactly a scowl; it’s more a cast-iron solemnity of such +degree that it has a Medusa-like effect and freezes the poor little +peach-blossom girls into putty images.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure Mr. Hermon never gives his personal appearance a +thought,” Lorraine replied, “except when you insist upon harping on +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t help it. I feel he’s hemmed in with such a sticky, +treacly, simpering amount of youthful adoration generally, that I simply have +to rag him for his good!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very kind of you to be so interested in my +welfare”—a twinkle gleamed suddenly in his blue eyes—“I +certainly like your way of adoring the best.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah”—with an answering twinkle—“I didn’t +think you had guessed my secret. How embarrassing of you! You have positively +driven me away.” She rose to her feet. “I must go, Lorry. I +can’t sit out any more. He has discovered that I adore him.” +</p> + +<p> +“You both seem rather imbecile tonight,” Lorraine commented; +“but surely it needn’t drive you away, Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +“I must go all the same. We have visitors coming. I shall run in again +tomorrow. Be sure and ’phone me if there is anything I can do for +you.” She kissed Lorraine, and turned to Hermon. “Good-bye. +Don’t display all your best allurements to Lorraine this evening, because +she isn’t strong enough for it. Remember my unhappy plight, and let one +victim satisfy you for the present.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about your victims?” he asked. “Dick is kicking the +toes of his boots thin because he saw you yesterday with Sir Edwin +Crathie.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal coloured up, much to her own disgust, and greatly to Hermon’s +enjoyment, who immediately followed up his advantage with: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose we shall all have to cry small now, because of the right +honourable gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +“It will be a puzzler for you to cry small,” was her rather feeble +retort, as she passed out. +</p> + +<p> +Hermon came back and reseated himself in the big arm chair. +</p> + +<p> +“May I stay?” he asked, and Lorraine answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, do,” in the frank spirit she had told herself must be her +attitude towards him. +</p> + +<p> +So he sat on with an air of content, seeming to fill some place in the pretty +room by right of an old comradeship, or some blood-tie, or a mutual +understanding—an intangible, indefinable attitude that had sprung into +being between them of itself. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine did not talk much, because she was tired, but she let the goodly sight +of him, and the quiet rest of him, lull and soothe her senses for the passing +moment without any disturbing questioning. Hermon likewise did not question. He +liked being there, and she seemed willing for him to stay, and it seemed +enough. +</p> + +<p> +Once or twice lately he was conscious that he had been rather foolish with +different admiring friends of the fair sex; and though he was no prig, and knew +most men took kisses and caressess when offered, and would have thought it a +needless throwing away of good things to refuse, he yet felt a little irritated +with himself and the givers without quite knowing why. +</p> + +<p> +And there was another trying incident over a girl he had met at various +country-houses the previous summer, and greatly enjoyed a flirtation with. +Unfortunately, she appeared not to have understood it in the light of a +flirtation; and now she was writing him miserable, reproachful love-letters +which had at any rate succeeded in making him wish he had been more +circumspect. It soothed his ruffled feelings to be with Lorraine; and it +flattered his vanity to feel that she liked him there. +</p> + +<p> +They had been sitting quietly some little time when the front-door bell +announced another caller, and Jean came to inquire if her mistress would see +Lord Denton. Lorraine half unconsciously glanced at Hermon, and seeing an +expression of disappointment on his face, said quietly. “Ask him to come +tomorrow, Jean. I am very tired tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +Jean went away, and presently returned with a loverly bouquet of malmaisons, +and three or four new books. “His lordship will call about twelve,” +she said: “and he hopes, if you feel able to go out, you will let him +take you in his motor.” Then she went out, leaving them alone again. +</p> + +<p> +In the pause that followed, Lorraine lay silently watching him for some +minutes, wondering what was passing in his mind. Although it was only September +still, the evenings were drawing in quickly, and there was little light in the +room except the flickering glow of cheerful flames on the hearth. They caught +the glint of his hair and shone on his face, throwing the delicate, +aristocratic features with cameo-like dinstinctness on the black shadow beyond. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine looked again, with the eyes of a connoisseur, and she knew that in +very truth no merely handsome face and form were here, but a nature and +character corresponding to the outward beauty of line and lineament. She +wondered once more as she lay there what it must be to have borne such a son; +and a surging, aching, tearing pain filled her heart for the longing to have +known from experience. She felt she could have been a saint among women for +very joy, and an ideal companion, as well as a mother to such as he. +</p> + +<p> +And instead?— +</p> + +<p> +Well, there were murky corners in the background for her as well as her mother, +but never from actual seeking. When necessity had not driven her, loneliness +had, and the gnawing ache of a fine, fearless soul to grasp some satisfaction +from the sorry scheme of things. And always the satisfaction had passed so +quickly... so quickly, driving the starved soul back on itself again, with a +little extra weight added to its burden of bitter knowledge. +</p> + +<p> +Was there then no counterpart for her—no twin soul—no strong, true +comrade, to say “You and I” when sorrow and disillusion came, and +so rob pain of its deepest sting? +</p> + +<p> +Then, as if he felt her scrutiny, he turned his face to her slowly, and looked +into her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You know you are looking rather bad,” he said a little awkwardly +and shyly. “I’m awfully sorry. I hope you are taking care of +yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose I should worry much if left to myself,” she +told him, with a touch of lightness; “but a very stern physician, and a +most resolute maid, insist upon giving me every possible attention.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t tire you… my being here?…” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I like it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you always want to know the why of things?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I don’t as a rule bother much, but this is a +little amazing, isn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why you should think so.” +</p> + +<p> +He studied the fire again. +</p> + +<p> +“Only that you are at the top of the ladder, and I am at the +bottom.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was once there too.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did it seem as if it would be impossible ever to reach the +top?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, often. I don’t think anything but resolute, iron +determination ever takes any one up. Influence helps a good many up the lower +rungs, and saves them a lot of the drudgery, but it cannot do much else, and +unless one is full of grit and purpose at heart, one sticks there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, it must be a great help to be pulled through the drudgery.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may mean a good deal of loss also.” +</p> + +<p> +“How?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t suppose success that is won through favour means half so +much to the winner as success that is wrenched from Fate by one’s own +resolute hands. The only thing is, one wonders so often afterwards if it has +been worth while.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you wonder that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!… don’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +He said nothing, and she went on: +</p> + +<p> +“All the same, I imagine I had to succeed or die. I was built that way. +Nothing less than success would have satisfied me. I often crave for quiet, +restful happiness now, but if it had been offered then I should have passed it +by and struggled blindly for fame. Still, it is hard to think how easily one +can take a false step, and suffer for it till the end.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you do that?” +</p> + +<p> +He turned his eyes to her again, and she saw as sympathy in them that was +deeper than any feeling he had shown her yet. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I was in a very tight corner, and I took a short cut out. I married +for money and influence. The step brought me all I anticipated, but it brought +other things as well, that I had chosen not to remember: nausea, ennui, +self-disgust, loneliness, emptiness. I think I should never have won through +without Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is your husband living?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. In America. We have not troubled each other for a long time. I +suppose I am fortunate in being left alone.” She was silent a few +minutes, and then she told him kindly: “Hal says they always chaff you +about marrying an heiress, for the sake of being rich without any need to work; +but take my advice, and don’t force the hand of Fate before she has had +time to give you good things in her own time.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to her with a very engaging smile as he answered: +</p> + +<p> +“They chaff me about a good many things, but most of them are a little +wide of the mark. I haven’t any leaning at present towards a paid post as +husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad; but I didn’t for a moment suppose you had +seriously. I wonder what you have a leaning towards?” she added. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to succeed.” He sat forward suddenly and leaned his +chin on his hands, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared hard at the +flames. “I care a great deal more about succeeding really than any one +believes; but I’m afraid I’m not cut out for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should like to help you,” she said simply. +</p> + +<p> +“You are very good,” he answered, still looking hard into the fire. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine got up and moved slowly about the room, touching a flower here, and a +flower there, and rearranging them with deft fingers. She turned on an electric +light with a soft shade, and glanced at the books Flip Denton had brought her. +</p> + +<p> +Hermon sat back in his chair and watched her. He thought he had never seen her +lovelier than she looked in the homely simplicity of a graceful tea-gown, and +her thick black hair coiled in a large loose knot low on her neck. It gave her +an absurdly youthful air, that somehow seemed far removed from the brilliant +star as he knew her on the stage. +</p> + +<p> +Then she came towards him, and stood beside him, resting one foot on the fender +and one hand on the mantelpiece; and he saw, with swift seeing, the shapeliness +of the long, thin fingers and the graceful, rounded arm. +</p> + +<p> +“You are thoughtful, <i>mon ami</i>,” she said, with a soft +lightness. “Tell me what you are thinking of.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. I don’t think I am thinking at all. I feel +rather as if I were sunning myself in your smiles, like a cat.” +</p> + +<p> +“You like being here, like this?” +</p> + +<p> +“I love it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then come often. Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall bore you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not. It is pleasant to me also to have some one keeping me +company in such a natural, homely way. You see, I am very much alone. I have no +women friends except Hal, who is nearly always engaged; and there are not many +men one can invite to come and sit by one’s fireside. You seem to come so +naturally and simply. It is clever of you. Very few men could. It is difficult +to believe you are only twenty-four.” +</p> + +<p> +“I fancy years often do not go for very much. I have travelled about +alone a great deal. Anyhow, you are just as young for thirty-two as I am old +for twenty-four.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hal has helped to keep me young. She restores me like some patent +elixir. I suppose I love her more than any one in the world.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not surprised,” he answered. “A good many people +love Hal. Dick and Quin just dote on her.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked at him keenly a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“I am spared wasting my affection,” he added, “by her obvious +contempt for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“She doesn’t mean any of it. She only wants to rouse you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, she succeeds in making me feel rather a worm.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine made no comment, but she could not resist a little inward smile at the +thought of any one making such a man feel a worm. She realised there might be +no harm in the leavening influence. +</p> + +<p> +The clock struck seven, and he gave a start, rising quickly to his feet beside +her. Lorraine was a little under medium height if anything, and as they stood +together he seemed to tower above her like some splendid prehistoric human, +while she appeared as some exquisite miniature, or frail and perfect piece of +Dresden china. +</p> + +<p> +And again it seemed as if his physical beauty acted upon her with some +irresistible magnetism, flowing round her and over her and through her, till +she was enveloped and obsessed by him. +</p> + +<p> +His age was nothing, years are mere detail; she felt only that he was a +splendid creature, and everything in her gloried in it. She rested her hand +lightly on his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“How big you are. You almost overpower me.” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled down at her, but it was just a quiet, friendly smile, and she could +not tell if her touch stirred him. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I am rather a monster. It is sometimes a +nuisance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, don’t say that. I am quite sure the first Adam was as big as +you, and Eve was frightened and ran away, but she wouldn’t for the world +have had him an inch smaller. And every true Eve since has gloried in the man +who towered above her, and was a little terrifying in his strength. Don’t +let them spoil you,” she added with a note of wistfulness, “all the +Eves who must needs follow with or without your bidding.” +</p> + +<p> +“I imagine Hal will counteract much of that; and the feeling, when I am +with you, that I am just a great, brainless, useless animal.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; you are not that; and you are quite extraordinarily unspoilt as yet. +Come and see me again soon, when you’ve nothing better to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“How soon?” +</p> + +<p> +He was looking hard into her face now, almost as if he were only just fully +realising her beauty, and she flushed a little as she met his ardent eyes and +answered: +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as you like.” +</p> + +<p> +“Friday is my first free evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“The come and dine here quietly. I shall not act this week at all. I +shall run down to the sea from Saturday to Monday.” +</p> + +<p> +She had intended to go on Friday afternoon, but with his nearness all Flip +Denton’s sage advice vanished from her mind, and instead of running away +as he urged, she went a step nearer to the temptation. +</p> + +<p> +When he had gone she sat down in the arm chair he had used, and stared hard at +the fire. Jean came in to urge her to go to bed, but she only said: +</p> + +<p> +“No; I like this room and the fire. Bring me the fish, or whatever it is, +here. I will go to bed about half-past eight if you like, but not +before.” +</p> + +<p> +So she sat on, and in her heart she saw still the fine face, with its unspoiled +freshness, and felt his presence still filling the room. +</p> + +<p> +It would seem Fate had brought her and Hal together into the arena of new +happenings and new feelings, for among the crowded houses of Bloomsbury, in a +little high-up bedroom near the sky, Hal sat on the edge of her bed leisurely +brushing her long, bright hair, and pondering a telephone message that had +asked her to go for a motor ride the following Saturday. +</p> + +<p> +“It means putting Amy off,” was her final cogitation, “but I +think I’ll go. It will be such fun, and I’m rather sick of +work.” +</p> + +<p> +So, in spite of strong wills and common-sense warning, we still, as ever, let +our footsteps follow the alluring paths, and go boldly forth to meet a joy, +ever careless of the following sorrow that may accompany it, until the hour of +shunning is past. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<p> +The following Friday afternoon Lorraine went out with Flip Denton in his motor, +and among his first questions was: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, how is the foolish falling in love progressing?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is stationary. I’ve got another friend I want to keep, Flip; +another friend like you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, I can’t pass that. You were never even remotely in sight of +falling in love with me. And you know what Kipling says: ‘Love’s +like line-work; you can’t stand still, you must go backward or +forward.’ You don’t propose to take my advice and run away from +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not before I am sure there is danger, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +They were silent some moments, then she asked him: +</p> + +<p> +“Do men ever run away, Flip?... My experience has been that the average +man always has a good try to get what he wants, without much consideration for +outside things, or for youth, or for harm.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s because beautiful women necessarily come up against the +worst in men. It is their fate: one of the balancing conditions perhaps to make +things more even with the less-favoured women.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose great beauty generally undoes a woman. Is it the same with men +too? It seems a pity when Nature produces anything beautiful she should not +guard it better—beautiful flowers, beautiful birds, beautiful creatures +all ravished the quickest; while the little, comfortable daisies, and sparrows, +and homely people go serenely on unharmed.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not reply, and they sped along in the understanding silence they were +both so fond of. +</p> + +<p> +Denton was thinking, as a man may, of various pretty faces that had been the +undoing of their owners, and wondering a little dimly and confusedly about the +paradoxical contrariness of Nature, who gives a man his strongest desires +nearly always towards forbidden ends. Why create a beautiful thing, and then +create a longing for it, and then probably descend in wrath upon both heads +which did but follow the bent she herself had given them? +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine was wondering a little bitterly why a man may taste forbidden fruit +again and again and go unpunished; and why a woman, so often set amid sterner +temptations, was yet left so strangely unprotected: the one so quickly able to +put an incident aside, and seek fresh fields for conquest; the other so +terribly liable to be branded for life in that same incident. +</p> + +<p> +It made a bitterness surge up in her soul for her own unprotected girlhood and +struggling youth; and for all they had brought her to learn of the tree of +knowledge. No doubt she had been callous enough about it at the time; eager +only to dare, and triumph, and achieve; but how should it have been otherwise, +since no kindly guiding hand had told her she was wasting her powers and her +substance to achieve an end that would never satisfy her soul? +</p> + +<p> +Did she even know she had a soul that would presently crave a satisfaction +found only among the higher and better things, and turn away with infinite +scorn from the petty triumphs of an hour or a day? +</p> + +<p> +Well, she had fought her fight with the rest, and triumphed greatly in the +world’s eyes; and now she must abide by the path she had chosen, and +glean the best satisfaction she could out of it. +</p> + +<p> +And yet— +</p> + +<p> +Later in the afternoon, when she sat drinking a lonely cup of tea by a lonely +fireside, the questioning, probing mood returned again; the significant +“and yet” still left the last conclusion without any finality. +Looking backward, a sense of resentment seemed to creep over her; a combative +desire to get even with Fate about many things while there was time and +opportunity. +</p> + +<p> +She remembered particularly the first man who had tried to lead her astray. He +had been considerably more than twice her age, a hardened sinner without any +compunction, with a devilish cunning at breaking down defences without any +seeming over-persuasion, and at whitewashing his actions into passionate +devotion to youngn inexperienced years. She remembered how she had struggled to +resist him. It was good to remember now that she had not been his victim. +</p> + +<p> +And yet, what of it, while such men could triumph again and again and go +seemingly unpunished, and young, eager, ambitious souls were often so pitifully +stranded at the beginning of a career? +</p> + +<p> +Men of his age and his character usually did triumph. How often had she seen it +since! The first wrong step not a generous-hearted, hot-headed youth; but a +hardened sinner who had wearied of other hardened sinners and turned his evil +designs to youth and freshness, hoping perchance to be rejuvenated thereby. +</p> + +<p> +And Nature stood by with folded hands, and saw her fairest creations soiled and +ravished before they had reached maturity, without apparently the smallest +compunction. +</p> + +<p> +Her first wrong step had been her marriage, and though it had given her a good +deal in the beginning, in the end how it had robbed her!... ah! how it had +robbed her of those things that could never be won back. +</p> + +<p> +And now, by an unlooked-for turn of events, she found herself among the +world-wearied ones, asking for the divine freshness of youth. If she chose to +make him love her she believed she could. +</p> + +<p> +And yet?— +</p> + +<p> +She stood beside the window and leaned her head against the framework, gazing +at the river. It was gliding smoothly along now, beautified and glorified by +the reflected light of a setting sun. How light transfigured! +</p> + +<p> +The murky, muddy, sullen Thames, so often going with its countless burdens, as +one enslaved unwillingly to the needs of commerce, now flashing, shining, +silver waters hastening joyfully out to sea. She felt that often and often her +life had been as the shadowed, murky waters, enslaved unwillingly by bonds that +circumstances had created. +</p> + +<p> +She thought how his life, the life of this man who was beginning to fill her +soul, was still like the joyous, shining, waters reflecting sunlight. Was it +possible she wanted to bring the shadows and dim its silver radiance for her +own gratifications? +</p> + +<p> +And even so, was it in any case likely to go undimmed much longer? The shadows +were certain enough to come, if not through her, perhaps through some one with +less soul, and less fineness of aim, who would do him far greater harm. Her +love for him was not, at least, entirely selfish. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that she cared very much for his future. She cared very much that life +should give him a chance to fulfill the best of his promise. +</p> + +<p> +And if the chance came by shadows, well, across the river of a man’s life +they flitted lightly enough as a rule, chasing each other away, and leaving the +waters still flowing joyfully. It was only for a woman, apparently, the shadows +left a stain that even the sunlight could not chase away. +</p> + +<p> +It would seem woman was made a helpmeet for man in many ways beside that of +keeping his home and bearing his children. How often did he owe his best +development and best achievements to her, absorbing light from her in some +mysterious ordering, and soaring away afterwards while she was left among the +shadows. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, by some equally mysterious compensation, a woman was often so fashioned +that if she could feel the upward flight was won through her, she might rest +statisfied even though him she loved had soared away. It was the mother-love +blending strangely with the wife-love; the protecting, inspiring, unselfish, +mothering instinct, lying in the soul of every true-hearted woman. +</p> + +<p> +Standing gazing at the flashing river, Lorraine, in the midst of her probing, +knew that it was his ultimate success and good she wanted, as well as his +freshness to sweeten her own life. +</p> + +<p> +And yet?— +</p> + +<p> +What if she brought a shadow where there would otherwise have been no shadow, +dimmed a brightness that, without her, had gone undimmed? She knew he was not +weak naturally. He did not need any strengthening; only impetus, ambition, aim, +and some safeguarding by the way. +</p> + +<p> +She smiled a little drearily at the recollection that it was from her, herself, +that probably his own people would think he needed safeguarding. She could +foresee that they would likely enough hurl themselves between him and her, +oblivious that by doing so they might very possibly be the cause of driving him +to far worse. But that, of course, no one could help; as how should they know +the fine shades between the women who lived outside the conventions? +</p> + +<p> +But then again, they need not know that the great friendship existed—why +should they? After all, few would credit the celebrated, beautiful actress with +anything beyond a passing fancy for the youthful, briefless barrister. +</p> + +<p> +And yet?— +</p> + +<p> +Across every fresh pathway she turned her thoughts along, was still that +arresting, intangible, “and yet”. +</p> + +<p> +The pity of it! At least he was strong, and true, and unspoilt now. Why not +give life a chance to leave him so? +</p> + +<p> +Why not give Fate a chance to endow him quickly with the rich, blessed love +that kept a man walking straight and strong along his steadfast way? +</p> + +<p> +But again the thought came back of what he would lose, what he must inevitably +lose, if he missed the storm and stress and struggle that are as the mill and +furnace through which the gold is refined, and hardened, and separated from the +dross. +</p> + +<p> +She went back to the fireside feeling that her probing had brought her +nowhither, and that she was only very tired and very depressed. +</p> + +<p> +Then she went slowly away to dress, and chose, somewhat to Jean’s +surprise, one of the simplest evening frocks she possessed. Jean, knowing the +tall, beautiful new friend was coming to dinner, had laid out an elaborate +dinner-dress, and arranged the jewel cases for selection. +</p> + +<p> +“Put them away at once,” was all her mistress said, with one +sweeping glance round. “I shall wear that little blue Liberty gown and a +single row of pearls.” +</p> + +<p> +When Alymer came he found her already seated by the fire, engaged with some +knitting. +</p> + +<p> +“How nice and homely,” he said. “I never associated you with +anything so commonplace as sewing.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I can’t sew very well,” with a little +smile. “I can knit this, and that is about all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you better?” and he scanned her face critically, in an +old-fashioned way that gave her secret joy. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir, thank you,” with a low laugh. +</p> + +<p> +He laughed too, and took up his stand on the hearthrug, with his hands behind +his back, in a natural, quite-at-home way, that seemed to come easily to him. +</p> + +<p> +“How jolly it is to see a fire. My mater always seems afraid of beginning +too soon. I think she has a sort of feeling that if winter sees fires started +he will hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never leave them off. My fire is one of my staunchest companions. An +empty grate always depresses me, because if it is sunny and hot I want to be +out-of-doors, and if it is not, I want my fire. Let us go to dinner, then we +can get back and purr over it to our hearts’ content.” +</p> + +<p> +Because it pleased her to make him an honoured guest, Lorraine had been at +considerable pains in ordering her dinner, and she was gratified to observe +that it was not wasted on him. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly, among other things at Oxford he had learnt to know a good dinner and +good wine, and enjoy them as a connoisseur. It amused her also to observe that +the old-fashioned air with which he had inquired a little masterfully after her +health, grew upon him as the evening progressed. +</p> + +<p> +She thought he must be a little bit of a tyrant to his mother, and any one he +was specially fond of. Not dictatorially so, but with a humorous, +half-satirical insistence that was very engaging. +</p> + +<p> +When the sat over the fire together, later, she found herself telling him many +things about her early struggles, and first successes, not in the least in a +“talking down” attitude, but as to a very sympathetic companion of +her own age. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident he was truly interested, and this made him a charming listener. +And he told her yet further of his own hopes, and disappointments, and +discouragements. Several times since he took his degree, one friend or another +had held out hopeful expectations of being able to put him on to this case of +that, which might bring a brief. And always the hope had failed, and the +promise ended in smoke. +</p> + +<p> +She gave him sympathy in her turn, and said she would not raise his +expectations unkindly, but she believed she could really help him to get a +start. She would speak to Lord Denton about it. He was always ready to do a +little thing like that for her. +</p> + +<p> +“He is one of those dear people,” she told him, “who seem to +try to make up for their own incorrigible laziness by going out of their way to +put some one else in the way of a start.” +</p> + +<p> +She saw the colour deepen in his face, and a subdued light shine in his eyes, +as he thanked her rather haltingly. The little show of diffidence was very +charming. How far removed, how amazingly far removed he was from the average +good-looking youth of twenty-four, who was usually so anxious to impress every +one with his attributes and his powers. +</p> + +<p> +And he was not even average. Every time she saw him she wondered afresh at his +extraordinary wealth of attraction. One could have forgiven him a few airs and +mannerisms; but no forgiveness was asked: in every single phrase she found him +always the modest, unassuming, high-bred gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +So they sat on and talked, and for the time being the warfare of the afternoon +passed from her mind. Probing seemed suddenly out of place. Why probe?... Their +friendship had slipped of itself into an old companionship. What need for more? +She knew instinctively he would come often to fill her lonely hours, and tell +her all about his work and his doings. +</p> + +<p> +And sometimes they would go out together on little jaunts. If they did, who +need know, or who, at any rate, need gossip? She felt a gladness grow in her +mind at the thought of the happy friendship they might have; guarded perhaps +from harm by the disparity in their years, and at the same time of inestimable +benefit to him, and pleasure to her. She felt almost motherly as she laid her +fingers lightly on his arm, with a little laughing jest, as they stood together +before parting. +</p> + +<p> +“I have enjoyed my evening of invalidism so much. Come and see me again +soon, won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should love to. You are very good to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no; I’m not. Don’t let us talk of goodness in that way. +I like your company; and it is good to have what one likes. I shall expect you +again soon, Alymer—I may call you Alymer, mayn’t I?... Mr. Hermon +is so overpowering.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you would. I would have asked you, only I was afraid you might +think it cheek.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well then, <i>Alymer</i>,” with emphasis, “when I have +spoken to Lord Denton I will telephone you; and I hope he will be able to start +you off on a road that will very nearly end in a verdict of ‘Suffocated +with briefs.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Or ‘briefly suffocated’,” he laughed, and beat a hasty +retreat, for fear of a reprisal. +</p> + +<p> +When he had gone, Lorraine sat again in the firelight, and it seemed as if the +stress and unrest had fallen from her, and only the memory of a pleasant +companionship remained. They were going to be the best of pals—why +not—and why seek to probe any further? +</p> + +<p> +Apparently he was not susceptible, and cared more for his profession than any +one supposed, and so, since she liked to have him there to glory in his +comeliness, they could form a mutual benefit society, and no one need be hurt +at all. It was all quite simple, and she went to bed feeling rested and +refreshed, and looking forward hopefully for the pleasant meetings to come? +</p> + +<p> +Flip Denton was running down to Brighton for the weekend also, to take her out +on the Sunday in his car; and he noticed at once that a shadow which had +hovered over her eyes of late had vanished. +</p> + +<p> +“You are looking topping,” he told her. “What about the love +affair, is it all satisfactorily off? It has been worrying you a little of +late.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not exactly off,” she replied, “but it is more +satisfactorily placed. We are going to be real good pals. He is going to keep +me company in some of my lonely hours, and I am going to try and help him to +get briefs. I am relying on you for the first one, Flip.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dickens you are. My dear girl, why should I put myself out to +acquire a brief for a rival?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, just because you are you. You know you will love it, Flip! You will +get him a brief, and then you will pat yourself on the back and say: ‘I +know I’m a lazy dog myself, but I’m a devil of a good chap at +getting other fellows work.’” +</p> + +<p> +“So I am”—enjoying her thrust—“and it’s a +splendid line, and gives far more satisfaction in the end. If I tried to work I +should only make a mess of it, and drive some one nearly crazy, whereas, in +putting another chap on to a job I give such a lot of folks pleasure, I feel I +am getting square with the Almighty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you’ll try, Flip?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is humanly possible, he shall have a brief of his very own within the +next month.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are a dear. Sometimes I think you are the most adorable person I +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t think it long enough at a time, Lorry. You are too prone +to go off suddenly after false gods measuring six-foot-five-and-a-half inches +and with the faces of Apollo Belvederes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably it is a merciful precaution on the part of our guardian angels, +Flip; and, anyhow, you know you like a little variation yourself in the way of +bulk, and sound, practical, indecorous chorus girldom.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” was his unabashed affirmative. “Nice, comfortable, +elevating palliness with you; and a right down rollicking bust-up occasionally +with the ladies of the unpretending school of wild oats.” +</p> + +<p> +“I want my giant for the present to be satisfied with his palliness with +me and his work. Do you think he will?” +</p> + +<p> +“As I haven’t seen him I can’t say. If I get the chance, +however, I’ll tell him that ‘wild oats’ are the very devil, +and I’d give all I’ve got to have stuck to work and had naught to +do with ’em.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know you wouldn’t, Flip,” with a little laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“I know I couldn’t, you mean; but I never admit it to +juniors.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you shall come to the flat to meet him. If he gets a brief, +we’ll have a little dinner party, and I’ll ask Hal and her cousin +and St. Quintin.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right you are. I haven’t seen Miss Pritchard for ages. Shall we +turn now, and go back by Rottingdean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us go whichever way has the best view of the sea. I feel I want to +look at wide, breezy spaces for a while, and not talk at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall,” he promised, and they sped along in silence. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<p> +When Hall sat on the side of her bed, brushing her hair and meditating on her +irritation, she had not misjudged when she anticipated great enjoyment from an +afternoon run with her new friend. +</p> + +<p> +It would have been difficult indeed to say who enjoyed it the most. Hal was in +great form, and Sir Edwin Crathie half unconsciously took his tone from her, +dropping his usual attitude towards women he liked, and adopting instead one as +gay and careless and inconsequent as hers. +</p> + +<p> +It was not in the nature of the man to desist from flirting with her, but his +pretty speeches were coupled with a humour and chaff that robbed them of any +pointedness, and merely resulted in an amusing amount of parry and thrust, over +which they both laughed whole-heartedly. +</p> + +<p> +“You are an absolute witch,” he told her as they sat enjoying a big +tea at an hotel on the south coast; “ever since we started you have made +me behave more or less like a school-boy, and a tea like this is the +climax.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a good thing I am the only witness,” she laughed. +“The poorness of your jokes alone would have horrified your colleagues, +but to see you eating such a tea must have meant a request for your +resignation—it is so incompatible with the dignity of a Cabinet +Minister.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had almost forgotten I was a Cabinet Minister. Gad! but it’s +nice to get right away from the cares of office occasionally like this. When +will you come again?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t think I must come any more,” roguishly. +“I’m sure Brother Dudley will not consent.” +</p> + +<p> +“What has Brother Dudley go to do with it?… Did he consent this +time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly. I anticipated his willingness.” +</p> + +<p> +“You little fibber. You mean you anticipated his firm refusal, and took +French leave, so that you need not disobey him.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is true that Dudley and I differ occasionally, but I do not disobey +him… if I can help it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you took French leave this time, you can easily do it +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But this time it was a novelty. I was curious to find out how I should +enjoy an afternoon with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Rubbish. You knew perfectly well you would enjoy it immensely. So did I. +Two people who like each other always know those kind of things at once.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal leaned back in her chair, and her expressive mouth twitched in a way that +made him long to kiss it hard. +</p> + +<p> +“There are occasions when I don’t like you at all,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“Fibber again. When don’t you like me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Chiefly when you are quite positive certain sure that I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that is never; so you are a fibber.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you seemed particularly confident nine seconds ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was only teasing you. I could hardly have been serious after you have +called me a worm, and an old man. So now—when will you come again?” +</p> + +<p> +“In about a month. Let’s go out as Guys on the fifth of +November.” +</p> + +<p> +“A month be blowed! I want to know which day next week?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am full up next week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Full up of what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine Vivian, Dick Bruce, Quin, the Beloved Chief, and the +Baby.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a list! Is Lorraine Vivian the actress? Who are Quin and the +Baby?” +</p> + +<p> +“She is… and they are!…” +</p> + +<p> +“Who does the Baby belong to?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be difficult to say. About a dozen probably claim him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And doesn’t he know his own mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I wasn’t thinking of mothers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who were you thinking of?” +</p> + +<p> +“The ladies who have lost their hearts to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. Are you one of them?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not. You see, his beauty has never struck me all of a heap, because +I’ve got so used to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is he a beautiful baby, or a youth, or a man?” +</p> + +<p> +“A bit of all three. He stands 6 ft. 5 ½ in., and is superbly +handsome. I call him sometimes, for variation, the stuffed blue-and-gold +Apollo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s better than ‘a positive worm’,” +laughing, “but I don’t mind him. Who is Quin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quin is a philanthropist, sentimentalist, and hero. He spends his life +working in the East End.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t mind him either, and Dick Bruce I’ve seen. The +actress doesn’t count, and your precious chief you see every day. Now, +then, when will you come again?” +</p> + +<p> +He got up from his seat and came round to her side of the table. He had a vague +intention of imprisoning her hand, and perhaps her waist, but some +indescribable quality held him off. It was difficult to suppose she did not +half guess what was in his mind, and yet, without showing the smallest +consciousness or shyness, she faced him with a look so boyishly frank and open +it utterly disarmed him. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not a bit more persuasive on my right side than my left, and I have +promised next Saturday to the Three Graces—who are Dick and Quin and +Baby. We are going to the Crystal Palace to see a football match.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what about Sunday?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I can’t come on Sunday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know, except that it usually belongs to Dudley or Dick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Next Sunday needn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, that’s what I don’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes you do.” He moved a little nearer. “You’ve got to +keep next Sunday for me. It’s my turn. We’ll have a splendid day. +We’ll take Peter, and we’ll start early and fly down to the New +Forest. It’s glorious in the autumn. We’ll have a picnic-lunch, and +tea at an hotel on the way back. So that’s settled.” He got up, and +lifted her ulster from the back of a chair. “Now come along, and +we’ll slip home before it gets late enough to cause trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal let it pass for the time, and got into her ulster. She was clever enough to +see the advantage of retaining a way of escape if she changed her mind, or +accepting the invitation if she wanted to later on. +</p> + +<p> +She knew perfectly well a girl did not always go out for a whole day with a man +like Sir Edwin with impunity; but she had also something of contempt for a girl +who missed a great treat for want of pluck. She preferred to leave the question +open, and if she badly wanted to go at the end of the week she would not, at +any rate, stay away because she was afraid. +</p> + +<p> +As it happened, circumstances played into Sir Edwin Crathie’s hands. +About Wednesday, with a diffidence that made Hal secretly amused and secretly +curious, Dudley asked her if she would mind if he was away for the whole day on +Sunday. As she was generally away herself as long as the summer lasted, she +wondered why he should ask her in that manner. It was just as they had finished +breakfast, and he busied himself with his pipe-rack as he made the +announcement. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I don’t mind,” she said. “Are you going into +the country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ye-es.” He seemed about to add something further, but changed his +mind. Hal, with a little inward chuckle, divined by his manner he must be going +somewhere with a lady, and she was pleased, as she liked a man to have woman +friends, believing they made him more broad-minded and tolerant and +generous-hearted if well-chosen. +</p> + +<p> +She asked no further question, however, and Dudley commenced to whistle softly +as he drew on his boots. Evidently his mind was somewhat relieved after the +sentence was said. +</p> + +<p> +So now it remained to discover Dick’s attitude. She could, of course, +quite easily put him off; but she was not quite prepared to do this of her own +initiative, as he had so generously placed all his Sundays at her disposal. On +Friday, however, he was speaking to her through the telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Hal, you’re coming to the Footer match tomorrow, +aren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, of course I am. Why?...” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s just this way. I was going to motor the pater to Aunt +Judith’s, and I forgot all about it. He wants me to take him on Sunday +instead. What shall I do?... Would you care to come too?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal had not the smallest wish to go to Aunt Judith’s, who belonged to the +old school, and disapproved in a most outspoken manner of lady-clerks of every +sort and description. It was a constant grievance to her, when she set eyes on +Hal,that she did not gratefully accept £20 as secretary to a well-known, +interesting editor. +</p> + +<p> +In consequence, Hal encountered her as little as possible, accepted gratefully +her interesting, easy billet, and consigned the imaginary young children to a +Hades peopled with nursery governesses. +</p> + +<p> +“Awfully sweet and good and kind of you, Dicky dear,” she called +back to him mockingly, “but I think I’ll practise a little +self-denial this time, and stay away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Odd you should say that,” he laughed, “because I consider +I’m practising a little self-denial in going. What shall you do with +yourself? Will Dudley be at home?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; he’s going somewhere for the day, that has a nervous, +apologetic sort of air about it. I didn’t press for particulars, but +I’m dying to know. I can’t believe he would really take a gay young +person out, and yet, judging by his manner, it might be a real flyer from +Daly’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good old Dudley!... Then I suppose you will go to Lorraine?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I daresay I shall. Good-bye, see you Saturday.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal returned to her work in a meditative mood. She was beginning to wonder why +she had not had any message from Sir Edwin all the week. Had he changed his +mind, or had he possibly forgotten? If he rang her up presently what was she +going to say? +</p> + +<p> +The notion that he had perhaps forgotten was not pleasing; and yet, with all he +must have to think about during the week, it was equally not surprising. As a +matter of fact, it had been a most trying week for all Ministers. +</p> + +<p> +The party was emphatically growing into disfavour, and all brains had to be +utilised to find the most efficacious remedy. Sir Edwin had been very useful in +his suggestions, for he had had considerable practice in getting what he wanted +by artfulness if no straighter mode offered. +</p> + +<p> +His suggestions to His Majesty’s Cabinet were masterpieces of political +trickery, and their adoption was a foregone conclusion in spite of the +Ministers who raised objections. The party had to win back favour somehow, and +at any rate his were the best plans that offered. +</p> + +<p> +But all through the stirring meetings of the week he never once forgot Hal. His +silence was merely an adaptation of the policy he was urging upon his +colleagues. “If I leave her alone till Friday she will get piqued,” +was his thought, “and then she will come.” +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, soon after the luncheon hour he rang her up. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo,” he called. “At last I have got a moment to speak to +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened to all the other moments?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve had a very anxious, worrying week in the House. I’ve +scarcely had time to get my meals. You surely didn’t suppose I had +forgotten you—did you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t suppose either way. It didn’t matter.” +</p> + +<p> +The man at the other end of the wire smiled openly in his empty room. +“Prevaricator,” was his thought “but, by Gad, she’s +game.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, anyhow I hadn’t, and I wasn’t likely to. I only hope +you haven’t made another engagement for Sunday? I’m badly in need +of a long day in the country. Are you still free?” +</p> + +<p> +“It depends—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nonsense; you can’t desert me at the last moment. If I +can’t get that day off to run down to the New Forest, I shall have to go +to a tiresome political luncheon party. Now, be patriotic, and serve your +country by attending to the needs of one of her harassed Ministers.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am always patriotic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then that settles it. I suppose I’d better not call for you. +I’ll pick you up at South Kensington Station at 9.30. Peter will make an +excellent chaperone, so you needn’t worry—good-bye”; and he +rang off, leaving Hal to hang up the receiver, not quite sure whether she had +been trapped or not. +</p> + +<p> +At his end he moved across to a window with the smile still lingering on his +face. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing like making up a woman’s mind for her,” he mused; +“they’re all alike when they are on the edge of the stream, +hesitating about the plunge. Give ’em a little shove, and once +they’re in they swim out boldly enough. The trouble is, when they want to +keep the whole river for themselves and will not brook any other swimmers. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect I’m going to have a devil of a time with Gladys, and +she’ll take a lot of squaring. Women are the deuce when you’re +short of funds. But I can’t help being susceptible, and Hal has caught my +fancy altogether. Dear little girl, I expect she’ll want a big shove yet +before she’ll take the real plunge. But it’s interesting, by Jove! +it’s interesting; and when she looks a veiled defiance at me with those +candid, mischievous eyes of hers, I know I’ve got to win somehow.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal went back to her work, feeling a little as if she had been swept off her +feet; and she was not entirely without misgivings. The possible impropriety of +going out alone with a man for the whole day did not trouble her, but the +nature of the man, she was shrewd enough to perceive, was a doubtful point. +</p> + +<p> +Of course she was perfectly aware that Aunt Judith, for instance, and Dudley, +and probably her mother, had she been alive, would have been scandalised at +such a proceeding; but then she had pluckily fended for herself so long, she +did not consider she was any longer called upon to mould her actions according +to their views. She belonged to the large army of women who have to spend so +much of their time on office chairs that their comparatively few hours of +pleasure have no room for the ordinary conventions that hem round the leisured, +home-walled maiden. +</p> + +<p> +If a treat offered, and it was reasonably within bounds, they took it and were +thankful and gave no thought to the possibly uplifted hands of horror among +possibly restricted relatives. She was one of those who enjoy the freedom of +the American girl, without being of those who, unfortunately, often fall short +of her level-headed characteristics; largely perhaps through those very +uplifted hands which suggest harm, where harm otherwise might never have been +thought of. +</p> + +<p> +It was not, now, any suggestions born of uplifted hands that gave Hal that +faint misgiving. It was that growing doubt concerning the nature of the man, +and a consciousness that she was unduly pleased the treat was actually to take +place—a growing consciousness that in spite of the doubt she cared more +about seeing Sir Edwin Crathie than most men, with a like recognition that this +might seriously endanger her own peace of mind. +</p> + +<p> +It was all very well to go out together on a basis of good-fellowship and +mutual enjoyment, so long as neither cared anything beyond; but what if this +unmistakable attraction he exercised over her deepened and widened? What if the +commonplace, middle-class Hal Pritchard, secretary and typist, fell in love +with Sir Edwin Crathie, the Cabinet Minister, and nephew of Lord St. Ives? +</p> + +<p> +But she thrust the thought away, and apostrophised herself for a silly goose, +who deserved to get hurt if she had not more sense. Was he not twice her age, +and brilliantly clever (so his own party said), and so obviously out of her +range altogether that it would be sheer stupidity to allow herself to feel +anything beyond the frank fellow-ship they now enjoyed? She insisted vigorously +to herself that it would, and went off to have dinner with Lorraine, who was +once more delighting her London audience nightly. +</p> + +<p> +It was a curious thing which occured to both afterwards, that there had been +some indefinable change, observable in each to each, dating from that +particular evening. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine was more contentedly gay than she had been for some time—a +quiet, natural light-heartedness, born of some attainment that was giving her +joy. Hal was not clever enough to actually perceive this, but she did perceive +that a certain restless, anxious indecision of manner and plans had passed +away. For the time being Lorraine was happy in a sense she had not been over +her success. That Alymer Hermon had anything to do with it never entered +Hal’s head. She had treated the whole matter of Lorraine’s +attraction to him with the lightness that seemed its only claim, and scarcely +remembered it at all. +</p> + +<p> +And yet, all the time, it was the young giant who was bringing the soothing and +restfulness into the actress’s storm-tossed life. He was beginning to be +with her constantly—to come to her with all his doings, and his imagings, +and his hopes. And, as she had suspected, natural or unnatural, he was the +companion of all others who gave her the most pleasure at the time. +</p> + +<p> +World-wearied and brain-wearied with her own unsatisfying successes, she found +a new interest in entering into his projects, and scheming and dreaming for his +future instead of her own. +</p> + +<p> +She was quite open to herself about the probability that she would have felt +nothing of the kind had he been merely a giant, or had he been plain. It was +the rare, and indeed remarkable combination of such physical attributes, with +brains, and nobility and an utter absence of all assumption. +</p> + +<p> +She forgot about his youth and a certain natural crudity; and what he lacked in +experience and development she easily balanced with the extraordinary physical +attraction that had never ceased to sway her. +</p> + +<p> +For the rest, the future might go. Her friendship would not hurt him, and his +had become necessary to her. If they dreamed over a volcano, what of it? Most +dreams for such lives as hers usually were in close proximity to sudden +destruction. Waves from nowhere came up and overwhelmed them. Rocks from unseen +heights fell on them and crushed them. If she was wise she would take what the +present offered, and leave the future alone. +</p> + +<p> +For Hal, on the other hand, had developed something of the restlessness that +had fallen from Lorraine. The new element dawning in her life was not a restful +one; neither did it lend itself to her usual spontaneous chaff and gay +badinage. +</p> + +<p> +She told Lorraine about her afternoon drive, without giving half the +particulars she would have done ordinarily; and when Lorraine asked her about +Sunday, she only said she was perhaps going for another run with Sir Edwin. +Lorraine did not press the point, because she was having a day with Alymer, and +was chiefly glad that Hal was happily provided with a companion to take +Dick’s place. +</p> + +<p> +Then she went off to her theatre, and Hal went home, wishing the next day were +Sunday. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<p> +Dudley hardly knew, himself, why he spoke diffidently about his plans for +Sunday, and why he did not tell Hal outright that he was taking Doris Hayward +to a picnic at Marlow, given by mutual friends of his and theirs—friends +of the old vigorous days, when he and Basil Hayward had gone everywhere +together, and Hal had still been a boisterous schoolgirl. Perhaps he felt she +might seem to have been rather unkindly left out. +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact, an invitation to include his sister had been given; but, +for reasons he hardly stopped to face, he chose not to mention it. That was +after he had learnt from a visit to the little Holloway flat that nothing would +persuade Ethel to leave her brother, who had been ailing more than usual of +late, and Doris would accompany him alone. +</p> + +<p> +It had been with a curious mixture of feelings he had heard this. Things were +very pitiful up at the little flat, and though his inmost sympathy had gone out +generously enough to both girls, with a perversity born of narrow insight he +had reserved the deepest of it for Doris. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to him that she was so young to face such circumstances, and at such +an early age to become saddened by the vicissitudes of life. In the depths of +her wide blue eyes he saw unshed tears, and the little droop of her pretty +mouth went straight to his heart. He wanted to gather her up in his arms, and +kiss her and pet her till she was again all sunshine and smiles. +</p> + +<p> +He was not unaware that Ethel probably suffered more, but her way of showing +it, or perhaps hiding it, appealed to him less. Instead of that mute distress +of unshed tears, her quiet eyes wore an inscrutable veil. It was as if the +anguish behind the veil were something too terrible and too sacred to be looked +upon by a workaday world; but Dudley only knew that a wall of reserve was +between him and her trouble. +</p> + +<p> +And her firm, strong mouth had no engaging droop at the corners. It was only if +anything a little firmer, almost to sternness. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley believed that Basil was dying at last, after his weary martyrdom, and he +believed that Ethel knew it; and in some vague way it hurt him that she gave no +sign, and refused to be drawn into any speech concerning his increased +weakness. +</p> + +<p> +Doris, on the other hand, spoke of it in a faltering, tearful voice, adding a +little pitifully that it made it harder for her that Ethel was so distant and +unsympathetic. +</p> + +<p> +In a sense the circumstances nonplussed Dudley altogether. Some inner voice +told him that such a depth of wondrous, unselfish devotion as Ethel showed to +her invalid brother could not live in the same heart with hardness and want of +sympathy; and yet there was the evidence of the swimming, melting eyes and +drooping lips of the younger sister left out in the cold. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it was unfortunate that on that very evening of Dudley’s visit +Ethel had come home rather earlier than her wont, to find Doris not yet +returned from her daily outing, and, in consequence, the fire out and the sick +man shivering with cold. He had looked so dreadfully ill that she had hastened +first to get some brandy to revive him, only to find Doris had forgotten her +promise to get the empty bottle replaced that morning. +</p> + +<p> +In desperation she had hastened to the other little flat on the same floor, +hoping its inmate might chance to have a little to lend. +</p> + +<p> +The tenant was a lonely, harsh-featured spinster, who eked out a precarious +living by teaching music. Ethel knew her slightly, as a gaunt woman who usually +toiled up the stairs with a sort of scornful weariness of herself and +everything else. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that because she was not fashionable, nor striking, nor well-dressed, +she taught mostly in rather second-rate schools, and often had to take long +journeys to her pupils, coming home tired and worn at night to an empty, +comfortless little dwelling, to light her own fire and cook her own evening +meal. +</p> + +<p> +She knew, too, that she was a gentlewoman, the daughter of a poor clergyman, +left penniless, to fight a hard world alone. Had her own home been happier, she +would gladly have asked her to join them sometimes; but the weight of +Basil’s illness, and her own usual condition of weariness, had left the +invitation always unspoken. +</p> + +<p> +“A little brandy,” the music-teacher echoed, with a quick note of +concern; “yes, I believe I have a drop. Is it your brother? Let me come +and see if I can help?” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” Ethel had replied, trying not to allow her voice to +show how much she would have preferred not to accept the proffered help. +“I think I can manage quite well.” +</p> + +<p> +But the gaunt spinster followed her across the little landing obstinately. She +had seen Doris out half an hour before, and knew that she had not yet returned. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you have no fire,” she said, in her somewhat grating voice; +“if you will let me I will light it,” and without more ado she had +procured coals and wood for herself, and was down on her knees before the empty +grate. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel turned away with a sick, helpless feeling over Doris’ selfishness, +and after administering a few drops of brandy, chafed the sick man’s +hands and feet. When Basil felt better he glanced up curiously at the strange, +dried-up-looking female who had just succeeded in persuading a cheerful blaze +to brighten the room. She looked back into his face frankly. +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t mind me,” she informed him; “I’m +only the music-teacher from the opposite flat.” +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to be rather a kind sort of music-teacher,” he said, with +his winsome smile, “even if you do only come from the opposite +flat.” +</p> + +<p> +The hard face relaxed a very little, and she shrugged her shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, it isn’t easy to be kind,” she answered, +“when you don’t stand for much else in the universe but a letter of +the alphabet.” She turned back to her grate and commenced sweeping up the +ashes. +</p> + +<p> +Basil roused himself a little further and looked interested. +</p> + +<p> +“What letter do you stand for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just G.” She gave a low, harsh laugh. “G is the letter that +distinguishes my flat from the others, and it is all I stand for to God or +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see.” His white, pain wrung face looked extraordinarily kind. +“Well, G, I’m very deeply grateful to you for coming across to +light my fire; and I’m glad there happened to be a G in the universe this +afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned her head away sharply, that neither of them might see the sudden, +swift mist that dimmed her eyes, but she only answered: +</p> + +<p> +“All the same, if there had been no G, and no you, the universe would +have had an atom less pain in it, and no one have been any the worse.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s where you’re wrong,” he told her, +“because Ethel couldn’t have done without me, and if you put your +head in at my door occasionally, and just remark to F that G is across the +passage, F will be glad the universe didn’t decide to leave G out of the +alphabet.” +</p> + +<p> +The woman looked at him a moment with a curious expression in her eyes. Then +she said: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if <i>you</i> can take the insult of a maimed, or joyless, or +cursed life like that, it oughtn’t to be so very hard for me to be glad I +happened to be able to come over and light your fire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor so very hard to come again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!…” she hesitated, then said to him, looking half-defiantly +towards Ethel: “Time after time, when I thought you were alone, +I’ve wanted to just look in and see if you were all right. But I +didn’t like to. People don’t take to me as a rule, and I’m… +I’m… well, I’m not an ingratiating sort of person, and I guessed, +probably, you’d all rather do without any help I had to give.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was kind of you to think of us at all,” Ethel said, not quite +sure whether Basil would like her to come in or not. +</p> + +<p> +“You guessed wrong,” was his answer. “<i>I</i> think it would +be very nice of you to look in occasionally. It certainly seems rather absurd +for you to be all alone there, and I all alone here, when we both want a little +company. I’m sure the alphabet was not meant to be so unsociable.” +</p> + +<p> +“It just depends.” +</p> + +<p> +She got up from her kneeling posture on the hearth, and stood, a grotesque +apparition enough, looking at him with her greenish, nondescript eyes. Her +hay-coloured hair was tightly drawn back from a high, bulging forehead, her +eyebrows were so light they scarcely showed at all, while her nose, which +started in a nice straight line, had failed her at the last moment by suddenly +taking an upward turn in an utterly incongruous fashion. She had high +cheek-bones, a parchment skin, and a mouth that was not much more than a slit; +the grotesque effect of the whole being heightened by a long, thin neck, which +she made no effort to cover with a neat high collar, but accentuated by a +half-and-half untidily loose one. +</p> + +<p> +She wore a cheap, ready-made blouse, with absurd little bows tacked on down the +front, which Ethel longed to abolish with one sweep, and her skirt, which had +shrunk considerably in front, sagged in a dejected fashion behind. +</p> + +<p> +Yet to Basil’s kindly eyes, there was something behind it all that was +attractive. For one thing, she was so eminently sincere. One felt she had no +delusions whatever, concerning her appearance or her oddities; and though she +looked out upon life with that scornful, resentful air, she had yet a keener +sense of humour and a clearer brain than most women. Under different +circumstances she might have been a success. +</p> + +<p> +As it was, she appeared to have got into a wrong groove altogether, and, unable +to extricate herself, to have merely become an oddity. Basil, from his couch, +looked up at her with friendly eyes, and she finished: +</p> + +<p> +“One may want a little company, without wanting just any company.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think you will find me even duller than nothing?” and his eyes +twinkled. +</p> + +<p> +“You know I didn’t mean that. You are clever, and well-read, and +probably fastidious. I’m… well, you see what I am! and no good for +anything except trying to restrain horrible children from thumping till they +break the notes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you said you were a music-teacher?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what they call it,” with a dry grimace; “but +when I dare to be honest, I have too much respect for music.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you won’t have to weary your soul restraining me from +thumping anything, so it will be a change to come and talk to me. We’ll +turn the tables, and I’ll try and restrain you from thumping the universe +too hard.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be much more to the point if we thumped together: I, because +I’m not wanted, and it’s an insult to foist me on to mankind +whether I like it or not; and you, because… well, because you are a strong man +cursed with helplessness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, if you come in that particular mood, we’ll just play +football with the bally old universe, so to speak. The main point to me is, +that we take a rise out of the powers that be, by being a source of +entertainment occasionally to each other. As our alphabetical significance in +the general scheme is next door to each other, we may as well get what we can +out of the circumstance.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned aside, looking half humorous and half satirical. +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds well enough as you say it, but I expect the powers are +sneering diabolically at us both. However, if you’ll let me try to be +some sort of company, I’ll come across again soon—” +</p> + +<p> +A latch-key was heard in the door, and a moment later Doris entered. When she +saw the two women she looked taken aback, and stammered something about not +knowing the time. +</p> + +<p> +“When I got in Basil’s fire was out, and he was perished with +cold,” Ethel said coldly; “and as I had to go to Miss... Miss +-” +</p> + +<p> +“Call it G,” put in the music-teacher, with a comical twist of her +mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“—for brandy, she came over and lit the fire for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t help not knowing the time,” Doris murmured in a +low, grumbling voice, and went away to take her hat off. +</p> + +<p> +The music-teacher glanced from one to the other, as if about to say something, +but changed her mind and moved towards the door. On the threshold she looked +back, and said in her short, dry way: +</p> + +<p> +“If F wants anything of G, G will be ready to come instantly.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” Basil and Ethel replied together, the former adding, +“And don’t forget to put your head in at the door occasionally, by +way of a reminder.” +</p> + +<p> +Ethel said no more to Doris, because she felt it useless, but her silence as +they prepared the evening meal together signified her disapproval. She was +deeply worried about Basil’s failing strength, and longed to speak of it +to someone who could understand; but felt such selfish forgetfulness as Doris +showed shut her out from any sympathetic discussion. +</p> + +<p> +Then Dudley came, and while Doris looked woebegone and sad, Ethel’s face +was a little stern with stress and anxiety. Basil tried valiantly to be +cheerful enough for all three, but the effort cost him almost more strength +than he could muster. +</p> + +<p> +After Dudley had gone, carrying with him the image of Doris’s plaintive +prettiness and pathetic solitariness, and thinking gladly of the pleasure it +would be to take her to Marlow on Sunday, Ethel slipped on her knees beside +Basil’s couch, overcome for a moment by the burden of his suffering, and +the difficulties of their lives. +</p> + +<p> +Often after Dudley had been, and some little act or glance or word had seemed +to emphasise the barrier between them, her yearning over Basil had broken down +her courage. When she had lost them both, what would become of her then? was +the question that utterley undid her, finding no reply beyond a sense of empty +darkness. +</p> + +<p> +She told herself she would go right away to another land—to some far +colony—where she could begin life afresh, with her haunting memories kept +in the background. She would not stay to see the awakening come to Dudley, if +Doris were his wife, nor struggle through the long months at the General Post +Office, when the end of each day’s labour brought no welcoming smile from +Basil. +</p> + +<p> +She would not settle down alone in a dingy little flat as their opposite +neighbour, to become a mere letter of the alphabet to God and man, surrounded +by countless other cyphers of as little meaning and account. She would go away +to some new, young land, with her vigour and her courage, and carve out a path +with some semblance of reality and value. +</p> + +<p> +Only, could she ever get away from the awful emptiness that would come to her +with the loss of Basil, and the utter lack of any incentive to carry on the +unequal struggle? +</p> + +<p> +Basil laid his hand on her bowed head, and for a little while seemed unable to +speak. Then he steadied his voice, and rallied her with his brave, whimsical +thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Wouldn’t the dear old pater have enjoyed G? She’s just the +kind of oddity he doted on. Fancy her teaching music of all things. It must be +only scales and exercises. I think she’s splendid to see the incongruity +herself, and refuse to call it music when she dare be honest. What a grotesque +figurehead she looks, chum, doesn’t she? I thoroughly enjoyed talking to +her.” +</p> + +<p> +But Ethel could not answer to his cheeriness just yet. +</p> + +<p> +“Basil, why are so many humans just mere letters of the alphabet in the +general scheme?” +</p> + +<p> +She had slid into a sitting posture now, and leaned her head against his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t matter so much about the men; they can go out into the +world and make friends by the way, and become something more if they wish; but +what of the single women, who have to work for their living, and have nothing +much to look forward to but a sort of terror as to what will become of them +when they can work no more? If you could see some of them at the office, with +that drawn, dried-up, joyless look, scraping and saving and starving for dread +of the years ahead: it’s so unfair, so grossly, hideously, cruelly +unfair.” +</p> + +<p> +“It perhaps won’t be when you see all round it, chum. It is so +obvious we only see one side of things here. When we see the other side it will +all look so different.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, but in the meantime they are here, now, in our very midst, all +<i>these unwanted</i> women. If you saw as much of them as I do, I think you +would feel even the letter had better not have been supplied. A blank would +have meant so much less suffering. A penniless woman without attractiveness, +and with neither husband, child, nor father wanting her, is such an anomaly. +She just drags on, hating her loneliness, dreading and fearing the future or +illness, merely existing because she is called upon to do so for no apparent +reason.” +</p> + +<p> +“But she can always make friends, chum. If she is kind and cheerful and +hopeful she will soon win love of some sort.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… yes… but, Basil, to be all that, when one is weighed down with the +inequality of chance and a horror of the future calls for a heroine; and Life +didn’t bother to make many of them heroines. She doesn’t seem to +have paid much attention to them at all. Orphans and widows and sick people she +remembers; but the lonely, ageing, hardened, unwanted spinster! It sometimes +seems to me it is just sentimentality to be persuaded everything is all right. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t believe it is all right. There’s too much useless, +silent aching, and useless, passionate resentment over circumstances that it +seems should either never have been, or should be remedied if any Guiding Hand +has power. I have determination and I’m strong, Basil; the future +doesn’t frighten me badly yet, but when you are gone, I feel as if the +loneliness might half kill me, and as if then I ought to have the right to +become a blank if I wish, since I was never consulted about becoming a letter +in the great alphabet.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not seek to stay her, knowing with his deep insight that to get such +thoughts spoken was better than to brood inwardly; and because of his +unshakable faith in her courage, he was not alarmed by them. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he could not offer any comfort. Had not the enigma of useless pain racked +and torn his soul piteously through the long years of his illness, leaving him +indeed with a wonderful courage, but not with a theory that would fit the needs +of suffering mankind? He could bear his own ills, because he had trained and +taught himself to take them as a soldier takes the miseries of a hard campaign; +but the general sum of suffering was another matter; and he shrank from saying +either that suffering was sent by God to do good, or that it was necessary to +the human race. +</p> + +<p> +All he knew was simply that ills bravely borne seemed aided by some mysterious +power outside their bearers; whereas the craven and the grumbler seemed but to +add to their own burden. For the rest, though he would not say it for the pain +it gave her, the knowledge of his growing weakness was already a solace to him, +and he watched with hidden eagerness for the day that should set him free. At +least a corpse was no drain upon the slender purse of a beloved sister; and the +gnawing ache of his helplessness and uselessness would be stilled for ever. +</p> + +<p> +If only Dudley had cared for her? From his vantage-ground of the looker-on, +with his unnaturally sharpened sensitiveness, he knew perfectly how matters +stood and how hopeless the desire seemed. +</p> + +<p> +Dear old Dudley, his life-long friend, would probably marry Doris and learn his +mistake too late; and Ethel, with her fine nature, would go to some one else. +</p> + +<p> +Well, one could not change either one’s own little circle of fate, or the +universe, just to suit oneself; one could only hope for the best, while there +was still room for hope, and cultivate that soldier-spirit, undaunted even in a +losing fight. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime there was the lonely, unwanted spinster opposite, with her +immediate claim of nearness and loneness; and, as if to direct her thoughts +into another channel, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“You know, chum, I believe G was quite serious about wanting to come in +here sometimes. Why not find out which afternoons she comes home early, and let +her come and get tea and have it with me here. Then Doris need not worry about +getting back in time.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if you are feeling weak it will tire you so, Basil, to have a +stranger. You will feel obliged to talk to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t think I shall; and it would be nice to feel she was +rather glad not to be a blank after all. Let her come one afternoon and try. +Perhaps one way of grappling with the problem of human suffering—the best +way—is to try and alleviate the atom of pain that is nearest each one of +us.” +</p> + +<p> +She assented to please him, and then kissed his forehead with a lingering, +adoring tenderness, marvelling that such a sufferer could so think for others. +Then she went quietly to bed, feeling, as the gaunt spinster had tried to put +it, “If <i>you</i> can bear your ills so, surely I might manage to bear +mine more courageously.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<p> +The next evening Ethel crossed the little landing to the lonely flat, and gave +the invitation from F to G. +</p> + +<p> +A good deal to her amusement, she found the gaunt spinster knitting +babies’ socks, with a basket containing several completed pairs beside +her. She picked a pair up, and said with a kind little smile: +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly expected to find you doing this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not,” in a short way, that sounded uncivil without being +so. “It’s an occupation about as much suited to me as teaching +music.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder why you do it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do it for bread, naturally. They bring in a few shillings. It is just +a fluke that I can make them at all. I know as much about a needle ordinarily +as a flying-machine; but I learnt to knit once under protest. I sprained my +ankle and was laid up for some weeks, and I told the doctor I should go stark, +staring mad if he kept me shut up in a house doing nothing. He said knitting +was a very good preventive to madness, and he’d send his wife along. She +was a great missionary worker, and she pounced on me like a hawk, and started +me off knitting socks for little gutta-percha babies somewhere in the +Antipodes, almost before I knew where I was. Such insanity!… as if white babies +wanted to be bothered with socks, much less black ones! I told the doctor it +was adding insult to injury to allow it to appear I hadn’t more common +sense than to occupy my time with garments for the heathen. As if there +weren’t too many garments in the world already, half the community +over-dressed, and ready to sell its soul for more. ‘Leave them clean and +healthy and naked, that’s my advice, doctor,’ I told him; +‘and if you weren’t afraid of your wife you’d +agree.’” +</p> + +<p> +Ethel leaned against the table, enjoying the rugged face and comically twisted +mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“But I thought you were a clergyman’s daughter?” she said. +</p> + +<p> +“So I am; but I don’t see why I shouldn’t be credited with a +little common sense even then. I know they haven’t much as a rule; what +with their sewing-classes, and praying-classes, and mothers’ meetings +smothering up their minds till they can’t see beyond their noses. I never +had much to do with that part of it. They didn’t like me well enough in +the village to want to pray with me nor sew with me; which was just as well, +for if I’d prayed, I should have implored the Almighthy to open their +minds a little, and widen their views, and give them each a good thick slab of +devilry to counteract their general soppiness and short-sighted stupidity. +Ugh!… to hear some of those soppy folks praying to be delivered from the Evil +One, and to have strength given them to cast the devil from their hearts! Just +as if the devil had time to bother with that sanctimonious, chicken-hearted +crew. He wasn’t very likely to do them the compliment of acknowledging +their existence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did no one do any parish work then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, the doctor’s wife did most of it. And when a new doctor +came they daren’t for the life of them have a word to say to him, for +fear of the next prayer-meeting, when she would preside. You see, she’d +pray for the lost sheep in the fold for about half an hour, and how he went to +the wolf for healing, which was the new doctor—instead of the saviour, +which was her husband, the old one, and drew lurid pictures of the fiery +poisons and deadly draughts the wolf gave the poor sheep to kill him instead of +cure him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what became of the new doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, of course he had to go—which was a pity, as he was the first +person with a sense of humour who ever entered that village as a resident. One +could positively talk sense to him, without being regarded as a lunatic. As a +rule, you had to feign imbecility there if you didn’t want to be +considered mad. I had just made up my mind to learn to knit men’s ties, +instead of babies’ socks, when he departed”—and she looked at +Ethel with a grimness, and at the same time a lurking humour, that made it +quite impossible for Ethel to keep her face. +</p> + +<p> +“And did you change your mind then?” seeing the gaunt spinster was +not in the least annoyed at her for laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I stuck to the babies’ socks. I thought on the whole it was +less incongruous for a woman with a face like mine to work for a baby than a +man. And that’s the nearest I ever got to a love affair. Just to wonder +if I’d knit a man a tie, and change my mind, and knit socks for a little +black heathen whelp instead.” +</p> + +<p> +“O dear!” said Ethel, with a little smothered gasp, “you +don’t mind if I laugh, do you? You really are very amusing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Amusing!…” with a little humorous snort. “Well, I +don’t mind amusing you; but I do think it’s about the most +monstrous thing in the way of a practical joke I know, for Nature to create a +creature like me, with a natural inclination to want a mate. Just as if any man +could bear to get up every morning of his life and see me there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense,” Ethel exclaimed. “Basil thinks you are very +attractive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does he?” drily. Then, with a sudden, swift humour, “Perhaps +it’s a pity I didn’t learn to knit ties after all!” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him about why you didn’t instead—and about the village +and the doctor’s wife. He’ll be so interested. You will be a +positive godsend to him. May I tell him to expect you to tea tomorrow?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Tell him, to add to the humour of the situation, I’ll bring +across a baby’s sock to knit. We’re both so likely to have a mutual +interest in babies.” +</p> + +<p> +Ethel kept Basil entertained most of the evening with the account of her +interview, rather to the annoyance of Doris, who, for some vague reason, was +not at all pleased about the new acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it was because, on one or two occasions when she had remained out later +than she should, she had met the music-teacher and encountered a fierce and +disapproving glare. Doris was quite willing to be relieved of her charge +occasionally, but she did not at all appreciate the idea of a strong-minded +individual, who would certainly not hesitate not only to condemn her +selfishness, but to look her scorn of it. +</p> + +<p> +On the evening of Dudley’s visit, when she first found the gaunt spinster +at the flat, she had gone to bed feeling out of sorts with herself and all the +world. +</p> + +<p> +She hated having been caught in her selfish forgetfulness; she hated the idea +of the opposite tenant coming in to help Ethel; she hated being Doris Hayward +and living in a stuffy Holloway flat. It caused her to turn her thoughts more +seriously to a way of escape, and, as a natural sequence, to how much +Dudley’s attentions might mean. +</p> + +<p> +And further, if they were meant in earnest, how she would feel about marrying +him. She made no pretence to herself of loving him; personally, she thought +love mostly sentimental nonsense; but she liked being with him, and she liked +going about with him. +</p> + +<p> +On the other hand, he was not rich, and she hated poverty. If she waited a +little longer, a richer man might turn up?… or, again, he might not, and Dudley +might change his mind. Certainly it was very awkward to know which was the +wisest course, but in the meantime it would be just as well to keep Dudley +attracted. +</p> + +<p> +To this end she gave her hair an extra curl on Saturday evening, and arose +betimes on Sunday morning for further preparations. Ethel took a bow off her +hat, ironed, and remade it, and finally put the finishing touches to her +appearance. +</p> + +<p> +“You look very nice,” she said. “I hope you’ll have a +splendid day. Run and show yourself to Basil.” +</p> + +<p> +Basil told her she would certainly be the belle of the luncheon party, and +finally she departed feeling very pleased with herself. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley was waiting for her at Paddington, and his eyes showed plainly that he +echoed Basil’s opinion, though he did not actually express it in words. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you leave Basil?” he asked. “I wish I felt happier +about him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is much brighter altogether. I really think Ethel might have come, as +the tenant of the opposite flat would have been only too pleased to go and sit +with him. She never seems to have any pleasure, does she? But it is really her +own fault. I would have stayed at home today if she would have let me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’m rather glad she wouldn’t; though I am sorry she +could not have had the treat as well. We are going to have a lovely day, in +spite of its being so late in the year.” +</p> + +<p> +As it was only a small birthday luncheon, and the others of the party had +either gone overnight or lived near, they were easily able to get a compartment +to themselves, and Dudley was conscious of a pleasurable quickening of his +pulses at the prospect of the long tête-à-tête. +</p> + +<p> +And indeed it was not surprising, for Doris looked adorably pretty and winsome, +and many a wiser man might have shared his pleased anticipation. Moreover, +Doris was not in the least stupid or vapid, however selfish and shallow her +nature; and if she chose she could be a very pleasant companion. +</p> + +<p> +And today she did so choose, hovering still in indecision over the subject +that had filled her thoughts often of late. +</p> + +<p> +Finally, it chanced that during much of the day they were thrown together, and +all the time she thought how nice it was to be of so much consequence to any +one; while he enjoyed again the sense of her clinging, engaging dependence. +</p> + +<p> +And when they were once more alone in a compartment, steaming back to town, it +was not in the least surprising that, almost before he knew it, Dudley was +pouring into her ears a tale of love. +</p> + +<p> +True, it was a very calm and collected tale, but it was none the less genuine +for that; and from the bottom of his heart he believed that she, above all +women, was the one he desired as his wife. Transports of any description were +foreign to his nature. He imagined they always would be. +</p> + +<p> +Joyous excitement and enthusiasm he left to Hal, except such enthusiasm as he +kept for old ruins and ancient architecture. Still, it warmed all his blood and +quickened all his pulses to have his way at last, and hold Doris in his arms, +and try to kiss away the unshed tears and the little droop from her lips. +</p> + +<p> +He took her home from the station, but did not go in because of the lateness of +the hour, and the probability that Basil was just getting off to sleep; only +kissing her again with a certain old-fashioned, deferential air and promising +to come in the course of a day or two to see Ethel and Basil. +</p> + +<p> +Doris let herself in with somewhat mixed feelings. +</p> + +<p> +She had had a delightful day and thoroughly enjoyed it, but, now that the die +was cast, and the difficult point settled, she found herself beginning to be +more critical of Dudley. +</p> + +<p> +She wished he were not quite so old-fashioned, nor so good. She was a little +afraid she would find his sterling qualities distinctly boring, and his high +standard a difficult and tiresome one to bother with. +</p> + +<p> +And then, of course, there was Hal. Hal never had liked her and probably never +would. Not that it mattered very much. In fact, it was rather pleasant than +otherwise to think of Hal’s discomfiture and dismay, Doris wondered if +she would expect to live with them, and made up her mind then and there, very +decisively, that she would never agree to anything of the kind. +</p> + +<p> +She had suffered quite enough from Ethel’s superiority, without +encountering a second edition in Hal. As she thought of it, and of how she +would checkmate Hal’s possible plans to make her home with them, she +smiled to herself a little cruelly in the darkness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<p> +It was Hal also who filled Dudley’s thoughts as he made his way homeward. +In her attitude to his engagement he was afraid she was going to personate what +is known as a “tough nut to crack.” He wondered if she would be +waiting up for him, and what in the world she would say when he told her. +</p> + +<p> +As it happened, she was waiting, sitting over the remains of a little fire she +had lighted for company. The reason she felt the need of company, and the +reason she was waiting, was the fact of a perturbed frame of mind she was +endeavouring to soothe, until he came in to give the final touch. +</p> + +<p> +She was perturbed because of the change in Sir Edwin Crathie, and the closing +scene of a somewhat eventful day. Until tea-time he had been as gay and +lighthearted and inconsequent as ever. +</p> + +<p> +Their lunch in the New Forest had been an immense success, and both had enjoyed +it thoroughly. On their way home they further enjoyed a big tea at an hotel. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, the drive had been delightful. The glory of the autumn tints; the +delicious stillness of the autumn weather, and the sunny coolness of the +atmosphere had all contributed to make the day perfect. After her long hours of +office work and monotony, Hal was only the better tuned to enjoy it, and as she +leant back in blissful ease in the luxurious motor, she thought what a goose +she would have been to let prudish thoughts influence her to forgo it. +</p> + +<p> +Then, once more, after tea, he had deliberately moved his chair nearer to hers, +and struck a personal note that she found it difficult to combat. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know,” he told her blandly, “you’re the dearest +little woman I’ve met for a long time? I don’t know when I’ve +enjoyed a whole day with any one so much as this.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s just the novelty,” she said, adopting a note of +unconcern to head him off; “most of your friends flatter and try to +please you. It amuses me more to contradict you; that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s all, is it! Well, I dare say if I found a special joy +in being contradicted, I could easily humour the fancy without going for a +whole day into the country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ver likely—only, since you wanted your day in the country, you +kill two birds with one stone, don’t you see?” +</p> + +<p> +“And supposing I badly wanted something else from you besides +contradiction!… a little affection, for instance!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’m giving you a lot of that thrown in,” gaily, but she +pushed her chair a little farther away; “if I didn’t rather like +you I shouldn’t bother to contradict you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rather like me!… that’s very cold—I, a great deal more than +<i>rather</i> like you.” +</p> + +<p> +“That, of course, is different,” with a jaunty air, that made them +both laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Still, I don’t think we can stop at ‘rather liking’, +now—do you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see why we shouldn’t; we are getting on very +nicely.” +</p> + +<p> +He got up suddenly, and walked away to the window. In his heart of hearts he +was a little nonplussed. Of course they couldn’t stop where they were, he +argued; but how, with a girl of Hal’s practical level-headedness get any +farther? +</p> + +<p> +Then he remembered he was a firm believer in swift and sudden measures, and +usually found they fitted all contingencies. So he swung round, crossed the +room, put his hand on her shoulders, and boldly kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +“There,” he said—“that is how I ‘rather +like’ you.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was quite taken aback—almost too taken aback to speak; but a red spot +burned in each cheek, and a sudden flash seemed to gleam angrily in her eyes. +Her quick brain, however, took in the position instantly. If she grew indignant +and melodramatic, he would merely laugh at her. +</p> + +<p> +Of course he knew she must be perfectly aware that men often kissed a girl who +stood to them in her position, without thinking much of it. To make a fuss +would be rather absurd. On the other hand, of course, he had to be +disillusioned concerning what he apparently supposed would be her feelings on +the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“I call that bad taste,” she said coolly. “You might have +given me a sporting chance to let you know beforehand I should object.” +He looked about to repeat the action, but she edged away from him. “Of +course I know lots of girls don’t mind, but that’s nothing to do +with you and me. I do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you mind?” He felt rather small before the directness of +her eyes, and tried to bluster himself on to his former level. +“It’s very silly of you, especially nowadays. There’s no harm +in a kiss, is there?” +</p> + +<p> +“None that I know of, but I think we were getting on very nicely without +it. We won’t risk spoiling things. Come along, I’m longing to be +off”; and she moved towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you angry with me?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; very; but if you’ll promise not to do it again I’ll try +to forget. If you transgress further, we shall just have to leave off being +friends—that’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +He took his seat in the motor beside her in silence, and Peter whizzed them +away at a good speed. +</p> + +<p> +Hal, enjoying the motion, kept her face averted, and drank in the lovely, fresh +country air. +</p> + +<p> +Presently a hand stole firmly over hers. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not to be angry with me any more, little woman. I’m +afraid I was rather a cad, but you’ve got such a fascinating mouth. +I’m sorry.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked frankly into his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, don’t do it again, then.” +</p> + +<p> +He tried to look no less frankly back, but it was as if some forbidden thought +flashed across his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll try not,” he said, a trifle lamely, and looked away. +</p> + +<p> +He still kept possession of her hand, however, until she resolutely drew it +from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Will Brother Dudley be in?” he asked, when they drew up in +Bloomsbury. +</p> + +<p> +“No; he won’t get back much before nine.” +</p> + +<p> +He took her latch-key from her, and opened the door, entering himself, instead +of taking her proffered hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Which way?” he asked, and she opened the door into their +sitting-room. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll show you Brother Dudley’s photograph now you’re +here,” she said in a frank voice—“and the very latest of +Lorraine Vivian. I wish I had one of Apollo; but I’ve never asked for +one, because I always make a point of pretending not to admire him.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s only pretence, then?” he asked, glancing at the others +as if his thoughts were elsewhere. +</p> + +<p> +“It can only be. One is bound to admire him at heart. Nature seldom made +a fairer gentleman, and it would be mere perversity to deny it, except, as I +do, for his good.” +</p> + +<p> +Then suddenly she saw he was scarcely listening to her, and looking at the +photographs without seeing them, and instinctively she moved away, feeling a +little at loss. The next moment he had caught her shoulders, and kissed her +again. +</p> + +<p> +“I said I’d try, and so I have, but it’s no use. Little +woman, don’t be prudish; kiss me back again.” +</p> + +<p> +But she pushed him away, and in the firelight he saw she was very white and +determined. +</p> + +<p> +“I asked you not to. It is much worse taste still now.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it isn’t—don’t be silly. Why shouldn’t I +kiss you? I... I... have got awfully fond of you, and I know you like me +somewhere down in your heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall cease to do so from this moment.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare you to. Hal, if you like me, why not take the sweets that offer? +I’ll be bound you’ve never been kissed in your life as I will kiss +you. Don’t be prudish. Let me teach you.” +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to hesitate a second, in indecision as to what was her best course +to withstand him, and, seizing the opportunity, he suddenly caught her in his +arms and kissed her on the lips with swift, eager kisses. Then, not giving her +time to speak her resentment, he snatched up his hat and moved to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be angry,” he said. “I did try, honour bright, +but it’s no use; good-bye. I must see you again soon”; and he went +out, closing the door behind him. +</p> + +<p> +For some minutes Hal stood quite still, feeling a little dazed. She saw him +cross the pavement, give some directions to Peter, and then drive away without +a backward glance. She stood still a little longer, then slowly took off her +hat, threw it on the sofa, ran her fingers through her hair and sat down. +</p> + +<p> +After a little, the emptiness of the room seemed to oppress her, for though it +was not cold, she jumped up and put a match to the fire. Then the landlady came +in with her supper. +</p> + +<p> +“’Ad a nice day, miss?” she asked pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Very nice. How’s Johnnie? Did you get to see him?” alluding +to a small son boarded out at Highgate for his health. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I went up to tea with ’im. ’E looks years better +already.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m very glad.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal sat down to her supper with a preoccupied air, and instead of having a +little chat, she relapsed into silence, and the landlady departed. She felt +vaguely that something had upset entirely the even tenor of her mind, and she +wanted to think. Any other Sunday evening she would have told the landlady +something about her motor-ride, for she and Dudley had now been in the same +rooms for seven years, and it is quite a fallacy to condemn all London +landladies as grasping, bad-tempered tyrants. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was quite fond of Mrs. Carr, and had found her unwearingly thoughtful and +attentive. But tonight she wanted to think, and was glad to be alone again, +almost immediately returning to her arm chair over the fire. +</p> + +<p> +She was conscious, in a vague, uncertain way, that though Sir Edwin had kissed +her because he cared for her, he could not have acted so had he cared in an +upright, honest-hearted manner. She attracted him, and he wanted all the +pleasure he could get out of the attraction, but there, no doubt, it ended. +</p> + +<p> +For the rest, he was Sir Edwin Crathie, Cabinet Minister, and member of a +proud, patrician family. She was Hal Pritchard, secretary, typist, and +occasional journalist at the office of a leading London paper. +</p> + +<p> +She grew restless, and commenced roaming round the room. Her knowledge of life, +as it is lived near its teeming, throbbing, working centre, warned her that the +new turn of their friendship held danger. If she was wise, she would shun the +danger, and go back to her old life before he had come into it. She would +firmly and resolutely refuse to see him again. +</p> + +<p> +To do so without regret was impossible. Now that the friendship seemed about to +cease, she realised it had meant more than she knew. She held her face in her +hands, and her cheeks tingled at the memory of the last eager kiss. +</p> + +<p> +She was woman enough to know it was good to be kissed like that by a man who, +even if his morals and principles left much to be desired, was still very much +a man, and had won a distinction that made most women proud of far less +attention than he had shown her. +</p> + +<p> +Still?— +</p> + +<p> +In a different sense she was struggling in a net of circumstances something +like Lorraine’s. Lorraine wanted to do the right thing, or, at any rate, +the sporting thing. +</p> + +<p> +So did Hal. +</p> + +<p> +In a world full of temptations, and backsliding, and much suffering thereby, +the sporting thing for the strong woman is to stand to her guns. If Hal dallied +with Sir Edwin now, she felt she would be deserting her post. At the +judgment-bar of her own heart, which, after all, matters far more than the +judgment-bar of public opinion, she would be allowing herself to compromise for +the sake of the fleeting, dangerous pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +She stopped short by the window, and stared out into the gloomy, lamplit +street. And it crossed her mind to remember the bitter price so many women had +paid for that dalliance and compromise, so many now probably gazing out with +dull eyes into gloomy streets, hopeless, reckless, and joyless. +</p> + +<p> +Yes; dalliance and compromise were mistakes. The real pluck was the sporting +spirit that stood to its guns, even if it cost a big and wearisome effort. She +would not dally. She would answer to her own Best, and try to go on her +steadfast way. +</p> + +<p> +After all, she had Dudley and Lorraine. It was good to have a brother all to +oneself, who was incontestably a dear, in spite of a little priggishness and +narrowness. He would be home soon, and then they would have a last chat over +the fire together; and that would help to renew her in her determination to cut +the dangerous friendship adrift. +</p> + +<p> +She leaned back in the chair a little wearily, and waited for the welcome sound +of his key in the latch. She wished he would come quickly, because she did not +quite like the way her mind kept reverting to those eager kisses. The memory +had the danger of making most other thoughts seem thin and dull; and she +wondered how she was going to replace a friendship that had been so full of +interest and enjoyment. +</p> + +<p> +If she had dared, she would like to have persuaded herself that he cared for +her in the real way; and her cheeks glowed, and her heart thumped a little at +the thought of all the real way meant. But her practical side told her only too +decidedly that this was not the case. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps he was not the sort of man who could care in the real way at all. He +was too selfish, and grasping, and ambitious by nature. That he was interesting +and a delightful companion as well did not help matters. Men were very often +all these things together, but the selfish, ambitious, unscrupulous side +usually outweighed all the rest in big questions that affected their whole +lives. +</p> + +<p> +Then she remembered that many of the girls she knew—quite nice, jolly +girls—would have taken the fun that offered, and not bothered about +anything beyond the present. Still, that did not affect her own particular +case. +</p> + +<p> +One had to try and live up to one’s own ideals, not other people’s, +and in her inmost heart she knew that she thought but poorly of the girls who +run foolish risks for the sake of a little extra pleasure and gratification, +just as she thought poorly of the man who amused himself, trifling with a +girl’s affections, to pass a little time. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the welcome sound of Dudley’s key, and she sat up and turned an +eager face to the door to greet him. +</p> + +<p> +He came in quietly, and returned the greeting with his usual calm, +undemonstrative appreciation; only, he did not look at her, nor ask her any +questions about her day. +</p> + +<p> +The supper was still waiting for him, and he took a few mouthfuls, in a +preoccupied manner, with his face turned away. Hal asked him about the +day’s outing, wondering not a little at his manner. He seemed anxious, +and somewhat ill at ease, and she observed that he did not eat anything to +speak of. +</p> + +<p> +At last he got up and came to her side near the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Aren’t you going to sit down?” she asked. “I thought a +little fire looked so cosy.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not seem to hear her, for instead of replying he coughed nervously, +cleared his throat, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve something to tell you, Hal—a piece of news.” +</p> + +<p> +She waited, watching him with a puzzled, curious air. Then, without any further +preamble, he finished abruptly: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m—I’m—engaged to be married.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal gave a gasp, and became suddenly taut with amazement and incredulity. +“You’re—engaged—to—be—married!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; you’re not very surprised, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +A sudden, awful fear seemed to envelop and clutch at her. +</p> + +<p> +“Who to?” she asked, a little hoarsely? +</p> + +<p> +“To Doris Hayward.” +</p> + +<p> +For some reason he seemed unable to look at her. Vaguely he knew he had dealt +her a blow, and that it was of a nature he could not soften. +</p> + +<p> +Hal stared hard at the fire, then suddenly started to her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t mean it,” she exclaimed, forgetting to be +circumspect. “You couldn’t possibly think seriously of marrying +Doris Hayward?” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly he stiffened. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know why you speak of it in that way. Certainly I am +serious. It is hardly a question I should joke about.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a tense silence, then Hal turned to the sofa and picked up her hat as +if she were a little dazed. She seemed suddenly to have nothing to say, and she +knew herself to be no good at prevarication. To congratulate him seemed an +impossibility just yet. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I know you have never cared for Doris,” he said; +“but probably you did not know her well enough. I hope you will soon see +you have misjudged her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so,” she said lamely. +“Good-night—I—I—hadn’t thought about your getting +married. I must get used to the idea. I—” she paused in sudden, +swift distress. “Good-night; of course I hope you’ll be happy, and +all that,” and she went hurriedly out, and up to her own room. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<p> +When Hal reached her room she sat down on the bed in the dark, and stared at +the dim square of the window. She was feeling stunned, and as if her brain +would not work properly. It grasped the significance of old, familiar objects +as usual, but seemed quite unable to grip and understand the something strange +and new which had suddenly come into being. She remembered she had waited for +Dudley to come with soothing for a perturbed frame of mind, and instead, he had +brought her—<i>this</i>. +</p> + +<p> +What could it mean? Surely, surely, not that Doris Hayward was to rob her of +her brother. +</p> + +<p> +A wave of swift and sudden loneliness seemed to envelop her. The blackness of +the night closed in upon her, and desolation swept across her soul. +</p> + +<p> +“If only it had been Ethel,” was the vague, uncertain thought: +“any one in the world almost but Doris.” +</p> + +<p> +And again, +</p> + +<p> +“Why had Dudley been so incredibly blind to Doris’s real nature? +Why had he of all men been caught by a pretty face? Was it possible he thought +his life would need no other help and comfort but that of a charming exterior +in his wife?” +</p> + +<p> +How childlike he seemed again to his young sister’s practical, worldly +knowledge. Of course he knew almost nothing of women, buried in his musty old +architectural lore, and giving most of his brain to the contemplation of +ancient ruins and edifices. +</p> + +<p> +He had looked up from his books, and Doris had smiled at him, that diabolically +winsome, innocent smile of hers; and something in his heart, not quite +smothered and likewise not healthily developed, had warmed into sudden, +surprised pleasure, and straightway he thought himself in love. Hal was sure of +one thing, that if Doris had not decided it would suit her plans to be +Dudley’s wife, the idea would not have occured to him. +</p> + +<p> +After all, what did he want with a wife for years to come, going along so +contentedly and placidly with his books and his thirst for knowledge, and the +peacefulness of their sojourn with Mrs. Carr? No servant troubles, no +housekeeping worries, no taxes, no gas and electric-light bills; everything +done for them, and for company each other. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, of course, it was all Doris’s doing. She wanted to get away from the +dingy flat and the poverty, and she had hit upon Dudley as a way out. +</p> + +<p> +Hal got up suddenly with a bursting feeling. Of course she did not even love +him, would not even try to change her nature to become more in touch with his, +would not trouble in the least what obstacles stood between any real and deep +understanding. Perhaps she was not even capable of love, but in any case her +affections could not have been given to any one as quiet, and studious, and +old-fashioned as Dudley. +</p> + +<p> +She went to the window and threw it open that she might lean out and breathe +the open air. Her head burned and ached, and her eyes smarted with a +smouldering fire in her brain. She felt more and more how entirely it must have +been Doris’s doing. Doris had smiled at him, and confided in him, and +managed first to convey a pathetic picture of her own loneliness, and then to +suggest how happy her life might be with him. +</p> + +<p> +And of course Dudley was all chivalry at heart, and trusting, and +tender-hearted; that was one reason why he had always deplored her, +Hal’s, boyish independence and determination to fend for herself. He did +not understand the vigorous, enterprising, working woman. +</p> + +<p> +Immersed in his books and his studies, he had allowed himself to be influenced +largely by caricatures, and by the noisy stir of the platform woman. But he +understood the Doris type, or thought he did, and placed their engaging +dependence before such spirited resolution as her own and Ethel’s. +</p> + +<p> +And how to help him? How, now, to thwart the carrying out of Doris’ +cleverly carried scheme. +</p> + +<p> +Her first thought was Ethel and Basil. She would go to them, and appeal to them +to help her. +</p> + +<p> +And then she remembered that “blood is thicker than water.” How +could they thwart their own sister; and in any case what would Dudley ever see +in it but a persecution that would intensify his affection? One hint that Doris +was victimised, and she knew Dudley well enough to realise he would only marry +her the more quickly, whether he had learned the truth or not. +</p> + +<p> +Opposition of any sort would probably do far more harm than good at present. +There was nothing for it but to meet the blow with the best face possible, and +hope time might yet bring release. +</p> + +<p> +Then her thoughts went back to Sir Edwin, and quite suddenly and unaccountably +she longed to tell him about it. He would be interested for her sake, and he +would cheer her up, and make her hopeful in spite of herself. +</p> + +<p> +And yet— +</p> + +<p> +No; to see him again, feeling as she felt now, would only mean to see him in a +mood of weakness, that might make her less able to withstand him. +</p> + +<p> +She must rely only on Lorraine and Dick, and try to stand by her previous +determination. She would see Lorraine directly she left the office the next +day, and in the meantime she would try and hide from Dudley the extent of her +dismay. +</p> + +<p> +But in spite of her resolve, when she rested her head on the pillow, the hot +tears squeezed through her closed eyelids, and in dumb misery she told herself +Dudley was lost to her for ever. +</p> + +<p> +She awoke the next morning with a dull, aching sense of misery that had robbed +the sunshine of its warmth, and the day of its brightness; but as she dressed +she strengthened herself in a resolve to try and hide her chagrin, and make +some amends to Dudley for her reception of the news. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you felt pretty disgusted with me last night,” she said +at the breakfast-table. “I’m sorry, but you took me so violently by +surprise.” +</p> + +<p> +He had taken his seat, looking grave and displeased, but his face relaxed as he +replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid I was rather sudden. It seemed the +easiest”—he hesitated, then added—“I hope you’ll +try to get on with Doris.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” Hal turned away on some slight pretext. +“I’d hate giving you up to any one—you know I +would—we’ve—we’ve—been very happy together here, +and—” but her voice broke suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley looked unhappy, but he steadied his voice and said cheerfully: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it needn’t be very different. If you and Doris will get fond +of each other, it will be the same, only better. Of course you will live with +us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no”; and she tried to smile lightly—“I +couldn’t—possibly live without Mrs. Carr now. I should never be +properly dressed, for one thing, and I should always be forgetting important +engagements.” She changed the subject quickly, seeing he was about to +remonstrate. “Have you seen Ethel and Basil +since—since—” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I’m going to see Basil this afternoon, after taking Doris to +Wimbledon to see Langfier fly, and I shall stay to dinner. Will you come up +this evening?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I’m going out. Perhaps tomorrow—” she hesitated, +as if swallowing a lump in her throat. “You might give my love to Doris, +and say I’ll come soon.” She saw Dudley glance at her inquiringly, +and recklessly dashed into another subject, talking at random until she left. +</p> + +<p> +In the afternoon she hurried straight off to Lorraine’s flat, arriving a +few minutes after Lorraine had come in from a walk in the Park. She was +standing by the window, drawing off some long gloves, and even Hal was struck +by a sort of newness about her—a bloom and a quiet radiance that was like +a renewal of youth. +</p> + +<p> +She was beautifully dressed as ever, but with a far simpler note than +usual—something which suggested she wished to look charming, without +attracting attention; something which suppressed the actress in favour of the +woman. +</p> + +<p> +It was as if, surrounded with success and attention night after night, and for +several years, she had wearied of the rôle, and put it aside voluntarily +whenever opportunity offered. She had been wont to be very fashionable and +striking in her dress and general appearance, but now Hal noticed vaguely a +simpler note all through. +</p> + +<p> +Her face and expression seemed to have changed also. A certain hardness and +callousness had gone. Her smile was more genuine, and her eyes kinder. In some +mysterious way, it was as though Lorraine had won from the past some gleaming +of the woman she might have been under happier circumstances, and without +certain harsh experiences. +</p> + +<p> +And it was all owing to her feeling for Alymer Hermon and his youthful pride in +her. +</p> + +<p> +They met continually now. Her flat was open to him whenever he liked. He came +to her when he had anything interesting to relate—when he was depressed +and when he was hopeful. With the inconsequent acceptance of youth, he took +from her what an older man would have regarded a little shyly, and perhaps +feared to take. +</p> + +<p> +She was his pal, his excellent friend, who gave him such sympathy and interest +and encouragement as she could find nowhere else. Because he was young, he +drank deep and asked no questions. +</p> + +<p> +He did not imagine for a moment that she was in love with him. True, other +women were; but then they told him so, and alarmed him with their attentions. +Lorraine was more inclined to laugh at him and make fun of him, in a jolly, +pally sort of way, which made him feel perfectly at home with her, and +successfully banish any questions. +</p> + +<p> +She was more like a man friend, only better, because a man would have wanted an +equal share of interest, whereas Lorraine seemed content to be interested in +him. She never encouraged him to talk about her triumphs and her other friends. +She rather implied they were so public and apparent already she did not want to +hear any more of them. +</p> + +<p> +But she was always ready to talk of his hopes and aspirations, and help him to +build foundations to his aircastles. And already, under her tuition and help, +he had made immense strides. His work and his objects had become real to him, +ambition had taken root and begun to push out little upward shoots. He saw +himself one of the leading lights at the Bar, and instead of lazily scoffing, +he liked the picture. He wanted to get there, and if Lorraine was ready to help +him, why should she not? Why bother to ask questions? +</p> + +<p> +Of course she must be fond of him, or she would not do it; but then he was fond +of her too—very fond—and why not? The mere suggestion of danger did +not occur to him. She was so many years his senior, and so celebrated, it never +crossed his mind to suppose she could have any feeling for him beyond the jolly +palliness that seemed to have sprung up naturally between them. +</p> + +<p> +So he came and went between the Temple and her flat and his own quarters, and +life began to assume a bigness of possibility that drowned all else, and kept +him eager and hard working and safe from the hurtful influences and actions +that attend idle hours. +</p> + +<p> +And Lorraine, for the present, walked in her fool’s paradise and was +content. She watched him slowly and surely fill out both physically and +mentally into the promise of his splendid manhood. +</p> + +<p> +She saw his youthful beauty solidifying into the beauty of a man, and carefully +watered and tended those budding shoots of ambition that were to help him +attain his best promise. +</p> + +<p> +For the time being the thwarted mother-love that is in every woman satisfied +her with the evidence of his progress, and she lulled any other into +quiescence, hugging to herself the knowledge that it was she alone to whom he +would owe greatness, if he won it, and that even his own doting mother had not +done, and never could do, the half that she was doing to start him on a +steadfast way that should lead to fame and usefulness. +</p> + +<p> +She made it her excuse for ignoring the questions which her wider knowledge +could not entirely banish. To what other results the friendship might lead she +turned a deaf ear. The other results must take care of themselves, was her +thought; it was enough for her that she could help to make him great. +</p> + +<p> +She smiled a little at the thought of the women she had won him from. He talked +to her now freely and openly, though always with that unassuming modesty which +was so attractive. She knew what he had already had to combat. What a life of +self-pleasing and gay-living lay open to him if he chose to take it. She knew +that, if he chose it, though he might still win a certain amount of fame, it +would never be the well-grounded, staunch, reliable success that she could spur +him to. +</p> + +<p> +And so she drew a curtain over the dangers her course might hold, and, in a +light and airy way, threw over him the glow and the warm attractiveness of her +many fascinations and allurements, that she might keep him free from any +foolish engagement or low entanglement, to concentrate all his mind and his +heart upon his work and her. +</p> + +<p> +How long such an aim was likely to satisfy her, or how natural or unnatural her +course, she left with all the other questions, to be faced, if necessary, later +on, or to pass with the swift joy into oblivion. +</p> + +<p> +At least it was not the first time a woman, scarcely young, and having her full +measure of success, had turned unaccountably to a man very much her junior, for +something she apparently sought in vain from men of her own age. It might be +strange, but it was not unique; and for the rest, were not the ways of the +little god Love like the ways of many events—“stranger than +fiction”? +</p> + +<p> +His magnificent physique, his extraordinarily beautiful head, and his no less +extraordinary, unassuming modesty, attracted and held her with links that grew +stronger and stronger, and her happiest hours now were those in which he made +himself delightfully at home in her flat, and added to his charm by talking to +her with the old-fashioned, grandfatherly air she had enjoyed from the first. +</p> + +<p> +And so Hal found a younger and softer Lorraine than she had known for a long +time, waiting to hear the burden of her tale of woe. +</p> + +<p> +They talked it over in every aspect, Hal sitting in her favourite attitude on a +stool at Lorraine’s feet; but very little light could be won through the +clouds. All the consolation Lorraine could suggest was a possibility that to be +engaged and married to a man like Dudley might change Doris altogether for the +better; but Hal, beyond feeling brighter for having spoken out her dismay, felt +there was little indeed hope of that. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Sir Edwin Crathie again?” Lorraine asked presently, +and she was surprised to see a spot of colour instantly flame into Hal’s +cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve had a long motor ride with him,” she said, speaking as +if it were a mere detail. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Have you</i>?” was Lorraine’s very expressive rejoinder. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say it like that?” Hal laughed with seeming lightness. +“He just took me for a treat. He’s rather sorry for me, being boxed +up in an office, as he calls it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see. Well, don’t forget he has the reputation for being rather a +dangerous man, old girl.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal laughed again. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell him so, and go armed with a revolver next time.” +She noticed an inquiring look in Lorraine’s eyes, and added: +“Don’t look so serious, Lorry; he is old enough to be my father. He +likes a little amusement, the same as you and Baby Hermon.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned away as she spoke, and did not see the swift deepening of the look +of inquiry, nor a certain strange expression that flitted across +Lorraine’s face; and almost immediately the door opened, and Alymer +Hermon walked in unannounced. +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo, Hal!” he exclaimed—“it’s quite a long +time since I ran into you here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo, Baby!” she retorted. “Why, I declare, you are +beginning to look quite a man.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you don’t mind I’ll pick you up and carry you all the way +down the stairs to the street; then you’ll see if I’m a man or +not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut; any big creature could do that! Got any briefs yet?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine looked up instantly with an eager, questioning glance—while Hal +asked gaily: +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?... I suppose the original holder is sick, or dead, or +something, and you are a stop-gap.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are wrong, Miss Sharp-tongue. I hold the brief entirely on my own. +It hasn’t even anything to do with any one in Waltham’s +Chambers.” +</p> + +<p> +And still Lorraine, with shining eyes, watched his face. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” said Hal, “the other side have got a very small +man, and they wanted a big one to frighten him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Wrong again. The other side has Pym, and he is quite six feet in +height.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then perhaps he looks clever, and they believe in contrasts.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall carry you down to the street yet,” threateningly; +“you are running grave risks.” +</p> + +<p> +“So is the poor man trusting his defence to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“It happens to be a lady.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal clapped in her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” she cried; “now we are getting at it. The lady +chose you because she thought your wig and gown becoming. How many interviews +shall you be having with her?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t say, but we had one this afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was she very charming? Did she call you Baby?” +</p> + +<p> +He shrugged his shoulders and turned to Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“I only waste my substance trying to cope with any one as obtuse as Hal. +Is she going to stay to dinner?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid so,” smilingly. +</p> + +<p> +He took up his stand on the rug, with his back to the fire and looked down at +Hal on her footstool. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a pity about the obtuseness,” he commented, +“because she is really rather nice to look at. She has improved so much +lately.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh no, I haven’t,” tilting her nose in the air. “I am +exactly the same; but you have acquired better taste. Is <i>he</i> going to +stay to dinner, Lorraine?” “I’m afraid so. You will have to +call a truce, because I want to hear all about the brief; and I shall hear +nothing if you persist in wrangling.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t my fault,” he said. “I always try to be +friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as far as that goes, I always <i>try</i> to like you,” Hal +retorted with a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“You would find it much easier if you did not hurl insults at me. Begin +another plan altogether.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come along to dinner,” put in Lorraine, rising, “and let us +hear about this brief.” +</p> + +<p> +She led the way to the dining-room, and they had a merry little meal, arranging +all about the congratulatory dinner Lorraine proposed to give for Alymer to +celebrate the important occasion of his first brief. +</p> + +<p> +Afterwards Hal drove to the theatre with her, and stayed a short time in her +room while, as Lorraine phrased it, she put on her war-paint. +</p> + +<p> +Then she went rather sadly home alone, feeling lost and unhappy about Dudley. +It crossed her mind once that Lorraine and Alymer Hermon seemed be on very much +more familiar terms than previously, but she paid little heed to the thought, +merely supposing that it amused Lorraine to help him in his profession. +</p> + +<p> +She sat over the fire and tried to read, but presently the book went down into +her lap, and her eyes sought the cheery flicker of the flames. Only there was +no answering glow in her usually bright face, rather a sad uneasiness and +perplexity, as if circumstances she hardly knew how to cope with were closing +in upon her. +</p> + +<p> +She felt she had come to a difficult path in life she would have to face alone; +for in her friendship with Sir Edwin Crathie neither Dudley nor Lorraine could +help her. +</p> + +<p> +And, gazing into the fire with serious, thoughtful eyes, it was neither Dudley +and Doris, nor Lorraine and Alymer who finally held her thoughts, but sir Edwin +Crathie himself. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<p> +The first time Sir Edwin rang up the newspaper office after the memorable +Sunday it happened that Hal had gone into the country to report an opening +ceremony, graced by Royalty, so she was saved the necessity of framing a reply. +</p> + +<p> +One of the usual reporters being ill, the news editor had asked her if she +would like to take his place, and she had eagerly accepted the chance. It meant +a day in the country, travelling by special train, and the writing of the +report did not worry her at all, as she had already served her apprenticeship +to journalism, and knew how to seize on the most interesting points and +condense them into a small space. +</p> + +<p> +She had a genius for making friends also, and after an excellent champagne +lunch, and a cup of tea captured for her by a pleasant-faced man whom she +afterwards discovered to be the Earl of Roxley, she motored back to the railway +station with a well-known aeronaut, who promised to take her for a +“fly” some day. They travelled up to town in the same compartment, +and as Hal had to have her article ready for press when she reached the office, +it was necessary to write it in the train. +</p> + +<p> +The “flying man” wished to turn his hand to journalism too, and +attempted to help her, without much success, though with a good deal of +entertainment for himself. He was specially amused at her determination to lay +considerable stress on the fact that one of the horses in the royal carriage +fell down between the station and the park. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the good of putting that in?” he argued; “it is +of no importance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it’s almost the most important thing of all,” she +declared. “You evidently don’t know much about journalism. The +Public will not be half as interested in the King’s speech as in the +information that one of the horses fell down, and that the King then put his +hands on the Queen’s, and told her not to be frightened.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he didn’t; and the horse only slipped.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’re too dense!” she cried, “and, anyhow, you +can’t be certain that he didn’t. It’s what he ought to have +done, and the British Public will be awfully pleased to know that he did. +They’ll be frightfully interested in the horse falling down, too. I +suppose you would leave it out, and give dates of the building of the edifice, +and the different styles of architecture, and the names of illustrious people +connected with it. As if any one wanted to know that! The horse will make far +better reading, though I daresay I ought to work in a few costs of things. The +B.P. loves to know what a thing costs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why not value the horse, as you think so much of it? or say that +it snapped a trace in half which cost two guineas, and was bought in Bond +Street?” +</p> + +<p> +They both laughed, and then Hal said seriously: +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’ll make it kick over the centre pole, only then perhaps +some of the other reporters will catch it for not having seen the kick also. I +once wrote an account of a garden party, and left out that the horses of the +Prime Minister’s carriage shied and swerved, and one wheel caught against +the gate-post. As a matter of fact, it did not do much more than graze it, but +some journalist wrote a thrilling account of how the carriage nearly turned +over; and I’ve never forgotten the chief’s face when he asked me +why I hadn’t mentioned the accident to the Prime Minister’s +carriage. I said there wasn’t an accident, and he snapped: ‘Well +you’d better have turned them all in a heap in the road than left it out +altogether!’ +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve never made the same mistake since,” she finished, +“and now, if the chief sees my paragraphs, he has to ring some one up +occasionally, and make sure I haven’t gone out of bounds +altogether.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you’re quite determined to lie... I mean romance... why +not do it thoroughly? Let the King leap out of the carriage, with the Queen in +his arms, and the royal coachman fall backwards off the +box—and—and—both the horses burst out laughing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d get the sack for that,” Hal spluttered, busily plying +her pencil, “and then I’d break my heart, because I’m in love +with the chief.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh”—with a low laugh, “and is it quite +hopeless?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite. The most hopeless <i>grande passion</i> that ever was. He’s +been married twice already, and the second is still very much alive. Did the +Queen wear a black hat, or a dark purple one?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dark purple, of course, like her dress. Why, I could write the thing +better than you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you could, if you might have half the newspaper. I +don’t know where you’d be in thirty-six lines!” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! Have you got to squeeze it all into thirty-six lines?” +</p> + +<p> +“Less, if possible. There’s been a row in Berlin, and we have to +allow for thrilling developments, which may crowd out lots of other +paragraphs.” +</p> + +<p> +“And supposing you want it a few lines longer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then the compiler will add a bit on about the weather, or throw in +another dress description, or something. I’m putting you in now,” +scribbling on; “but I don’t know your name?” +</p> + +<p> +“And I’m not going to tell it to you for your precious paragraph, +so you’ll have to cross that bit out again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all,” airily: “a well-known aeronaut, who has +recently beaten the distance-record, and is looking remarkably well in spite of +his advanced years, was among the distinguished guests!” +</p> + +<p> +He had to cry “pax” then. +</p> + +<p> +“I give you up,” he said; “you’re too much for me! But +I’ll take you for a fly the first opportunity I get. Will you +come?” +</p> + +<p> +“Will I come!...” in eager tones. “Oh, won’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +And he promised to arrange it. +</p> + +<p> +When they reached Euston, Hal had to dash for the first taxi, and tear to the +office with her report, and it was not until she was leaving that the call boy +told her a gentleman had asked for her on the telephone in the afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +“Did he give any name?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Mr. Crathie.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal suppressed a smile. “I suppose you told him I was out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, miss. He wanted to know when you would be back, and I asked Mr. +Watson, and he told me to say ‘Not before evening.’” +</p> + +<p> +Hal climbed to the top of a bus, and journeyed homewards with a thoughtful air. +Of course he would ring her up again the next day, and then what was she to +say? +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime, looming big in her immediate horizon was the visit to be paid +to Holloway that evening. She was going up without Dudley, having expressed a +wish to do so, with which he had willingly complied. She felt it would be +easier not to appear forced without him, and would be fairer on Doris also. Yet +she dreaded the visit very much, and longed that it was over. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel opened the door to her, as she happened to be in the little kitchen close +beside it, and Hal thought she looked very ill as she grasped her hand with +warm friendliness, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“How nice of you to come and see Doris so soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing in the kitchen?” said Hal. “I want to +come and help.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m only making a salad, and shall not be long. You must go to the +parlour”; and she laughed at the quaint, old-fashioned word. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m coming to help,” and Hal walked past her, through +the open door. “How’s Basil? Dudley spoke as if he was not quite so +well just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid he isn’t,” with sudden, hardly veiled +anxiety; “but it may only be the foggy weather.” +</p> + +<p> +To any one else Ethel would probably have asserted that he was well as usual, +and changed the subject; but she liked Hal specially, and showed it by being +quite honest with her. She also knew perfectly well that Dudley’s +engagement must have been a great shock to his only sister, not solely because +she had nothing whatever in common with Doris, but because she herself must +love him; and her heart felt very tender and friendly over her. +</p> + +<p> +Although Hal had come to see Doris, she did not refrain from following her +inclination, and seating herself on the kitchen table to chat to Ethel while +she made the salad. Doris would keep, was her rapid mental conclusion, and they +two might not get another chance of a few words alone. +</p> + +<p> +Chatting thus, it was interesting to note the similarity that existed between +these wielders of the pen, each daily immersed in a City office. +</p> + +<p> +Each had the same clear, frank eyes, the same independent poise of head, the +same air of capable energy and self-dependence. Each, too, had the same rather +colourless skin, from lack of fresh air, though whereas Ethel looked tired and +worn, Hal seemed strong and fresh and wore no air of delicacy. +</p> + +<p> +Then Doris came, with her pink-and-white daintiness, and spoke to them both +with a little triumphant air of condescension; for was not she engaged to be +married, whereas clever, working women usually became “old maids”? +</p> + +<p> +Hal tried not to seem too offhand, but it was quite impossible for her to gush, +and she could not pretend a sudden affection just because of the engagement. So +she just said something about Dudley being very happy, and hoped they would +have good luck, and then went to the sitting-room to talk to Basil, +entertaining him immensely with her account of the day’s ceremony, and +her haphazard friendship with the “flying man”, who was going to +take her in his aeroplane. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was he?” Basil asked. “Has he won any prizes?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know. He did not tell me. I did not discover his name +either, but he was some relation of the ‘Lord-of-the-Manor’ person +who received the King.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know his name?” asked Doris in a shocked voice. +“Weren’t you introduced?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never a bit of it,” laughed Hal. “I was left behind when the +last fly had gone to the station, and he heard me asking anxiously how soon one +would get back again, and immediately offered me a seat in the motor he was +going in. Another man was with him, a much be-medalled officer, who was +somewhat heavy in hand to talk to, and at the station we gave him the +slip.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can he take you for a fly if you don’t know who he is?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I dare say he won’t; quite likely he didn’t mean it; +but if he did, he can easily find me at the office. He knew my name, and what +paper I was there for. They both knew, which probably accounts for the +gentleman with the medals being somewhat ponderous—soldiers are usually +snobbish—and he may not have liked having to ride to the station with a +newspaper woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if the other man was the Lord of the Manor’s brother?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that wouldn’t make any difference. He might very well be less +self-important than anything in a bit of scarlet and medals if he had been the +Lord of the Manor himself. Why, the Earl of Roxley got tea for me, and was most +attentive.” +</p> + +<p> +Doris’s eyes opened wider. She had always secretly entertained rather a +superior attitude towards Hal and her sister, and was glad she was not an +office clerk. The big, breezy, working world, where the individual is taken on +his or her merits apart from birth, or standing, or occupation, was quite +unknown to her; and that Hal’s original, attractive personality might +open doors for ever shut to her mediocre, pretty young-ladyhood, would never +enter her mind. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I should care to talk to any one without being +introduced,” she remarked a little affectedly, to which Hal shrugged her +shoulders and commented: +</p> + +<p> +“It’s just as well you haven’t to knock about in the world, +then. Any one with an ounce of common sense and perspicacity knows when it is +safe, and when it is sheer folly.” +</p> + +<p> +Basil watched her with an amused air. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you do,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” She smiled infectiously. “I’ve only once been +spoken to unpleasantly in London, after knocking about for seven years, and +then I offered the man a sixpence. I said: ‘I’m sorry I +haven’t any more, and I can’t spare that, but if you are +hungry!...’ He looked as if he would like to slay me, and +vanished.” +</p> + +<p> +Doris still looked slightly disapproving, and when at last Hal rose to go, she +half-unconsciously asked Ethel with her eyes to accompany her to get her hat, +instead of her prospective sister-in-law. And when they were alone, Ethel +looked into Hal’s expressive face, and guessing something of what she +carefully hid, said sympathetically: +</p> + +<p> +“You and Dudley have always been so much to each other; I am afraid you +must feel it a little having to share him already with another.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly and inexplicably Hal’s eyes filled with tears, and she turned +away quite unable to answer. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel pretended not to notice, but her heart bled for her, knowing how much +worse it was than just the fact of the engagement. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so wrapped up in Basil,” she went on, “that if it +had happened to me I should have felt quite heartbroken, however much I told +myself I wanted his happiness.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal dabbed her eyes a little viciously. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I want him to be happy,” she managed to say; “but +it is nice of you to understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s one thing,” Ethel continued, “you will become +a sort of relation, and you’ve no idea how pleased Basil and I will be +about that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you?” Hal smiled through her tears, “I rather wonder at +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course we shall. Basil and I think you are one of the finest +characters we have ever known. You’ve no idea how proud we are when you +come to see us,” which proved Ethel’s understanding heart, for a +little generous praise is a kind healer to a sore spirit. +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked into her eyes, with a pleased light in her own. +</p> + +<p> +“You are too generous, but it’s nice to be thought well of by any +one like you and Basil. I shall remember it when I am silly enough to be +downhearted, and it will cheer me up.” +</p> + +<p> +She had to hurry away then to catch a train, and as she went her mind was full +of the thought: +</p> + +<p> +“Why, oh why, had Dudley, in his blindness, wooed the younger +sister?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” he said, as she entered their sitting-room, where he was +reading over the fire. “How did you get on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, splendidly”—trying to throw a little enthusiasm into her +voice. “Doris looked amazingly pretty.” +</p> + +<p> +She show a soft light in his eyes, and because it rather maddened her, she +hastened to add: “But I see a great change in Basil.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?... I wondered if you would. I was afraid he did not seem so +well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley”—with sudden seriousness—“when Basil +dies, it will just about break Ethel up. She idolises him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know; but she can hardly wish him to live on if he continues to grow +worse.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose not; but it’s rather awful to think of what it will mean +to her to lose him. And she’s so sympathetic and tender-hearted.” +Hal stood a moment looking gravely at the fire—“you know, I think +she’s the most splendid person I’ve ever known.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splendid!...” a trifle testily. “Why? Splendid seems an odd +word to use.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the one that suits Ethel Hayward best of all. Anything else +would be too commonplace. When I think what her life is—the endless +struggle to make both ends meet—work morning, noon, and night—and +on the top of it all the brother she adores a helpless, suffering invalid, it +quite overawes me. If she were bitter and complaining it would be different, +but she is nearly always cheerful and hopeful and ready to think of some one +else’s troubles. And yet she isn’t goody-goody—nor what one +describes as ‘worthy’; she’s just human through and +through.” +</p> + +<p> +“She sometimes seems to me a little severe,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Severe!... Oh, Dudley, she is the kindest soul alive.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps she was tired; but it seemed to me, considering Doris’s +youth, she expected rather a lot of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!...” +</p> + +<p> +Hal turned away, and picked up an evening paper. The exclamation might have +meant anything, yet Dudley half knew it meant that in some way Hal believed +Doris had wilfully misrepresented her sister, and, naturally resenting the +inference, he returned to his book and said no more. +</p> + +<p> +Hal lingered a little longer, passed one or two remarks on the evening news, +told him of her day in the country, and then went to bed. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, in spite of her soreness towards Doris, something in her evening with +Ethel had unaccountably cheered and refreshed her—the kindly praise, the +warm-hearted affection, the sight of the strong, womanly face, unembittered by +its heavy sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +Hal stood at her window, and glanced out over the City, and felt renewed in her +determination to withstand Sir Edwin Crathie’s advances. She knew that he +was treating her with a lack of respect he would not have dared to show a woman +in his own circle. +</p> + +<p> +He was treating her as a City typist; and however much she wished to prolong +it, she knew she owed it to herself to cut it adrift. +</p> + +<p> +And the next day, when the anticipated telephone call came, her resolution was +firm and unshaken. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell the gentleman I am engaged,” she told the call boy. +</p> + +<p> +He came back again a moment later to know what time she would be disengaged, +and she gave the message: “It is quite impossible to say. I have some +most important work on hand.” +</p> + +<p> +The small boy grinned in a way that made Hal long to box his ears, but she +returned to her work, and pretended not to see. +</p> + +<p> +At the other end of the wire the speaker sat back in his chair and muttered an +oath; then for some moments he stared gloomily at his desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Damn it! I like her pluck,” ran his thoughts; “but I +don’t mean to be put off like that. I’ve got to see her again +somehow, if it’s only to prove I’m not the cad she thinks +me.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<p> +The following afternoon when Hal left the office about half-past four she saw a +motor she recognised a little way down the street, and was almost immediately +accosted by Sir Edwin himself. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you left at this time,” he said frankly, “so I came +to meet you.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked a little taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder why you did that,” was all she found to say. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it was the only way, since you won’t come to the telephone, +and I am afraid to call on you in Bloomsbury. I want to talk to you. Come along +and have some tea.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal hesitated, looking doubtfully at the motor, but he urged her on. +</p> + +<p> +“Come; surely you’re not afraid to have a cup of tea with me. +We’ll go to the Carlton—or the Ritz if you prefer it—and take +a conspicuous table.” +</p> + +<p> +“In my office garments!” with a low laugh. “I don’t +want to be taken for your housekeeper.” +</p> + +<p> +“My housekeeper is a deuce of a swell,” laughing in his turn. +“She certainly wouldn’t be seen in a last year’s frock; but +you’re one of the lucky people who manage to look smart, even in office +clothes, as you call them—so come along.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal got into the motor. +</p> + +<p> +“Which is it to be? Ritz or Carlton?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Carlton—and not the centre table.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do you manage it?” he said, as they glided off, looking at her +with critical, admiring eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Manage what? I wish you wouldn’t look at me like a doctor studying +my health. I shall put my tongue out in a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t do that. A colleague or an opponent would be sure to be +looking, and I don’t know which would be worse. Manage to look smart in +anything, of course I mean.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it’s Lorraine Vivian and her maid; they loathe to see me +dowdy.” +</p> + +<p> +“With a little help from the Almighty, who gave you a haughty little nose +and a short upper lip,” he told her laughingly. “You’re been +very angry with me, I’m afraid, and no doubt I deserved it, but I’m +going to make you be friends again and forgive me.” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t find it easy.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say not; but I’m going to try all the same. Shall I begin +with a humble apology?” +</p> + +<p> +“You couldn’t be humble. I shouldn’t believe in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe I could with you—which means a great deal. Tell me, were +you fully determined not to speak to me on the telephone, and not to see me +again?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly I was.” +</p> + +<p> +“What nonsense! And did you really suppose I should submit without making +an effort to see you, and persuade you to be friends again?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal tilted her nose up a little, and glanced away as she replied a trifle +scathingly: +</p> + +<p> +“I supposed, having found I was not the sort of girl you imagined, and +not one you could take liberties with, that possibly our friendship would cease +to interest you.” +</p> + +<p> +He coloured slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“You hit hard, but I suppose I have deserved it. I shall now have to +prove to you that I’ve turned over a new leaf, and deserve it no +longer.” +</p> + +<p> +They stopped before the Carlton as he spoke, and he led the way into the +lounge, and to a side table. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you’ll trust me this far,” he said; +“people stare so when one is in the middle of the room.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal sat down and drew off her gloves, feeling, in spite of herself, +unmistakably happy. It was good to be there, instead of trudging home to +Bloomsbury; and it was specially good to be chatting to him again. +</p> + +<p> +A dear friend may be always a dear friend, and yet not just the one one wants +at the moment. When things are difficult, and irritating, and disappointing, +the pleasantest companion is apt to be one with so much individual regard for +us at the time that we can hold forth upon our troubles without any fear of +boring our listener. +</p> + +<p> +When Hal had poured her tale of woe into Lorraine’s ear, she had known +that Lorraine was genuinely interested and sorry—and yet, also, that +something else occupied her mind at the same time. Sitting now, opposite to Sir +Edwin Crathie, it was perfectly apparent for the time being that his mind was +entirely at her service. +</p> + +<p> +This was further shown by the fact that he realised something was worrying her +before she told him. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter?” he asked abruptly; “you look as if +something very boring had happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“It has.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal kept her eyes lowered a moment, with a thoughtful air, and the corners of +the fascinating mouth drooped a little. +</p> + +<p> +“What has happened?... Tell me what is bothering you.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke peremptorily, yet with an evident concern for her that made the +peremptory tone dangerously alluring. Hal remained silent, though she felt her +pulses quicken, and he added: +</p> + +<p> +“Come, we are going to be friends again; aren’t we? I’ve told +you I’m very sorry; I can’t do more. You will really have to +forgive me now.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked into his face, and something in his eyes told her he was quite +genuine for the time. Of course it might be rash, and unwise, and various other +things, but it had been a difficult, trying week, and his sympathy was passing +good now. Sir Edwin met her gaze for a moment, and then lowered his. +</p> + +<p> +He thought it was chiefly when her eyes laughed that he wanted to kiss her, but +when they had that serious, rather appealing expression, he began to feel they +were more disturbing still. Mastering his unmanageable senses with an effort, +he looked up again, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what is it? Of course you must tell me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Brother Dudley is going to be married,” said Hal with her usual +directness. +</p> + +<p> +“When?” And Sir Edwin gave a low exclamation of surprise. +“Isn’t it rather sudden?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very,” in dry tones. +</p> + +<p> +“And I suppose you don’t want to love your prospective +sister-in-law all in a hurry.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to love her at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I don’t suppose you will,” with a little laugh. +“Presumably you know her.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have known her a long time. If I had been asked, she is the last girl +I could have believed Dudley would care for. I don’t believe he does care +for her in the real sense. She is very pretty, and she wanted to marry him, and +she just played on his feelings.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you call ‘in the real sense’?” he asked +pointedly. +</p> + +<p> +A pink spot burned in Hal’s cheeks; she felt the question a little beside +the mark, and did not want to answer it. +</p> + +<p> +“She has rather a dull home, and is very poor, and I think she thought on +the whole life would be improved if she were Dudley’s wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that is not the real sense?” insistently. +</p> + +<p> +“It certainly is not love.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you haven’t yet told me what is?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know much about it, +and”—hastily—“I don’t want to. When it’s +real it hurts, and when it isn’t real it’s just feebleness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, you must know some day.” +</p> + +<p> +He liked to see the spot of colour spreading in her cheeks, and the frank eyes +growing a little defiant as he pressed her against her will. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t follow that I must. Perhaps I shall just be feeble, and +marry for a home and luxuries.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never,” with conviction. “You’ll—Hal, +you’ll get it badly when once you’re caught.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never said you might call me ‘Hal’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you? Well, I apologise. May I?” +</p> + +<p> +She could not help laughing. +</p> + +<p> +“You evidently mean to; and I suppose you usually have your own +way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very often. That’s sensible of you. Of course you are sometimes +annoying sensible and practical. I don’t know that I ever liked any one +quite so level-headed before. It never appealed to me. Yet, somehow, I think +you could lose your head. You’ve got it in you to do so. I wouldn’t +give tuppence for a woman who hadn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was silent, and, as usual, he pressed his point. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think you could lose your head?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I shall,” was the evasive answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +She felt him looking hard into her face, and moved restlessly beneath a +scrutiny that quickened her pulses and warmed her blood in a way that was +altogether new. Then suddenly she looked up. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you think we are rather talking drivel? Let’s get back +to the original subject. I don’t want to lose my head—it’s +rather a nice one—sound and reliable and all that.” +</p> + +<p> +He sat back in his chair with a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re very clever,” he told her admiringly. “I always +seem to be out-flanked in the end. Very well then, Brother Dudley has got +engaged foolishly, and Hal has been quietly fretting, instead of being a +sensible little woman, and telling her friend all about it straight away. What +are you going to do now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t do anything. He won’t get married for a few months +anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when he does?” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I shall stay where I am, and make the best of it, I suppose... +but... but”—her voice broke a little—“I’m a +positive fool about Dudley. I can’t bear to lose him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor little woman. Well, I’ll be good to you if you’ll let +me. I dare say I can brighten things up a little. Every cloud has a silver +lining, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know where Dudley’s will be,” with a wintry +smile. “It wouldn’t be so hard if I thought there was any chance of +his being happy. But there isn’t. He doesn’t in the least know her +real character.” +</p> + +<p> +They sat on until seven o’clock, and then Hal rose to go, feeling happier +than she had done ever since they last met. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, am I forgiven?” he asked, as she buttoned her gloves. +</p> + +<p> +“You are, for the present,” with an arch glance; “but I +reserve the right to retract at a moment’s notice.” +</p> + +<p> +“And in the meantime you will prove it by coming out to lunch on Sunday? +We might go to the Zoo afterwards, and make friends with some of the +animals.” +</p> + +<p> +At the first suggestion of lunch Hal had been ready to shy away, but the idea +of the Zoo on Sunday afternoon was too much for her, and she said with +unmistakable longing: +</p> + +<p> +“I should simply love the Zoo.” Then, after a pause: +“Couldn’t I meet you there about three?” +</p> + +<p> +“But why wait until three? It is not very friendly of you to refuse to +lunch with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I usually go to Lorraine”—somewhat lamely. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not bring Miss Vivian with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, could I?” eagerly; “that would be splendid—if she +is disengaged.” +</p> + +<p> +A curious little half smile crossed his eyes at her eagerness; but he only +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, and if she cares to bring a friend, to make the party an even +number, I shall be only too pleased. Shall we say the Piccadilly, for a change, +at 1.30?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal thanked him, and as she sped homewards in a taxi he had procured for her, +she viewed the prospect with real delight. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley, of course, would be spending his Sunday with Doris, and she and +Lorraine, supposing the latter were disengaged, might have found the afternoon +a little long alone. The evening was the occasion of the dinner-party to +commemorate Alymer Hermon’s first brief, so it was very likely Lorraine +would be free at midday. +</p> + +<p> +She thought it was nice of Sir Edwin to invite her friend as well, and as she +reviewed the afternoon meeting, her heart was foolishly glad over his apology, +and insistent determination to be friends. It was evident, she believed, that +if she adhered to her resolute resistance of familiarity, she would be able to +keep him at a discreet distance, and they might enjoy a really delightful +friendship. +</p> + +<p> +Her eyes were smiling and glad at the little upper window that night. She had +hated cutting off their friendship. The days had been dull and dragging without +even a telephone chat with him; and though she still told herself it was +chiefly because of the shock of Dudley’s engagement, she knew it was a +little for his sake also. +</p> + +<p> +And she thought further, if they might now include Lorraine in some of their +meetings, it would be an added safeguard, and very entertaining as well. She +meant to telephone to her the first thing in the morning to fix up their Sunday +engagement. +</p> + +<p> +Inquiries on the telephone, however, the next morning, elicited the information +that Lorraine had already arranged to go out to lunch; and thus Hal found +herself unexpectedly thrown on her own resources. A little note from Ethel +asking her to accompany Dudley if she had nothing better to do, placed her in a +further awkward position. +</p> + +<p> +She did not want to go to Holloway, to swell the number of mouths to be fed out +of Ethel’s slender housekeeping purse, and add one more to be cooked for, +etc., on Ethel’s one free day. Finally, because it was the simplest, as +well as the pleasantest thing to do, she telephoned Sir Edwin, and told him +Lorraine could not accompany her on Sunday, but she would be there herself, and +afterwards go to the Zoo. +</p> + +<p> +And at the other end of the wire Sir Edwin smiled, an enigmatical smile that +was unmistakably pleased, as he put back the receiver, and glanced towards the +cosy fire in his grate. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder,” he said to himself meditatively, “if one could +make her care, whether she could care enough to lose her head.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<p> +It was rather a curious circumstance, that on the occasion of Lorraine’s +dinner-party, Alymer Hermon was the first to notice an indefinable change in +Hal. To the others she was only gayer than usual, more sparkling, +better-looking. +</p> + +<p> +From the Zoological Gardens Sir Edwin had taken her home in a taxi, and after +being a delightful companion all the afternoon, had said good-bye in just the +friendly, pally spirit that Hal wished, without exhibiting any alarming +symptoms whatever to disturb her peace of mind. He had indeed been at his very +best; far nicer than ever before; and together they had thoroughly enjoyed +their intercourse, through iron bars, with the animals they both loved. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, his knowledge on most subjects did not exclude zoology, and he was +able to tell her numberless little details of the ways and habits of beasts +that Hal rejoiced to hear, because she loved all four-footed things. +</p> + +<p> +And then there had been the pleasant consciousness of a new winter costume, +that was not only very up to date, but remarkably becoming; and Hal was true +woman enough to enjoy the knowledge that she looked her best. Neither was it in +any degree a mediocre “best”; and even Sir Edwin was a little +surprised to find himself with a companion who attracted nearly as many +admiring glances as various lady friends who were recognised beauties. +</p> + +<p> +Her slim, graceful figure was singularly perfect, and, as he observed with +fresh pleasure each time they met, she walked with a natural elegance and grace +that were a delight to the eye. And happiness gave a faint pink flush to her +cheeks and a light to her eyes, that somehow seemed to radiate gaiety; and her +intense power of enjoyment communicated itself to others in a way that was +wholly delightful. +</p> + +<p> +So they spent a gay afternoon, which cemented the former acquaintanceship into +a firmer bond of friendship, and because of it he vowed within himself he would +play fair with her, and make no more advances he was not prepared to follow up +in an honourable spirit. +</p> + +<p> +For Hal, it was enough that the past mistake seemed genuinely regretted and +wiped out, and that all his manner to her now held deference and respect. And +she was intensely glad—almost alarmingly glad, if she had stopped to +consider; only that would have cast a shadow on the sunshine; and she preferred +to take the sunshine while it offered, and leave the future to take care of +itself. +</p> + +<p> +And in the meantime there was Lorraine’s dinner-party, instead of a +lonely evening, and once more she dressed herself with care and skill; and +later stood up straight and slim in Lorraine’s pretty drawing-room, +radiating happiness, and surprising even old friends with her good looks. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon remarked it first. He was standing beside her on the hearth, and +he looked down from his great height with laughing, quizzical eyes and said: +</p> + +<p> +“You’re looking astonishingly pretty tonight. Have you been +consulting a beauty specialist?” +</p> + +<p> +Dick Bruce and Quin laughed delightedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, of course!” cried Dick, digging his hands deep into his +pockets, and giving himself a little gleeful shake, “I’ve been +puzzling my head to grasp what it was. I’d forgotten all about the beauty +specialists. It must have cost an awful lot, Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +“It did,” she told them; “but you’ve no idea how clever +they are. They can renovate the most hopeless faces. I’m sure you’d +all find it worth while running to the expense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, come Hal,” objected Quin laughingly. “We can’t +have the ornament of our flat insulted like that. The rising barrister needs no +beauty specialist, you must admit.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked up at the giant with twitching lips. +</p> + +<p> +“I was going to suggest a brain specialist for him. It won’t be +much use getting lots of briefs because he looks nice in his wig and gown if he +hasn’t the brains to win his cases.” +</p> + +<p> +Hermon caught her by the shoulders to shake her, and at that moment Lord Denton +quietly entered the room. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine had met him in the hall, while hastening across for something she had +forgotten, and told him to go in, so that he entered unannounced, and saw the +group before they knew of his presence. +</p> + +<p> +Especially he seemed to see the two on the hearthrug. Hal, with her shining +eyes, rising coulour, and laughing lips, and Hermon with a sort of answering +glow in his face, boyishly gripping her shoulders as if to shake her. He stood +and looked at them a moment without speaking, then Hal espied him, and thinking +he had that instant entered, exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“Help!... Help!... Lord Denton, I am caught in the clutches of +Leviathan.” +</p> + +<p> +He came forward smillingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Leviathan does not look as if he meant to eat you; and even if he did, I +don’t believe my courage would run to closing with +six-foot-five-and-a-half.” +</p> + +<p> +“Awful, isn’t it?” she said, releasing herself and giving him +her hand. “He is like those lanky pieces of corn which are all stalk and +no head. Have you seen him before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Once,” offering his hand to Hermon. “Delighted to see you +again. I hear you’ve made a hit already. My cousin tells me his friend is +charmed with your way of grappling with her case.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you take her by the shoulders?” asked Hal wickedly, rubbing +her own. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” Lord Denton told her. “He was very grave indeed. You +must give him his due, Miss Pritchard. You’ve seen him grave yourself, +haven’t you now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; and he looked like a boiled owl. On the whole, I prefer him +imbecile.” +</p> + +<p> +Alymer turned on her threateningly, but she slipped behind the other two, +saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Have you met these also, Lord Denton. Mr. St. Quintin, of Shoreditch, +and my cousin, Dick Bruce, poet, novelist, and mother’s help.” +</p> + +<p> +Denton shook hands with them genially, and then Lorraine came back, and they +all followed her to the dining-room. +</p> + +<p> +The repast was a very gay one. Every one was in the best of spirits, and, which +is more important still, all were in attune, and there was no dissentient note. +Hal was perhaps the gayest, and Lord Denton found himself watching her almost +if he were seeing her for the first time. She seemed to him to have developed +amazingly in the few months since he last met her, but he supposed girls of her +age often developed quickly. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even then it seemed a little strange that the merry, rather crude young +typist, as he had regarded her before, should so easily appear a sparkling, +distinguished guest. He could not help a little mental comparision with +Lorraine, not in any way to the latter’s detriment, but with a vague +thought at the back of his mind concerning her and Hermon. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine would always be beautiful: her whole face and form were modelled on +lines that would stand the ravages of many years; and for him she would ever be +one of the dearest of women; but could she match Hal’s young, vigorous, +independence, that was very likely to prove more attractive than a generously +given devotion? +</p> + +<p> +Men, like women, are drawn to an indifference that piques them; and he, man of +the world that he was, foresaw a strong irresistible attraction about +Hal’s spirited independence. +</p> + +<p> +But, on the other hand, Lorraine was intensely sympathetic and understanding, +as well as beautiful; and it seemed strange indeed if any man she chose to +enslave could resist her. +</p> + +<p> +He watched Hermon bend his fair head down to her dark one, with an +affectionate, protective air, that was very becoming to him; and observed that +with Hal it was all sparring, and told himself Lorraine had nothing to fear. +</p> + +<p> +They toasted Hermon on his brief, and on the laurel wreath Dick announced he +already perceived sprouting on his manly brow. Hal said it was only a daisy +chain, or the halo of a cherubim; and the laurels were rightly sprouting on +Dick’s brow as a novelist. +</p> + +<p> +Hermon returned thanks in a witty, clever little speech, during which Lorraine +seemed scarcely able to take her eyes from his face, and Lord Denton recognised +more fully the extraordinary attraction such a man must wield, whether by +intention or quite unconsciously. +</p> + +<p> +He pictured him towering a head and shoulders above nearly every one around at +the law courts, with his clear-cut, fine face, looking yet more striking in the +severe setting of a wig and gown; and he knew that Lorraine had made no mistake +when she said he only wanted impetus and a chance to make a name for himself. +If he could rap out a dainty little speech like this at a moment’s +notice, wearing just that air of unpretentious, boyish humour, his path ought +undoubtedly to be a path of roses, petted by women, admired and appreciated by +men. +</p> + +<p> +“In conclusion,” he was saying, “may I suggest a toast to +Miss Pritchard? I am sure you will all join me in offering her our warmest +congratulations upon her sudden and unlooked-for promotion, from a somewhat +nondescript young person to a brilliant and beautiful society belle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Speech! speech!” cried Dick and Quin to her gleefully, noisely +rattling their glasses, and Hal got to her feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Ladies and gentlemen and Baby Alymer Hermon,” she began. +“You must allow me to acknowledge your kind toast by congratulating you +all, in return, upon the sudden and swift development of you powers of vision +and perspicacity: equalled only, I may say, by your extraordinary dullness in +not having observed long ago those traits for which you are pleased, at this +late hour, to offer me your congratulations. Before I sit down I should like to +suggest we all drink the healths of the celebrated actress who is our hostess, +of a bishop in the making—” signifying Quin; “a great +novelist in the brewing, and a gentleman justly celebrated for the eloquence +and ease with which he does nothing at all”—and she bowed to Lord +Denton. +</p> + +<p> +“Capital!” he exclaimed. “I am evidently dining in very +distinguished company tonight”; a little later, turning to Dick, he +added: “How soon, may I ask, will this great novel be procurable by the +general public?” +</p> + +<p> +Before Dick could reply, Hal intercepted gaily: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I think the carrots and turnips have fallen out as to which takes +precedence at a dinner-party: isn’t that so, Dick? And until the +difficult question is settled, progress halts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Something of the kind,” agreed Dick promptly; “and there is +also discord among the vegetable marrows and pumpkins on a similar question; +but when the Baby Brigade has settled the views of the Trade Unions, and +reversed the Osborne Judgment, we shall be able to proceed smoothly.” +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds a very extraordinary type of novel,” said Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“It is. I wanted, if possible, to write something even more imbecile than +has ever yet been written. I have not the patience for great length; nor the +wit for brilliant satire; nor the imagination for the popular, spicy, +impossible, ill-flavoured romance; so I have chosen the other line, adopted by +the great majority, and aim at purposeless, pointless imbecility.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is Hal the model for your heroine?” asked Hermon. +</p> + +<p> +When Hal’s indignation and epithets had subsided, Quin remarked that he +supposed the book fairly bristled with mothers, and with paragraphs of good +advice to them. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, yes,” Dick admitted. “There are certainly a good many +mothers—far more mothers than wives, in fact.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, naughty!” put in Lord Denton. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. It has to do with a theory. It is to bring out the common +sense of vegetables compared to humans. Humans condemn millions of women, +specially born for motherhood, to purposeless, joyless spinsterhood, all on +account of a prejudice. No green, brainless, commonplace vegetable would be +guilty of such unutterable folly as that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be too sweeping,” quoth Quin. “In the East End +women are still mothers from choice; and given decent, healthy conditions, they +would proudly raise an army to protect their country from her threatening foes. +It is not their fault that 50 per cent of their offspring are sickly, anaemic +little weeds.” +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds as if your book has a serious side in spite of its +imbecility?” suggested Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“Imbecility and madness are usually full of seriousness,” Dick told +her—“far more so than commonplace rationalism.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do you want to revolutionise society?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh dear no; what an alarming idea!” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what do you want?”—they asked him. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see all the superfluous unemployed spinsters busy, happy +mothers, patriotically contributing to raise a splendid fighting-force, for one +thing, which will certainly be regarded as an utterly imbecile idea by a +magnificently rational world.” +</p> + +<p> +“And have you any theory about it?” asked Lord Denton. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing but the worn-out, commonplace, absurdly natural theories of the +vegetable and animal kingdoms. My only chance is that, being so ancient, and so +absurdly natural, the modern world may mistake them for something entirely new, +and seize upon them with the fasionable avidity for novelties.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or they may lock you up,” suggested Quin. +</p> + +<p> +“In any case I’m afraid you’ll be too late,” Hal +commented, with a half grave, half sarcastic air; “for before your +theories can make any headway, England is likely to have given all her +life-blood to systems, and restrictions, and cut-and-dried conventions, utterly +regardless of her need for a strong protecting force to maintain her existence +at all. Taken in the aggregate, she never has bothered much about the primary +necessity for the best possible conditions for the mothers of the +future.” +</p> + +<p> +“What a learned sentence, Hal,” put in Lorraine, looking amused. +“Quite worthy of a militant suffragette.” +</p> + +<p> +“The announced suffragettes are not the only ones who care for +England’s future,” she said. “I suppose I care a good deal +because I’m in the newspaper world, and I know something of what she has +to contend against in the way of petty party spirit and the self-aggrandising +of some of her so-called leaders, who haven’t an ounce of true +patriotism, and only want to shout something outrageous in a very loud voice, +just to attract public attention.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think Bruce is right up to a certain point,” remarked Lord +Denton. “We can hardly contemplate the reinstitution of polygamy, but it +certainly ought to be the business of the State to see that every child born +into the country is given the best possible conditions in which to become a +good citizen and, if necessary, a good soldier.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t there a Poor Law for that express purpose?” asked +Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t speak of it,” commented Quin sadly. “Our Poor +Law, like so many excellent institutions, is mostly run on a wrong basis. Huge +sums of money are expended in procuring homes for homeless children, and the +last thing that seems to be considered is the suitability of the home. +Applications are accepted in a perfunctory, business-like way by guardians and +others—and perhaps an inspector takes a casual glance round; but the +moral aspect of the whole matter, as to character and habits, is mostly left to +chance. We, who are on the spot, often have to rescue children from the homes +the State has provided for them.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is more supervision, then, that you want?” asked Lord Denton. +</p> + +<p> +“It is a different sort of supervision altogether. It ought to be +woman’s work, not man’s—women who are paid and encouraged and +helped.” +</p> + +<p> +“But that might be defying some of the precious conventions,” put +in Hal with a touch of scorn—“making women too important, +don’t you know; and encouraging them to be something more than household +ornaments. We can’t have that, even for the sake of the future. It would +be too alarming. No; England will continue in her cast-iron rut of prejudice, +until most of her soul-power is dried up, and only the husk of a great nation +is left, to follow in the way of other husks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will go to the new, young, strong nation, and watch her splendid +rise,” quoth Dick. +</p> + +<p> +“Traitor!” they threw at him, but he was quite imperturbed. +“Strength and vigour are better than old traditions and an enfeebled +race; and somebody, somewhere on the globe, had got to listen to what I am +bound to teach.” +</p> + +<p> +“You dear old Juggins,” said Hal, “when England has passed +her zenith, and gone under to the new, strong race, you will be found sitting +meditating among cabbages and green peas, like Omar Khayyám in his rose +garden. The rest of us will have died in the fighting-line—except Baby, +and they will put him under a glass case, and preserve him as one of the few +fine specimens left of a decadent race—in spite of his +brainlessness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are we a decadent race?” asked Lorraine thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Only the House of Lords and a few leading Conservatives,” said +Lord Denton with flippancy. “The workingman who has the courage to refuse +to work, and the Liberal members who have the grit to demand salaries for +upsetting the Constitution, led by a few eminent Ministers who delight to +remove their neighbour’s landmark, and relieve his pocket, are the +splendid fellows of the grand new opening era of prosperity and +greatness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” put in Quin hopefully, “it is very fashionable to go +big-game shooting nowadays, and an African lion may yet chew up a few of +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor lion!” quoth Lorraine; “but what a fine finale for the +king of beasts, to chew up the despoilers of kings. Shall we go to the +drawing-room?” And she rose to lead the way. +</p> + +<p> +A Bridge table was arranged in an alcove for Hal and three of the men, and +Lorraine and Hermon sat over the fire for preference. They were far enough away +from the players to be able to speak of them unheard, and Hermon, in the course +of their conversation, mentioned that he saw something different in Hal +tonight to what he had noticed before. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine thought she was only very lively, but Hermon looked doubtful. He could +not express what he seemed to see, but in some way her liveliness held a new +note. He thought she had more tone and a new kind of assurance, and he tried to +explain it to Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect she’s had a jolly afternoon,” was all Lorraine +said, with a smile. “She has been to the Zoo with Sir Edwin +Crathie.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has she?” significantly, and Hermon raised his eyebrows. +“Are they still friends, then? I thought she only knew him +slightly.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was at the beginning,” and Lorraine glanced at him with the +smile deepening in her eyes. “There always has to be a +beginning—doesn’t there?” +</p> + +<p> +But no answering smile shone in Alymer Hermon’s face, rather a slight +shade of anxiety as he glanced across the room at Hal. “I should not like +a sister of mine to have much to do with Sir Edwin Crathie,” he said +gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not, you dear old Solemn-acre,” giving his arm a gentle +pat; “but a sister of yours would not have learned early to battle with +the world as Hal has.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely if she is less protected than a sister of mine would have +been, there is the greater cause for caution.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no comparision. A sister of yours would always have known +protection, and always rely on it, and if it failed her she might find herself +in difficulties and dangers she hardly knew how to cope with. Hal faced the +difficulties and the dangers early, and learnt to be her own defence and +protector. Some women have to, you see. It is necessary for them to wield +weapons and armour out of their own strength, and be prepared to be buffeted by +a heartless world, and not be afraid. If you had a sister, you would want to +keep her in cotton-wool, and never let any rough, enlightening experience come +near her. If I had a daughter, I should like her to have the enlightening +experience early, and learn to be strong and self-dependent like Hal; then I +shouldn’t be afraid of her future.” +</p> + +<p> +She was silent a few moments, then added thoughtfully: “I think it would +be better for society in general if the girls of the leisured classes knew more +about the world, and were better able to take care of themselves; meaning, of +course, with a pride like Hal’s in going straight because it’s the +game.” +</p> + +<p> +Hermon’s eyes again strayed to Hal’s pretty head, with its glossy +brown hair, and Lorraine continued after a pause: +</p> + +<p> +“If I’m afraid of anything with Hal, it is that she might let +herself get to care for some one who isn’t worth her little finger, or +some one who is out of her reach, or something generally impossible. She +wouldn’t care lightly; and she’d get dreadfully hurt.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely she couldn’t actually fall in love with a man like +Edwin Crathie?” he remonstrated. +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t thinking of Sir Edwin specially. She goes about a great +deal, you know, and meets many people. She has a strong vein of romance too. I +always feel I shall be very glad when she is safely anchored, if only it is to +the right man.” +</p> + +<p> +They were interrupted then by the Bridge players, who had finished their first +rubber, and Lord Denton persuaded Hermon to change places with him for a time, +and came to sit over the fire with Lorraine. Presently he too mentioned Hal. +</p> + +<p> +“She is the best woman Bridge player I have ever met,” he said. +“She seems to be developing into something rather out of the ordinary. +Hasn’t she grown much better-looking?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine smiled, a slow, sweet smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Alymer Hermon has just been praising Hal too,” she said; “I +like to hear you men admire her; it shows you can appreciate sterling worth as +well—well—shall we call it daring impropriety?” +</p> + +<p> +“You are a little severe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I? Well, you see, I know a good many men pretty intimately; and I +have gleaned from various confiding moments that it is not the working woman +chiefly, relying only on her own protection, who strays into the murky byways +and muddy corners of life. It is surprisingly often the direction of the idle, +home-guarded, bored young lady. Flip, if it came to a choice, I believe I would +put my money on the worker. It’s such a splendid, healthy, steadying +thing to have a real purpose and a real occupation; instead of just days and +weeks of idle enjoyment. And as for temptations! Well, they abound pretty fully +in both cases; it isn’t the amount of temptation likely to be encountered +that matters, so much as the quality of the individual armour to meet it +with.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, when it comes to being hungry and cold and having no +money?” he argued. +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t make much difference in the long run, except that one +hopes The Man Above will surely find a wider forgiveness for the woman who was +hungry and cold than for the woman who was just bored, but hadn’t the +grit to find an aim and purpose to renew and invigorate a purposeless life. All +the same, I’d like to see Hal safely anchored to a real good fellow. +Flip, if you could persuade her to try, she’d make you a splendid +wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what in the world should I do with a splendid wife?” laughing +frankly into her face—“what an appalling possession! Lorry, old +girl, I’ve got a splendid woman pal, and that’s good enough for me. +If I ever want a wife you shall have the privilege of finding me one: but it +won’t be until I am old and gouty, and then she had better be a hospital +nurse, inured to irritability.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite hopeless,” shaking her head at him, “but I +don’t particularly want to lose you as a friend, unless it is for Hal; so +we’ll say no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sensible woman! And now I must really be off. I like your friends, +Lorry. They’re very fresh. And of course Hermon is tremendous. You +haven’t overdrawn him at all. Only to be careful. Remember the burnt +child. A man like that ought to be made to wear a mask and hideous garments, +for the protection of susceptible females.” +</p> + +<p> +“He would need to speak through a grating trumpet as well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I suppose he would. Even I can hear the attraction in his voice. It +will be splendid when he begins to feel his feet in the law courts. We’ll +make a celebrity of him, shall we—just for the interest of it. But +it’s to be only a hobby, Lorraine, no entanglements, +mind”—and he laughed his low, pleasant laught. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, call it a hobby, or what you like—only keep him in mind +now, Flip. I’ve got him into an ambitious spirit that means everything, +if there is enough fuel at the beginning to keep it alight until it is a +glowing pile quite capable of burning gaily alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right you are. I like him. You fan the flame, and I’ll rake up the +fuel. I’ll speak to Hodson about him tomorrow. He’s always ready +to lend a hand to a promising junior.” +</p> + +<p> +When they had all gone, Lorraine lingered a few moments by her fireside. +</p> + +<p> +“A hobby!” she breathed; “yes, why not? Man-making is almost +equal to man-bearing. I have no son to spur up the Olympian heights; but what +might I not do for Alymer, if… if—” +</p> + +<p> +She placed her hands on the mantelshelf, and leaned her forehead down on them. +</p> + +<p> +“Alymer,” she whispered, a little brokenly, “I wonder if I +ought to be ready to give you all, and ask nothing? Perhaps make you all the +splendid man you might be, just for some one else, and get nothing myself but a +heart-ache?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<p> +The winter months passed more or less uneventfully and pleasantly. The case in +which Hermon had held his first brief, though in only a very secondary +position, was rather splendidly won. An unlooked-for development in it roused +public interest, and filled the Hall with spectators. Lord Denton went out of +curiosity, and was present when Hermon, as an unknown junior, made his first +public appearance. +</p> + +<p> +He was not the only man specially interested either; senior counsel on both +sides had its grandiloquent eye on the new-comer, so to speak—interested +to know how he would acquit himself. Afterwards they congratulated him very +warmly, and Denton went to tell Lorraine he had made a hit. +</p> + +<p> +“He looked splendid,” he declared enthusiastically; “and he +was delightfully calm and self-possessed. He’ll soon get another brief +now. You see.” +</p> + +<p> +He did; and the future began to look very full of promise to this favourite of +fortune. +</p> + +<p> +As Lorraine had predicted, his growing success filled his mind, and kept him +safe from many pitfalls; while her sympathetic companionship satisfied him in +other respects, and formed a substantial bulwark between him and the women who +would have tried to spoil him. +</p> + +<p> +He had other women friends as well, but Lorraine felt they were not dangerous, +by the way he talked of them. As long as he did not get foolishly engaged, and +cripple his career at the very outset, as he easily might while he had no +income to rely on, she did not fear. Lord Denton advised her to marry him to an +heiress as soon as possible, but Lorraine knew better than to risk an impeding +millstone of gold, and insisted he must just win his way through on the +allowance his father gave him. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime they were a great deal together, and though they seldom went to +any public place alone, they occasionally broke their rule; and it was known, +at any rate in theatrical circles, that Lorraine rarely went out with her own +old set, and had grown reserved and quiet. Hal knew something of the absorbing +friendship, but she still made light of it, and sparred with Hermon whenever +she saw him—“for his good.” +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact, she did not go quite so much to Lorraine’s as usual +herself; for many of the hours she had been accustomed to spend there she now +spent with Sir Edwin Crathie. All through the winter they continued to take +motor rides into the country; and often they went together to a quiet, +unfashionable golf club, where they were both learning to overcome the +intricacies and trials of that absorbing pastime. +</p> + +<p> +It was easy for Sir Edwin to silence curious tongues. He spoke of her quite +frankly as his niece, and Hal more or less acquiesced, because it was simpler +to arrange an afternoon’s golf, for Dudley had managed to become very +thoroughly absorbed in Doris, and she asked no questions. +</p> + +<p> +The only two to raise any real objections were Dick and Alymer Hermon. Dick had +to be talked round, and thoroughly impressed with Sir Edwin’s great age +(of forty-eight), and though Hal did not state the actual years, she was +perfectly correct in insisting that he was old enough to be her father; though +she need not perhaps have said it in quite such a tone of ridiculing an absurd +idea. +</p> + +<p> +Anyhow, Dick was pacified up to a certain point, and obliged to see that the +new friendship did her good, keeping her cheerful and hopeful in spite of her +bitter disappointment about Dudley’s engagement, and generally +brightening the whole of the winter routine for her. +</p> + +<p> +With Hermon it was rather different. He was less cosmopolitan than Dick, and he +insistently adhered to his first idea concerning what he would have felt had +Hal been his sister. +</p> + +<p> +Why she should have been specially interested did not occur to him. Dick, of +course, actually was a sort of brother, being much more so in a sense than many +real brothers, as far as personal interest and protection went. +</p> + +<p> +When Has was first left an orphan she had been a great deal with him, at his +own home, and they had always been special friends both then and since. +</p> + +<p> +But Hermon was in no sense either a brother or a special friend. They had never +done anything else but spar, however, good-naturedly; and Lorraine, in +consequence, twitted him once or twice about looking grave over Hal’s +doings. +</p> + +<p> +And Hermon had laughed, and coloured a little, saying something about a feeling +at the flat that they all had a sort of right in Hal, and he didn’t see +what that brute, Crathie—a Liberal into the bargain—wanted to be +taking her about for. +</p> + +<p> +He even went so far as to say something to Hal herself about it; one day, when +they were alone in Lorraine’s drawing-room, waiting for her to come in, +Hal had just told him frankly she had played golf with Sir Edwin the previous +day; and in a sudden burst of indignation Hermon exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t think how you can be so friendly with the man. Surely you +know what he is? He has about as much principle as my foot.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal had turned round and stared at him in blank astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“Goodness gracious!” she exclaimed, “what an outburst! What +has Sir Edwin done to hurt you?” +</p> + +<p> +But he stood his ground steadily. +</p> + +<p> +“You know it isn’t that. If you were my sister, I wouldn’t +let you go out with him as you do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what a comfort for me, I’m not. And really, Baby dear! +I’m much more adapted to be your mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Rot!” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her almost fiercely for a moment, scarcely aware of it himself, +but with a sudden, swift, unaccountable resentment of the old joke. Hal, +surprised again, backed away a little, eyeing him with a quizzical, roguish +expression that made him want desperately to shake her. +</p> + +<p> +“Grandpapa,” she murmured, with a mock, apologetic air, “you +really mustn’t get so worked up at—at your advanced years.” +</p> + +<p> +His face relaxed suddenly into laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know whether I want to shake you or kiss you… you… +you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks, I’ll take the shake,” she interrupted promptly. +“I certainly haven’t deserved such severe punishment as a +kiss.” +</p> + +<p> +He took a step towards her, but she stood quite still and laughed in his face; +and he could only turn away, laughing himself. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he was conscious that her attitude riled him. He was not in the least vain, +but all the same it was absurd that Hal should persist in being the one woman +who was not only utterly indifferent to his attractions, but seemed almost to +scorn him for them. In some of the others it would not have mattered in the +least—at any rate he thought so—but in Hal it was sheer nonsense. +</p> + +<p> +He liked her better than any one, except perhaps Lorraine, and he always +enjoyed their sparring; but of course there was a limit, and she really might +be seriously friendly sometimes; and anyhow he hated Sir Edwin Crathie. +</p> + +<p> +While he thought all this more or less vaguely, Hal watched him with +undisguised amusement. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t think so hard,” she said; “it spoils the line of +your profile.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hang my profile!” he exclaimed, almost crossly. “Can’t +you be serious for five minutes, you’re always so—so—” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all. I’m perfectly serious. A frown doesn’t suit you +one little bit. Imagine a scowl on one of Raphael’s cherubim.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to imagine anything so silly, and I’m not in +the least like a cherub. It would be more sensible if you want to do some wise +imagining, to think of Sir Edwin Crathie, and imagine yourself in the +devil’s clutches.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’ve not the smallest wish to be in Sir Edwin’s +clutches, so why should I try to imagine it?… and you’re not at all +polite, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m honest anyway; and I’ll warrant that’s more than +he can rise to.” +</p> + +<p> +“But really, dear Alymer,” reverting again to the mocking tone, +“at what period of your friendship with him have you had occasion to find +him out?” +</p> + +<p> +“Your sarcasm won’t frighten me. A man knows more about this sort +of thing than a girl. Of course he is all right in an ordinary way, but you are +so often with him… Considering his political career, it is positively +unpatriotic of you to be such close friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Such nonsense! Do you want me to be as bigoted and narrow-minded as +those Conservatives who are continually holding the party back, because they +are quite incapable of realising there are two sides to a question? I +don’t hold the same views as Sir Edwin at all. I’m not likely to, +being on the staff of the <i>Morning Mail</i>; but that isn’t any reason +why I should object to him as a friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; but his reputation might be.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal stamped her foot. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t stand there and talk about a man’s reputation in +that superior, self-satisfied fashion. What is it to you anyhow? My friendship +can’t possibly be any concern of yours.” +</p> + +<p> +She moved away with a restless, ruffled manner, and threw back at him: +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I’m awfully grateful to you for being so interested in +my welfare, but your concern is a little misplaced. I am quite capable of +taking care of myself, and have been for at least seven years.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked hurt, and about to retort, but at that moment Lorraine’s +latch-key sounded in the door, and Hal went out into the hall to meet her. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she remarked, as they +re-entered together. “Baby is in one of his insufferable, superior moods, +and is lecturing me on my friendship with Sir Edwin. And all because I casually +mentioned I had had a game of golf with him.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine looked a little surprised, but she only remarked laughingly: +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a little fad of his to lecture. I rather like it; but I +wonder he had the temerity to lecture you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unfortunately, lecturing doesn’t instill common sense,” put +in Hermon, “and it only requires common sense to understand Sir Edwin +Crathie isn’t very likely to prove a satisfactory friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean it only requires dense, narrow-minded self-satisfaction. +Really, Baby, if you are so good to look at, there is surely a limit even to +your permissible airs and graces”; and Hal tossed her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Now come, you two,” interposed Lorraine; “I don’t want +quarreling over my tea. Give her some of that sticky pink-and-white cake, +Alymer, and have some yourself, and you will soon both grow amiable +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“He hasn’t got his bib,” Hal snapped, “and he knows his +mother told him he was to have bread-and-butter first. You are not to spoil +him, Lorry. Spoilt children are odious.” +</p> + +<p> +“So are conceited women,” he retorted. “It’s only that +new hat that is making you so pleased with yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a dear hat,” she commented. “You have to pin a +curl on with it, else there’s a gap. I’m in mortal dread I shall +lose the curl, or find it hanging down my back.” +</p> + +<p> +No more was said on the subject of Sir Edwin, but when Hal was about to leave, +and found that Hermon was staying on, she pursed up her lips with an air of +sanctimonious disapproval and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to hurt any one’s feelings, but I’m not +at all sure <i>Mr</i>. Hermont is quite a nice friend for you, Lorraine. His +conversation is neither elevating nor improving, and I hardly like to go off +now and leave you alone with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t worry,” Lorraine laughed. “He is improving every +day under my tuition. I hope you can say as much for Sir Edwin.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can,” she answered frankly. “He has learnt quite a lot +since I took him in hand; especially about women and the vote. He has +positively made the discovery that they don’t all want it just for +notoriety, and novelty; but I’m afraid he won’t succeed in +convincing the other dense old gentlemen in the Cabinet. Good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +“Be circumspect, O Youth and Beauty. And don’t let him over-eat +himself, Lorry,” she finished, as she departed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap26"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<p> +When Hermon was finding fault with Hal’s friendship for Sir Edwin +Crathie, it had not apparently occured to him that his own friends and +relations were likely enough to take precisely the same view of his friendship +with Lorraine Vivian. He did not want to think it, any more than Hal had done, +and therefore he conveniently ignored the probability, and indulged in the +reflection that anyhow they were never likely to hear of it. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was through them, and their ill-chosen mode of interference, that the +first trouble arose, when that quiet, peaceful winter was over, and the spring +arrived with renewing and vigour, and with new happenings in other beside the +natural world. +</p> + +<p> +It was as though the one gladsome winter of pleasant companionship and +firesides was given to them all—Dudley and Hal, Ethel and Basil, Lorraine +and Hermon—before the wider issues of the future stepped in and claimed +their toll of sorrow before they gave the deeper joys. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon’s father and mother were at this time living in a charming +house at Sevenoaks, whither he went at least once a week to see them. +</p> + +<p> +His father had become more or less of a recluse, enjoying a quiet old age with +his books; but his mother was an energetic, bigoted lady of the old school, who +had allowed much natural kindliness to become absorbed in her devotion to +church precepts and church works. +</p> + +<p> +When it first reached her ears that her only son, of boundless hopes and +dreams, was continually with the actress Lorraine Vivian, she was horrified +beyond words. +</p> + +<p> +Undoubtedly the story had been much magnified and embroidered, and accepted as +a scandalous liaison or entanglement without any inquiry. To make matters +worse, Mrs. Hermon belonged so thoroughly to the old school that she could not +even distinguish between a clever celebrated actress and a chorus girl. +</p> + +<p> +The stage, to her, was a synonym which included all things theatrical in one +comprehensive ban of immorality and vice, with degrees, of course, but in no +case without deserving censure from the eminently respectable, well-born +British matron. She could not have been more upset had the heroine of the story +been the under housemaid; and indeed she placed actressess and housemaids in +much the same category. +</p> + +<p> +Of course the friendship must be stopped, and stopped instantly. What a mercy +of mercies she had discovered it so soon, and that now it might be nipped in +the bud. Just at the very outset of his career, too, which had so astonishingly +developed of late, and caused her such proud delight. +</p> + +<p> +That that surprising development, both in the career and the beloved son, might +have anything to do with this dreadful entanglement was not to be thought of +for a moment; and when Alymer’s father ventured to suggest thoughtfully +and a little wonderingly that the friendship had certainly not harmed the boy, +she turned on him with bitterness, ending up with the dictum that men were all +alike when there was a woman in the case, and could not possibly form an +unbiased opinion. +</p> + +<p> +After which, she went off to church to a week-day service, partly to pray for +guidance in a matter in which she had already firmly decided what line to take, +and partly to unburden her mind to her pet clergyman. Of course she must speak +to Alymer that very evening. How fortunate that it was one of the nights he +almost always came to Sevenoaks. +</p> + +<p> +If only he had lived at home it would never have happened. It was all that +hateful little flat where he lived with Bruce and St. Quintin. She ought never +to have given way so easily. If his father had docked his allowance, in order +to compel him to live at home, he would soon have got used to the daily train +journey, and it would have been far better for him. +</p> + +<p> +Now, of course, he was not likely to hear of it; and since he was making such +good headway in his profession, it certainly did seem a pity to risk upsetting +him. But no doubt a little quiet talk would convince him of the unwisdom of +allowing his name to be associated with an actress just now; and once more she +congratulated herself that she had heard in time. +</p> + +<p> +The Rev. Hetherington listened to her story with all the sympathetic horror +she could wish, and she felt buoyed up in her adamantine decision, although she +still harped on the intention of praying for guidance. +</p> + +<p> +The Rev. Hetherington, of morbid and woeful countenance, was one who looked +across a world glorious with spring sunshine, as if he saw nothing but the +earwigs, and black-beetles, and creepy, crawly things of existence, and he +promised readily to pray also: and perhaps God smiled the smile He keeps for +the good people who so often ask to be guided by His Will, when they have long +before decided exactly what that Will shall be. +</p> + +<p> +The pastor accompanied his parishioner to her door, walking slowly with her +through a garden bursting into a joyous splendour of crocuses, and snowdrops, +and promise of laughing daffodils in warm corners; and together they lamented +the terrible temptations of wicked sirens that beset the paths of splendid +young men in the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Not that he isn’t a good, affectionate son,” she finished, +“but he has always been made so much of—which is not in the least +surprising, and no doubt he has grown lax. Still, he might have remembered how +proud a name he bore, and, at least, have drawn the line at a frivolous, +painted actress. His father says she is very clever and quite well known, but +even he cannot deny she probably paints her face; and surely that is enough to +show what her mind is! How Alymer could endure it, I don’t know. He has +been used to such perfect ladies all his life, and the mere sight of paint +should disgust him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, of course,” murmured the mournful parson, who had great +hopes of a big subscription for his Young Women’s Bible Class, and was in +two minds as to whether to regard the present moment as auspicious, and +introduce the need of educating all young women in high and holy thoughts; or +whether it was wiser to wait until his companion were in a less perturbed frame +of mind. +</p> + +<p> +And the crocuses nodded and laughed, holding up their little yellow staves +gaily to the sunshine, and shouting to each other that it was spring, +clamouring to make the most of their great day, before the flowers came in +battalions to crowd them out of sight and mind. +</p> + +<p> +And the gentle little snowdrops whispered secrets to each other, which only +themselves could hear, about warmth and sunshine and the beauty of the new +spring world—too old in the wisdom of nature to pay any heed to the two +humans who would rather have had a world all maxims and rules, and rigid +straight lines from which no gladsome young hearts ever strayed. +</p> + +<p> +Finally the mournful clergyman went away without asking for his subscription, +having made mental decision that there would be far more trouble to come over +the painted woman, and yet more propitious occasion was likely to arise. +</p> + +<p> +And Alymer’s mother went into the house with set, severe lips; and pulled +down all the blinds that were letting in sunlight, for fear some of the carpets +got spoiled. +</p> + +<p> +She did not, however, venture into the library, where her husband sat in a +large bow window reading, with sunlight flooding all round him, and sunshine in +his quiet eyes, and the sunshine of a great man’s thoughts filling his +mind. +</p> + +<p> +He was too much of a philosopher to worry about his son, and, moreover he knew +Alymer well, and had great faith in his good sense; but he realised a mother +would take fright more quickly, and that it was as well to let her have her +talk with the boy, and comfort herself with the belief that she had saved him. +As long as she did not shut out his library sunlight, nor bring her pet +clergyman into his sanctum, he found it easy to balance her sterling +companionable qualities against certain others of a trying nature, and go +serenely on his philosophical way. +</p> + +<p> +Undoubtedly Alymer was a well-selected mixture of both parents. To his mother +he owed his fine features and his power of resolve when he chose to exert it; +and to his father his splendid stature, his quiet little humours, and the +old-fashioned, courtly protectiveness that had so quickly won Lorraine’s +heart. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was a mixture that might have borne no practical results if left to +itself, but rather a retarding. +</p> + +<p> +As Lorraine had so clearly seen, the spur of ambition, and a resolute +determination to succeed in other walks than that of the casual, charming, +petted favourite of fortune, were indispensable to bring his traits into a +harmony with each other that would achieve. +</p> + +<p> +It was to this end that she had given him of her best encouragement and help; +too old and too wise not to have seen that whatever her own personal feelings +towards him, it was extremely probable that she had helped him towards +realising his highest promise, for some one else to reap the deepest joy of it. +</p> + +<p> +Well, at any rate she had had the interest and the companionship, and these had +not been small things. He had come into her life just when it was wearying of +triumph and adulation; when lovely frocks and jewels, and hosts of +admirers—the very things she had craved for a few years earlier—had +commenced to pall in the light of the little real satisfaction to be won from +them. With some women perhaps they never palled. Perhaps each fresh conquest +renewed them, and each fresh triumph invigorated. +</p> + +<p> +In Lorraine’s complex character, the love of success was blended with a +love of the deeper and richer things of life. She was of those to whom, at +times, wide spaces, and fresh breezes, and the big, sweeping, elemental things +call loudly, above the noise of the world of fashion; and she knew what it was +to be filled with an aching nausea of all she had practically sold her soul to +win, and a yearning <i>nostalgia</i> for something that might satisfy the finer +instincts of her nature. +</p> + +<p> +And in a measure her interest in Hermon had filled the void. Whatever her +feeling had been in the beginning, it had undoubtedly merged now into a +definite purpose for his good, from which she meant to eliminate—if the +time came when he wanted to be free of her—any claim her heart might +clamour to assert. +</p> + +<p> +Her dealings with him were, for the time being, on a par with the generous +unselfishness she had shown towards her mother. For both of them she found the +courage and resolution to thrust herself in the background and give of her best +as the hour required. +</p> + +<p> +If the friendship had been permitted to develop quietly along these lines, a +future day might have witnessed Lorraine quite naturally outgrowing her +infatuation, and happily satisfied with the result of her unwearying interest +and effort; while Hermon, from his proud pinnacle of success, would still have +felt her his best friend. +</p> + +<p> +But at the critical moment the blundering, disturbing hand was permitted to jar +the harmony of the strings and spoil the melody. To what end?… who knows?… +Perhaps to some unseen, mysterious widening, and deepening, and learning +necessary to the onward march of Humanity towards its goal of Perfection. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap27"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<p> +Alymer knew directly he entered the house, and saw his mother, that something +had upset her, but he did not associate it with Lorraine, and kissed her with +his usual warm affection. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until after dinner, when they were alone in the drawing-room, that +the subject was broached, and then, with very little preliminary, Mrs. +Hermon—bending Divine Guidance to her own will—made a merciless +attack on “the painted woman.” +</p> + +<p> +It was no doubt the most unwise course of action conceivable; but Mrs. Hermon, +with her quiet and philosophical husband, and her only son, had led a +sheltered, smoothly flowing married life, after a yet more sheltered girlhood, +far removed from the passionate upheavals of society, and she had neither +practical worldly knowledge nor experience to aid her. +</p> + +<p> +She told him the story that had reached her ears through the jealousy of a +sister, whose only son was very plain, and a scapegrace, and who had been +fiendishly glad to have an opportunity to cast a slur upon the doings of the +successful, handsome, steady young barrister. +</p> + +<p> +“Douglas says he is always with her,” had been her sister’s +conclusion—“and that every one is talking about it, and there is a +dreadful lot of scandal. I thought it was only kind to tell you, as if he goes +on in the same way he will certainly ruin his career.” +</p> + +<p> +Then had come the parting shot. +</p> + +<p> +“We all think so much of Alymer, that I would not believe such a story of +him without proof. Douglas said he usualy went to her flat in Chelsea about +five, when he leaves Chambers, and I went twice to see if he came; and on each +occasion he strode along, and swung into the building almost as if he lived +there.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Hermon did not at first tell her son the source of her information, and he +did not ask her. Neither, somewhat to her surprise, did he attempt to exculpate +himself, nor to make any denial. +</p> + +<p> +He stood up on the hearth with that straight, strong look he had, when all his +faculties were acute, and heard her through to the end. Then she said in a hurt +voice: “You don’t deny it, Alymer. I have been hoping you went to +the flat on business, and there was some mistake.” +</p> + +<p> +“I deny everything that you have implied against Miss Vivian. The story +of the friendship is true.” +</p> + +<p> +His quiet self-possession seemed to disconcert her a little. She was prepared +for indignant denial, or angry remonstrance even; but this calm self-possession +was something almost new to her. True, he had always been calm and +philosophical, like his father; but this was something deeper and stronger than +she had yet known in him. +</p> + +<p> +“The fact is, mother,” he went on after a pause, “you have +run away with a totally wrong idea of Miss Vivian. If she were the sort of +actress you picture, you might perhaps be anxious; but all the same I think you +might have given me credit for rather better taste.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear, an actress is an actress—and everyone knows what that +is; and the mere fact of her calling, or whatever you like to name it, is +sufficient to seriously hurt your position.” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled a little. +</p> + +<p> +“I dispute the dictum that everyone knows whant an actress is, in the +sweeping sense you mean. I do not think you know, for one. I shall have to try +and persuade Miss Vivian to come and see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed I hope you will do no such thing.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“In any case I should not succeed. She is very proud, and would resent +patronage even more than you.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Hermon gave a significant sniff of incredulity, but she only said: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Alymer dear, you will give me a promise not to see her any +more—won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t do that, mother.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is out of the question. For one thing, I owe too much to Miss Vivian; +and for another, I am too fond of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“All the more reason you should try to break off the friendship at once, +before she has succeeded in any of her schemes to entangle you.” +</p> + +<p> +“She has no schemes to entangle me, as you put it. She has been a +splendid friend. I owe my first brief to her, and a good deal else +beside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, and no doubt you have already given her a good deal in return. +Quite as much as she deserves. There is no necessity for you to ruin your +whole career, just because she happens to like being seen out with you.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a silence, in which Alymer seemed to be cogitating how best to disarm +his mother’s fears; and also to be reminding himself of her natural +ignorance on theatrical matters, and his own need to be patient therefore. At +last he said quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Vivian only wants to help me in my profession; and I can only tell +you again she has been a splendid friend to me. Aunt Edith has told you a great +deal of nonsense. She has always been glad to pick holes in me if she could. +Most of it is lies, and you must take my word for it. It is useless to discuss +the matter. I am sorry you have been so worried, but I don’t know how to +make you understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand far better than you think; and I know you ought to end the +friendship at once. I want you to do so.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is out of the question. But you need not worry. You must just forget. +No...” as she attempted further remonstrance; “don’t go on. I +cannot listen to any more against Miss Vivian. I think I will go and smoke a +pipe with the pater. Shall you come and sit with us?” And a certain +expression in his eyes that reminded her of his father in his most decisive +moods told her he meant to say no more. She rose at once. +</p> + +<p> +She had failed, and she knew it, but she had not the smallest intention of +giving in. She had started on the wrong tack, that was all. Of course the boy +was too chivalrous to go back on a friend, particularly as he believed he was +under some obligation to her. Her plan of mercilessly tearing the lady to +pieces had not been a good one, but she would think of something else, and save +him in spite of himself. +</p> + +<p> +And comforting herself with this reflection, she allowed the subject to drop, +and went with him to the library. Her next plan should be a more sure one. She +would work in secret with an agent to help her, who could see the enormity of +the danger, and appreciate more thoroughly than his father the urgent need to +interfere. She had already a vague plan in her head that she believed an +excellent one, and which she could put into execution immediately. +</p> + +<p> +It was an old-fashioned, time-worn plan, but Mrs. Hermon was a woman of +old-fashioned ideas, and she did not know but that she was the originator. She +had not the least idea that quite the commonplace course of action in these +questions was to send a secret emissary to the lady, to reason with her, or +plead with her, or bribe her, according to her status, on behalf of the +innocent young victim of her charms. The great thing, she imagined, was to find +a suitable agent. +</p> + +<p> +Now, besides the sister who was jealous, she had a bachelor brother of a +certain well-known stamp. A good-looking, aristocratic, well-preserved man of +independent means; and though over sixty years of age, still a gallant, with +not much in his handsome head beyond a pathetic desire to continue to +captivate, and a belief that he was as invincible as ever. +</p> + +<p> +Very shady stories had more than once been written down to his account, but he +had the wit always to rise above them and sail serenely on to do more mischief. +</p> + +<p> +His sister rightly surmised that he would have considerable knowledge +concerning actressess and the theatrical world, and without troubling to +consult her husband, she took him into her confidence and unburdened all her +trouble. +</p> + +<p> +“Phew!” murmured the elderly beau, “so the young scamp has +got entangled with an actress, has he? Shocking!… shocking!… But don’t +worry, Ailsa; we’ll soon square the lady one way or another. Do +you—er—happen to know if she is of the nature one can offer money +to?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not. Alymer insists she is a lady in the real sense; though, if +so, why did she go on the stage?” +</p> + +<p> +“Love of excitement, I dare say. Is she, by any chance, a chorus +girl?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not exactly; though really I fail to see any difference in degree +between one actress and another. They are all on the stage; and no doubt they +all paint their faces and snare good-looking young men.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt,” agreed the man, who had more than once made it his +business to snare an unsuspecting, trusting girl. +</p> + +<p> +“And you will go to see her, and persuade her to drop him; won’t +you, Percy? It is no use talking to his father; he does not see the matter in a +serious enough light. He believes Alymer will soon tire of her. So he may, but +in the meantime she may irredeemably injure his career. Of course, if it is a +question of money we will find it all right; but whatever it is, try to cut the +whole matter off entirely. Make love to her yourself, Percy, if that is what +she wants—you know you have always been rather good at that sort of +thing”; and she smiled at her own astonishing wordly wisdom, feeling +almost rakish at having framed such a sentence. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” with a deprecatory shake of his head, that did not, however, +hide a certain fitful gleam in his eyes, “I am getting too old for those +kinds of pranks now, but I will do my best to—er—” For a +moment he wondered whether he meant to do his best to make love to the actress +himself, or try to rescue Alymer, and finally finished: “follow out your +wishes and suggestions.” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you would, Percy. It was a good idea of mine to ask you. +Don’t mince matters at all, will you? Make her thoroughly understand she +has got to give him up under any circumstances, or we shall, +well—er—take proceedings if it is possible. Anyhow, Alymer must be +guarded against himself, and his father is too unpractical to help, so we must +do it alone.” +</p> + +<p> +“I quite agree. Alymer is an exceptionally fine fellow, with an +exceptionally promising future; and if he cannot see for himself how foolish a +scandal would be just at the outset, we must, as you say, save him on our own +account. I am fond of Alymer, very fond, and very proud, and I will do all in +my power over the matter. What is the actress’s name, did you say?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I mentioned it; but Edith told me in her letter. I +will look for it.” +</p> + +<p> +She went to a writing-table, and returned with the epistle in her hand, +glancing through it until she came to the required information, when, without +looking up, she read, “Lorraine Vivian.” +</p> + +<p> +At the same time a sudden, curious, startled expression crossed the faded eyes +of the white-haired gallant, and he turned quickly aside, stroking his +moustache with a slightly nervous air. +</p> + +<p> +“Eh? Do you mean the well-known celebrity?” he asked. “Surely +not Miss Vivian of the Queen’s Theatre?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose so. I never go to the theatre, so I never hear these names. +Edith certainly writes as if she were well known. Does it makes any +difference?” she asked, as he was silent. “Don’t you want to +go? If you don’t I must find some one else; that is all.” +</p> + +<p> +“But certainly I will go. I was only a little surprised. She must be a +good deal older than Alymer.” +</p> + +<p> +“That only makes it worse. No doubt she is no longer pretty enough for +older men, so she has to set her cap at young ones, who are flattered by her +attention. I certainly thought Alymer had more sense—but there—one +never knows, and these women are very clever, I believe.” +</p> + +<p> +“D—d—I mean—extraordinarily clever; but we can be +clever too, and I dare say we can contrive to outwit her.” +</p> + +<p> +A little later he went away to catch a train back to town, leaving his sister +reassured and hopeful; but as he went he repeated to himself in a low, +incredulous voice: “Lorraine Vivian… Lorraine Vivian… How strange that I +should be asked to undertake a mission that will cause us to meet again. I +wonder if you will recognise me quickly? I flatter myself, even white hair has +not destroyed my claims to a woman’s favour.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap28"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<p> +Lorraine had not the smallest idea of what was coming upon her. She knew +perfectly well herself that it would be most unwise for a rising young +barrister to get talked about with an actress known to have a husband living, +and it had made her a great deal more cautious than she would otherwise have +bothered to be. +</p> + +<p> +Moreover, Alymer, seeing nothing to gain by making known his mother’s +fears, preferred not to annoy her with any account of them. To say that he was +wholly unaffected by it, however, would be to say too much. He was, indeed, +exceedingly and bitterly annoyed with his interfering aunt, who had obviously +tried to make trouble for some petty motive of jealousy. He only hoped that his +mother would take her line from him and his father, and maintain a dignified +front, unmoved by his aunt’s tale-bearing gossip. +</p> + +<p> +He was slightly affected in another way also. It was almost the first time he +had seriously considered what the world might say if their great friendship was +known. He knew it well enough to believe it would be in haste to put the worst +construction on it, though their own immediate friends might stand by them +loyally. +</p> + +<p> +It caused him to consider that construction in a light he had hitherto been +protected from by circumstances, for it thrust forward an aspect they had +successfully kept in the background. It made him ask the question, What was he +prepared to do if his aunt continued her persecution, and some sort of change +had to be made in the friendly, delightful intercourse? +</p> + +<p> +He wondered a good deal what Lorraine’s own attitude would be. Would she, +perhaps, now that she had given him his start, cut all the friendship off for +his good, and return to her old friends and admirers? He shrank from the +contemplation of such a solution undisguisedly, and meant to continue their +pleasant relations if possible. +</p> + +<p> +He certainly wished no change whatever, if it could be avoided. Lorraine meant +everything to him just then, and he could not but know how much his +companionship and affection had come to mean to her. +</p> + +<p> +So the next day he paid his customary visit, and talked as usual of many +things, but said no word of what had passed the previous night. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine’s room was full of violets and snowdrops, cushions of them on +every side, in lovely array. He moved about looking at them, and she watched +him from a low chair by the fire, clad in some new spring gown of an exquisite +mauve shade, that seemed to tone with the violet-bedecked room. +</p> + +<p> +It gave her dark eyes something of a violet tint, and her hands looked as white +and delicate as the snowdrops. Moving about from mass of blossoms, Alymer, +glancing at her, thought she looked younger and lovelier than ever. +</p> + +<p> +“You have a spring air about you,” he said, “and all the room +seems full of spring. There is something about it all I like better than the +lilies and roses and malmaisons usually making a display.” +</p> + +<p> +“I sent them all to the dining-room,” she told him. “Every +spring is such a beautiful new thing, it has to be allowed to reign supreme for +a little while in here. It gives me rather an ache to see them, all the +same”—after a pause—“they make me dream of the smell of +the new woodland, that delicious, damp, earthy smell of spring, and all the +young, joyful bursting of buds and springing of seeds and the mating birds, and +the showers that make the leaves glisten. I feel as if I should like to tramp +out across the country in such a shower, and get healthily wet, and be a real +bit of the spring for just one week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you go? You are not looking very well, and the country +air would probably do you no end of good.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to go alone, and I do not know who I could take. Hal +is not able to leave, and mother would merely be bored to tears, and Flip +Denton is at Monte Carlo. There is no one really but you and Hal and Flip who +would fit in with my spring mood. Any one else would strike a discordant +note.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I could come.” +</p> + +<p> +The wish escaped him almost involuntarily, as, with the sight of the spring +flowers and the spring scent in his nostrils, he too felt the call of the +fresh, wild, vigorous things in his blood. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine looked at him with a curious expression on her face. Why, she +wondered, did he not seriously contemplate coming? Why did he so steadily +pursue, as far as she was concerned, his serene and passionless path? She +believed he cared more for her than for any one else; and, if so, was it +possible the ache sometimes in her heart for a closer bond and resolutely +strangled, had no counterpart in his hot, vigorous youth? +</p> + +<p> +Then he looked suddenly into her eyes, as if to see whether she had heard his +wish, and what she thought of it. And as their gaze met, she saw the blood +mantle to his face, and a half-shamed expression creep into it, as if he had +been discovered in a thought that should never have been permitted. +</p> + +<p> +He looked away again to the flowers, and Lorraine turned her eyes to the fire, +with a swift wonder in her mind. She felt that something had transpired since +they last parted—something she did not know of, and that was entirely +different to anything that had crossed their path before. Some new thought had +been put into his mind. Something that made him give her that half-shy, +half-wondering look. +</p> + +<p> +She gazed hard at the fire, and her pulses began to beat a little fitfully. She +knew instinctively that something had come suddenly into being between them, +which neither might name, and which was the oldest thing in the world. +</p> + +<p> +And then across her mind, as once before, swept with swift pitilessness a +vision of what might have been; of what life might have held for her had she +been among the blessed—an aching, tearing longing for a youthful hour she +had irretrievably missed. She drew her hand across her eyes, ignoring his +presence, shutting him out, seeing only the heavenly joy she had missed. +</p> + +<p> +Supposing such a moment had come to her with such a man, when she, like him, +was in the first flush of youth and beauty; of dreams and hopes, and rich +believing. What a knight for a lovely maid! What a lover to dream of bashfully +and fearfully; and with all her soul one thought of him. +</p> + +<p> +From her vantage ground of much doing and much knowing, she looked back +yearningly to the bloom and springtide of life, when all splendid things are +possible, and any day may bring the splendid knight. +</p> + +<p> +And instead had come... ah, what? +</p> + +<p> +Well! For her it had been the wolf in sheep’s clothing, who, beside all +he had robbed her of, had taken all her chance of the one great awakening to +blinding joy. Now she could only look upon the joy from afar, seeing a barrier +of fateful years, and, like a drawn sword at the gate of her dream, the stern, +unyielding decree that has echoed unchanged down the long centuries: +“Thou shalt not—” +</p> + +<p> +Alymer was silent too, standing with the thoughtful expression on his face that +was so attractive, probing a little nervously into that wish he had expressed, +and wondering a little uncertainly just what it meant. +</p> + +<p> +Then Lorraine got up. +</p> + +<p> +“You are grave, <i>mon ami</i>; and it is the springtime. Grave thoughts +are for the autumn of life—recklessness better becomes the joyful +spring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you ever reckless nowadays?” he asked, watching her graceful +movements as she bent down and buried her face in a cushion of violets. +</p> + +<p> +“I am when I smell violets. They may be modest and retiring little +flowers, but they hold spring rapture and spring lavishness and spring desiring +in their scent all the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you are reckless now?” +</p> + +<p> +What was it made him dally thus upon dangerous ground? What was it made him +speak to Lorraine as he had never spoken before, on the very day after his +mother’s admonition? Why did his immense height and strength and the +young vigour in his blood suddenly blot out the years that lay between them, +and sweep into his soul, the knowledge of his masculinity and might, which of +its own nature possessively dominated her femininity? +</p> + +<p> +They seemed all at once to have strayed into an atmosphere, born of that +warning admonition, and of their talk, of the reckless, creative spring; and +because, in spite of his youth, he was very much a man, and she was a +dangerously attractive woman, his pulses leapt fitfully and eagerly with the +swift ache that has existed ever since God made man and woman. +</p> + +<p> +Without looking up, Lorraine felt this. The very air about them seemed charged +with it, and she too, under some spell of springtime, moved into closer +proximity to the splendid knight. She brushed against his arm unconsciously; +and looking down on the top of her dark head, he said half-shyly: +</p> + +<p> +“You somehow seem such a little thing today, Lorraine, I feel as if I +could pick you up, as one does a small child.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t,” with a low laugh—“just think of +my dignity.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you are not dignified today. You seem as young and light-hearted as +the springtime. I feel as if I must be years older than you.” +</p> + +<p> +She raised her face suddenly, with yearning eyes: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, let us emulate the spring this once—let us both be young and +foolish and real, and pretend there isn’t any one else in the +world.” +</p> + +<p> +For one second he looked at her with wondering incredulity, then, with a +tender little laugh he suddenly bent down and folded his arms round her till +she seemed to vanish altogether into his embrace, and kissed her on the lips. +</p> + +<p> +“The scent of violets has intoxicated us,” he said, and kissed her +again. +</p> + +<p> +Then he gently pushed her into her big, deep chair. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going now. I only ran in to see how you were after that bad +headache. You must bring the lilies and malmaisons back tomorrow, or I shall +be offending so grievously you will forbid me the flat. Good-bye!” And +without another word he went away out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine sat quite still, and let the spell wrap her round for the precious +moments that she could yet hold it. Of course it could not stay. In an hour at +most she would be her old, brain-weary self again, with the best of her youth +behind her; while he was still there on the threshold, young and strong and +free. But even this one short hour was good. Life had not given her many such. +She would fence it round with silence, and solitude, and the scent of violets. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer went out into the streets wondering at himself vaguely, and yet with a +pleasant glow of memory. He felt it bewildering that Lorraine Vivian, whose +favours were so eagerly sought by men, should have allowed him to kiss her. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed something apart altogether from her generous friendship and helpful +influence. It made him pleased with himself, and filled his mind with a yet +greater tenderness to her. He knew so much now of her early difficulties and +following troubles—of the frivolous, unprincipled mother, and the long, +uphill fight. She had honoured him with her confidence in spite of his youth, +and now— +</p> + +<p> +He quickened his steps, and his pulses leapt yet more fitfully. Spring was in +the air and in his blood, and one of the recognised beauties of London had been +gracious to him beyond all dreaming. +</p> + +<p> +It was enough for the present hour. Why ask any inconvenient questions and +spoil it all? Let the future look after itself. +</p> + +<p> +Only one thought for a moment cast a little shadow upon his ardour. It crossed +his mind, for no accountable reason, to wonder what Hal would think. He was a +little afraid she would strongly disapprove. +</p> + +<p> +But, after all, if she did, what matter? He owed nothing to Hal, and there was +no reason why her views should disturb him in the least. Of course it did not… +and yet… Hal’s good opinion was a thing worth having; and, in short, he +hoped she would not know. +</p> + +<p> +It was not that she was straight-laced. She was too near the heart of humanity +through her daily toil to be other than a generous judge; but she was also a +creature of ideals for herself and for those who would be among her best +friends; and she would have known unerringly that no great, consuming love had +drowned his reason and filled his senses. +</p> + +<p> +It was for that she would have judged him; and for that he would have stood +before her direct gaze ashamed. One might be gay and irresponsible and merry, +but there were just one or two things which must not be allowed in that +category. Instinctively, he knew that in Hal’s view he would have +transgressed—not because he felt too much, but because he felt too little +to be justified. +</p> + +<p> +But why need she know? Why need any one know? He did not think his mother would +follow up any further the story she had been told, and he would see his aunt +about it personally. It was better to have it out with her, lest she took upon +herself to interview Lorraine, and make more trouble still. +</p> + +<p> +He ran up the stairs to the flat, two steps at a time; and scrambled to get +changed for the dinner to which he was going, still feeling a pulsing thrill +that, among all men, he was Lorraine Vivian’s chosen friend. +</p> + +<p> +In another flat—a bachelor one in Ryder Street—an elderly beau, +likewise dressed for a dinner-party, though with the utmost care and precision, +instead of a scramble. And to himself he said, as he took a long, last look at +the image he loved: +</p> + +<p> +“I must go tomorrow morning and settle this little matter about Alymer. +No doubt Lorraine will be amazed to see how well-preserved I am. She cannot +have any real feeling for such a boy, and, after all, a good-looking man of the +world—” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled to himself as over a thought that pleased him, and rang for his +servant to go out and hail a taxi. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap29"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<p> +It was not difficult for Alymer to persuade himself that a little diplomacy on +his part would probably assuage his aunt’s wish to upset his friendship, +and incidentally allay his mother’s fears; but, as it happened no one +having his welfare so exceedingly at heart over this matter with the actress +was in any degree as amenable or as quietly pacified as he imagined. +</p> + +<p> +Another interview took place between his mother and his aunt, in which the +latter advised writing to Miss Vivian direct to tell her what his father and +mother thought of the friendship, and that an uncle of his would call upon her +at once. +</p> + +<p> +To say that the letter was an insult is to put it mildly, though at the same +time it was not so much through intention as ignorance. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine read it with silent amazement, and thought the writer must be mad. It +seemed quite incredible that any lady in the twentieth century should +apparently be so ignorant concerning the status of a celebrated actress. It was +evidently taken for granted that she was an adventuress of the worst type. +</p> + +<p> +She was naturally somewhat angry and indignant, but decided it was not worth +while to take any notice, and merely awaited with some curiosity the visit of +the uncle who was to expostulate with her, and, practically, offer her terms. +</p> + +<p> +He came at about twelve o’clock, and he did not give his name, merely +asking to see Miss Vivian on a matter of business. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine dressed with special care, and looked her best when she quietly +entered the drawing-room. She gave an order to her maid with the door half +opened, in the most casual and imperturbed of voices, then she came slowly in, +closed the door behind her, and advanced towards the figure standing on the +hearth. +</p> + +<p> +When she had taken two steps she stood still suddenly, and in a voice that was +rasping and harsh, exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>You</i>!—” Alymer’s uncle squared his shoulders, +stroked his white moustache with a gallant air, and replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—er—Lorraine. We meet again, you see. I may +say—er—I am very glad indeed that it is so,” and he advanced +a step with outstretched hand. +</p> + +<p> +But Lorraine was rooted to the spot where she stood, and a sudden, sharp +fierceness seemed to burn in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Have—<i>you</i>—come—about—Alymer—Hermon?” +she asked in slow, cutting tones, as if each word was hammered out of a +seething whirlpool of suppressed emotions. +</p> + +<p> +“Alymer is my nephew, and his mother asked me to come +and—er—talk to you about him. She is a good deal perturbed on his +behalf—er—because—” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not want to know any more than I am able to gather from the +extraordinary epistle I received from her this morning. What I should like to +know is, did you agree to come here on this errand, knowing who I was?” +</p> + +<p> +The faded blue eyes of the carefully dressed old roué began to look +uncomfortably from one object to another; anywhere, indeed, but into those +scorching orbs, with their suppressed fires. +</p> + +<p> +Then he took his courage in his hands, and tried again. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Lorraine, you seem to be taking rather a theatrical view of a +very commonplace matter. Of course it is bad for the boy to get mixed up in a +scandal, just at the beginning of his career, or, for the matter of that, +talked about with a celebrated actress whose husband is known to be living +somewhere. I have come to you as a man of the world, to ask you as a woman of +the world to be generous in the matter, and help me to set the minds of his +parents at rest at once—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! It was as a man of the world you came to me before; but then +I—I”—she gave a low, unpleasant laugh—“I +wasn’t a woman of the world, you see, until you had taught me, and left +me.” +</p> + +<p> +He did not quite know what the laugh meant, but now his old eyes were roaming +over the beauty that was yet hers, and memory was stirring, and something made +him reckless. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t speak of it like that,” he pleaded drawing a little +nearer. “I know I didn’t perhaps treat you quite well; but if there +are any amends I can make now?—If you will let us be friends +again?—” +</p> + +<p> +“Amends—amends. What do I want with amends from such as you?” +And her eyes flashed dangerously. He retreated quickly, with a hurt, rather +cowed expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Fate has thrown us together again and I am still a +bachelor—and I have money—” +</p> + +<p> +“Do please try not to insult me any further.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine had grown calmer, though the dangerous look was still in her eyes, and +she moved away to the window, leaving a large space between them, and +half-turned her back to him. +</p> + +<p> +“I have already burnt the epistle I received from Mrs. Hermon—its +insults were too utterly foolish to notice. You may go back and tell her her +son has never received any harm from me, and I absolutely decline to discuss +the question any further. As for yourself—you will doubtless find a +taxi on the rank, just outside.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear lady, I cannot go back leaving the matter like that.” +</p> + +<p> +He grew emboldened again, now that he could not see her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I am here to plead on Alymer’s behalf. If you are fond of him, you +must at least listen to reason for his sake.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not from you. And who are his people that they dare to treat me like +this? . . . First an insulting letter, and then an emissary such as +you—” +</p> + +<p> +“Alymer is my nephew, and his mother is my sister, and therefore I am a +most suitable emissary, except for a certain incident of long ago, which has +long been consigned to oblivion by both of us, I am sure. The boy is young. He +is on the threshold of life and a great career. What will be the result, do you +think, if you refuse to listen, and perhaps ruin his prospects for your own +pleasure?” +</p> + +<p> +She turned back to him a moment, and the smouldering fires leaped up. +</p> + +<p> +“I was young. I was on the threshold of life. What did you care for my +youth or my future? What do other men like you care? My mother was lax, and you +knew it. I believe you gave her diamonds. And now you come to me and ask me to +spare your nephew—<i>you</i> come—<i>you</i>!...” and the +scorn in her voice lashed him like a stinging whip. +</p> + +<p> +But he tried valiantly to stand his ground, though all his fine attire and air +of bravado could not save his visible shrinking into a faded, dissipated, +worthless-looking old rogue. +</p> + +<p> +“If you won’t listen to any plea from me, will you permit me to +make one from his mother, and appeal to the woman in you to realise her +anxiety?” Lorraine turned again to the window and looked out upon the +silver, shining river. And suddenly it was as though all her soul rose up in +arms. She felt with swift passion that it seemed to matter so much in the world +that a young man with a promising future should not run any risk of harm from +an older woman. +</p> + +<p> +But if it was a young woman, and an older man, what did it matter then! Why, +the very man who would have hurt her could allow himself to plead for another +young thing, if that other were a man. +</p> + +<p> +Doubtless he would argue, as all the rest of them, that years in men craved the +freshness and revivifying of youth it was only natural, and a woman mattered so +much less. But the mature woman herself, she has no right to indulge in any +longing for that same freshness and revivifying. +</p> + +<p> +Ten years ago this man had been just at the age, and with just the handsome, +aristocratic appearance, in spite of iron-grey hair, that so often attracts a +girl in the early twenties. She scorns boys at that age, and feels the +compliment of being chosen by a man of the world before the many older women +she cannot choose but see would gladly be in her place. That it is her youth +and not herself that holds the attraction is unknown to her, and a clever man +may often dupe her young affections. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine, with her romantic, imaginative temperament, had grown to believe +herself in love with him, and then had followed the old, sordid story of insult +and her consequent disillusionment. The memories stung her now with a bitter +stinging heightened by the feeling that life cared so much more for +Alymer’s welfare than it had ever done for hers. +</p> + +<p> +And then that appeal to her woman’s feeling to sympathise with the +perturbed mother. +</p> + +<p> +Well, because she was his mother, surely she was blessed enough. What had +she—Lorraines—to place against that great fact? She felt painfully +that in spite of her success her life was pitifully, hopelessly barren, scarred +this way and that, torn and rent and damaged by mistake upon mistake which +could never now be rectified. +</p> + +<p> +A nausea of it all made her feel in those tense moments, gazing at the serenely +flowing river, that had she a child she would be borne away on the smooth +silver water with her little one, out of the fret and turmoil, to some quiet +nest in the cliffs at its mouth; and there for the years that were left her she +would fill her days with the peaceful, homely joys that had never yet been +hers. +</p> + +<p> +But how could she go alone? Only in the uneventful days to find her loneness +intensified a thousand times, and without escape. +</p> + +<p> +No; the river would flow on to that serene haven; but never for ever would she +and a little one of her own be borne on its motherly bosom to the country of +little things and peacefulness. +</p> + +<p> +And the thought only stung her afresh; driving the sting in deep and sharp +while this man remained under her roof. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” he said at last; and in the interval his voice seemed to +have regained some of its polished, self-possessed satisfaction. “I see +you are deep in thought. You were always tender-hearted, and I felt I should +not appeal to your womans heart in vain.” +</p> + +<p> +Her face was turned away, so that he could not see her expression, nor read +what was in her eyes, and purposely she let him go on. +</p> + +<p> +“You will, I know, let me go back with the message Mrs. Hermon is waiting +for so anxiously. It will be quite simple. No doubt you have countless +admirers, and if you summon another, and let Alymer think he is replaced, after +the first hot-headed wrath he will quickly become normal again, and apply all +his faculties to his profession. I know you are too clever not to appreciate +just everything involved, and too generous not to give the young man his best +chance.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he cleared his throat, stroked his moustache, and waited, wondering a +little why she did not speak. He squared his shoulders again, and glanced round +to catch a reflection of himself in the overmantel, then once more stroked his +moustache with a sleek air of growing satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +It had certainly been a most ticklish undertaking, and but for his diplomacy, +he believed one foredoomed to failure. But of course Lorraine was a woman of +the world, with a larger mixture of the other kind of womanliness, perhaps, +than was usual, and he in his perspicacity had deftly appealed to both. +</p> + +<p> +Then Lorraine turned round, and at the first glimpse of her face his own fell, +and suddenly he seemed to be shrinking visibly; as if he would not ungladly +have vanished through the floor. +</p> + +<p> +She took a step or two forward, and stood in front of him with her head held +high, and those same scorching fires in her eyes; and there was something +almost over-awing in the taut intensity of her whole attitude, mental and +physical. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” she said, in a cold, firm voice. “You may not go back +and tell Alymer’s mother that I agree to cease my friendship with him for +you and for her. You may go back and tell her that because when I was young you +had no thought of my future, and no consideration for my youth, I refuse +absolutely to parley in the matter at all. I shall not change my course of +action by one iota. I shall not take any single thought for the future. The +future may take care of itself. If you can estrange Alymer from me, that is +your affair. Rather than estrange him myself, I will bind him closer. That is +my answer to you, and to the <i>lady</i>,” with fine scorn, “who +sat down yesterday and penned that unheard-of letter to a fellow-woman she knew +nothing whatever against. Yet I think I could have charged that to her evident +ignorance concerning theatrical matters, and forgiven her, if a monstrous irony +had not sent you to plead her cause—” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Lorraine,” he interposed, but she stopped him with an +imperious gesture and continued: +</p> + +<p> +“There is nothing for you to say, nothing that I am in the least likely +to listen to. You have evidently misunderstood my character from first to last. +Probably you even credited me with wantonness in those far-off days when I was +fool enough to believe all you swore to me of love and devotion. However that +may be, you tried to set my feet in the wrong path, and when it suited you, +gave me a push that further evil might conveniently widen the breach between +us. Probably you have done much the same again since, and with as little +compunction. What I have to say to you now is just this, once again. Your +mission today is not merely useless; it has considerably aggravated any danger +there may have been. Because of every girl a middle-aged man has treated as you +sought to treat me I shall hold Alymer to his friendship if I can, and use any +influence I may have to increase rather than decrease his visits. +</p> + +<p> +“It may be fiendish of me. I don’t know. I am no angel; not even +the obliging soft-hearted fool you and Alymer’s mother seem to have +concluded I might be. And what is more, if I had a vein of kindliness and +unselfish consideration, you have done your utmost to stamp it out. +</p> + +<p> +“Most of us are half good, and half bad. Today, you have given the devil +in me an impetus such as it has seldom had before. That is your affair. Go back +and explain the real truth if you dare. Tell Mrs. Hermon you found the low +adventuress a devil, and one that you yourself had tried to help to make. Tell +her”—again with that low, unpleasant laugh—“that you +fear the worst for Alymer. +</p> + +<p> +“That is all. Now you can go.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more he futilely tried to speak, but she only waved him aside, and walked +with a haughty, scornful step ahead of him. +</p> + +<p> +“Jean,” she called to her maid, as she passed through the little +hall, “Will you open the door for this gentleman?” +</p> + +<p> +In her own room, she slid down into a large cushioned chair and sobbed her +heart out. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap30"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<p> +It was there Hal found her. By the merest chance she had run up to the flat at +her midday hour, to ask a question about Sir Edwin Crathie, and a rumour +concerning him that she felt an imperative need to have answered. When she saw +Lorraine in tears the question was instantly banished for the moment. +</p> + +<p> +Had Lorraine been in her normal condition, she could hardly have failed to +notice that the “Hal” who came up in haste to ask this urgent +question was not the “Hal” of a few months, a few weeks ago. She +would probably have observed that the vague, indefinable change Alymer had seen +in her had grown more marked and more defined. +</p> + +<p> +She seemed to have sprung suddenly into womanhood. +</p> + +<p> +It was no light-hearted, careless, rather boisterous girl who appeared +unexpectedly at the flat, to give her one or two eager hugs, tell her the +latest news of her doings in gay, gossipy fashion, and eat an unconscionable +amount of chocolates, usually kept for her special delectation. +</p> + +<p> +The old, bright look was there on the surface, the ready, laughing speech, but +there was also, with it, something that approached a dignified phase, and +suggested a new reserve. She was also distinctly better-looking likewise, in +some vague, incomprehensible way. +</p> + +<p> +But Lorraine had not time to take any note of the change, for all her faculties +were bent upon shielding herself. +</p> + +<p> +Of course it was useless to hide that she had been crying, but at least Hal +must not know that the crying had been soul-racking sobs. +</p> + +<p> +With a look of consternation and dismay she, Hal, was across the room in a +bound, kneeling beside the big chair. +</p> + +<p> +“My dear old girl, what in the world is the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine contrived to smile with some appearance of reality, as she dried her +eyes, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite know. It’s idiotic of me, isn’t it? If +you hadn’t come and stopped me, I should never have been able to appear +tonight for swollen eyes.” But Hal was not so easily put off. She +grasped both Lorraine’s hands in hers and said resolutely: +</p> + +<p> +“Why are you crying, Lorry?” +</p> + +<p> +Feeling it hopeless to avoid some sort of a reason, she replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I had a letter this morning that upset me rather. It is silly of me to +take any notice, and I shouldn’t if I were well. I’ve been +wretchedly nervy lately, and it makes me silly about things.” +</p> + +<p> +“What was the letter about?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, only some one who is jealous, I suppose; trying to get a little +satisfaction out of saying a few things that may hurt me. It is so silly of me +to mind.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s mind immediately flew to Mrs. Vivian, and instead of inquiring any +further she just said: +</p> + +<p> +“Poor old Lorry,” and kissed her affectionately. +</p> + +<p> +Then with a little laugh: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you weren’t going to have any lunch at all, but +I’m frightfully hungry. I hope to goodness there is something in the +house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Run and tell Jean to see cook about it, there’s a dear. I must +bathe my eyes and try to look presentable.” +</p> + +<p> +While they lunched Hal chatted of many things, but she noted that Lorraine was +looking thin, and seemed to have something on her mind, while she made no +attempt to eat what was placed on her plate. +</p> + +<p> +When she was pulling her gloves on later she asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you take a week’s holiday and go into the country, +Lorry?… It is no use going on until you are ill, as you did before.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I must ask about it. I feel as if one week would do me a world +of good. How is Sir Edwin? Have you seen him lately?” +</p> + +<p> +“We played golf on Saturday.” +</p> + +<p> +A white look came suddenly into Hal’s face, and she riveted her attention +on an apparently tiresome fastener as she asked, with the greatest show of +unconcern she could muster, the question that brought her there. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you heard a rumour that he is going to marry Miss Bootes?” +naming one of the richest heiresses of the day. +</p> + +<p> +“No; I hadn’t heard it.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine gave a quick glance at her face, but saw only the look of +concentration on the fractious fastener. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” Hal said in level tones, “I suppose she is worth +about half a million, and I don’t think he is rich.” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably he has only been seen speaking to her, or taking her to supper +at a big reception. That would be quite enough to make some people link them +at once, and fix the date of the wedding.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a bun-fight at the Bruces’ tonight,” Hal ran +on, “with Llaney to play the violin, and Lascelles to sing—quite an +elaborate affair: so it is sure to be very boring; but I suppose Alymer will +be there, looking adorably beautiful, and all the women gazing at him. It will +be entertaining to chaff him, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, don’t tell him you found me weeping,” with a little +laugh. “He might not realise it was only nerves.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell him he’s to take you away for a week’s +holiday,” Hal replied lightly. “Goodness knows, you’ve done +enough for him.” +</p> + +<p> +She went back to the office and settled down to her work with resolute +determination, but any one who knew her well would have seen that some cloud +seemed to have descended upon her, and that all the time she stuck to her work +she was wrestling to appear normal, in the face of some enshrouding worry. +</p> + +<p> +Through all the letter she was writing, and over the proofs she read to aid the +chief, there seemed to be one sentence dancing in letters of glee, like a +war-dance executed by little black devils on the foolscap of her mind. It was +last night she had heard it, that ominous piece of news that took her violently +by surprise, in spite of her practical common sense. Some one had said it quite +casually in the motor bus—one man to another, as an item of news of the +day. +</p> + +<p> +“They say Sir Edwin Crathie is to marry Miss Bootes the heiress.” +</p> + +<p> +“What! The Right Honourable Sir Edwin Crathie?” +</p> + +<p> +“So they say. He’s very heavily in debt, I believe—over +some bad speculations—and an heiress is about the only thing to float +him. Besides, the party wants rich men, and it would be a good move on his +part.” +</p> + +<p> +That was all, and then the two silk-hatted, frock-coated men had got out. +Eminently well-to-do men—probably both stockbrokers, but men who looked +as if they would know. +</p> + +<p> +Hal had gone on home in a sudden torment of feeling. Of course he was free to +marry the heiress if be wished, but why, if so, had he dared once again to drop +the mask of companiable friendliness with her and grow lover-like? The change +had been coming slowly of late, wrought with infinite caution and care. He had +not meant to frighten her again, and find himself in disgrace, so he had taken +each step very leisurely, and made sure of his ground before trusting himself +upon it. The next time he kissed her, he had determined she should like it too +well to resent his action. +</p> + +<p> +And the safe moment, as he deemed it, had come the previous Saturday after a +delightful afternoon at golf. They had motored down to the Sundridge Park +Links, and stayed afterwards to dine at the club-house, then back to +Bloomsbury, and into the pretty sitting-room, where Dudley was not likely to +appear until late, because he had gone to a theatre with Doris. +</p> + +<p> +And then for the second time he had kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +But this was quite a different kiss. It was a climax to one of the best days he +had ever had—a day in which, besides playing golf, they had talked of +State secrets and State affairs. He had paid her the compliment of talking to +her as if she were a man, and Hal, being exceptionally well informed on most +questions of the day, was able to hold her own with him, and to make the +conversation of genuine interest. +</p> + +<p> +And his quick, observant brain greatly admired her power of argument, and her +woman’s directness of method, confirming the view that while a man +usually indulges in a good deal of preamble, with many doubts and side-lights, +a woman trusts to her instinct and arrives at the same conclusion in half the +time. Of late, too, he had talked to her of interesting modern problems; and +what had been frivolous in their earlier friendship had solidified into a real +companionship. +</p> + +<p> +And now as he stood on the hearth with his back to the fire, looking with +rather critical eyes round the pretty room that Hal had contrived to rob of +nearly all its lodging-house aspect, she stood quite naturally and +unconcernedly beside him drawing off her gloves. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a good game,” she was saying, “if you had not messed +up that sixth hole. It’s a brute, isn’t it. I was lucky to escape +that marshy bit.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are getting too good for me. Your drives out-classed mine nearly +every time.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t approach. I never, never, shall be able to hit a ball +just far enough. If I loft on to the green at all it is always the far side, +with a roll.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll soon master that. A little more practice, and you’ll +be in form for matches. I think we’ll have to go away somewhere and have +a fortnight’s golfing! Why not to some little French place? You would +finish up a first-class player.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal laughed lightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Just imagine Brother Dudley’s face when I told him I was going to +France for a fortnight with you!” +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t have to tell him anything about me,” watching +her with a sudden keenness in his eyes. “I should have to be personated +by Miss Vivian or some one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I dare say Lorry would come for the matter of that. We might teach +her to play too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I hardly meant she should actually be there,” he went on in +a meaning voice. “She’d be rather in the way, wouldn’t she? I +don’t know that I could do with any one else but you.” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped closer to her, and slipped his arm round her shoulders. “A +third person will always be in the way when I am with you, Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +She changed colour, and breathed fitfully, moving as if to disengage herself +from his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“No, don’t go. This is very harmless, and I’ve been +exceedingly good for a long time, now, haven’t I?” +</p> + +<p> +“All the greater pity to spoil your record,” putting up her hand to +remove his. +</p> + +<p> +But he only clasped her fingers tightly, and drew her closer, till he could +feel her heart palpitating a little wildly; and that gave him courage. +</p> + +<p> +“It has been far harder than you have the remotest idea of. I deserve one +kiss, if only by way of encouragement.” +</p> + +<p> +His face was close to hers now, and with a little murmuring sound of gladness +he kissed her cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“Little woman,” he murmured, “I’ve grown desperately +fond of you. I hardly know how to do without you. Be a sensible little girl, +won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +She disengaged herself resolutely then, but she was not angry, and her eyes +were shining. +</p> + +<p> +“You are transgressing flagrantly—as I should express it in a +newspaper report. Collect your forces, and retire gracefully, O +transgressor.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I really must go now. It’s been such a splendid day, +hasn’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to speak with a shadow of regret; and there was a shadow of regret in +his eyes also as he riveted them on her face. Then he turned suddenly and +picked up his cap. +</p> + +<p> +“Well—the best of friends must part—and the best of days come +to an end. Good-bye, little girl.” +</p> + +<p> +With his cap in his hand, he suddenly put both his arms round her and kissed +her with the old passionate eagerness—then he loosed her and turned to +the door. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m in love with you, Hal—head over ears in love; but +it’s a devilish hard world, and Heaven only knows what’s to come of +it.” +</p> + +<p> +With which enigmatical sentence he let himself out and departed. +</p> + +<p> +When he had gone Hal stood quite still where he had left her, and looked into +vacancy. About her lips there was the ghost of a smile. In her ears was only +the recollection of the words, “I’m head over ears in love with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +So, it was coming at last—the great, glad day of love and fulfilment. If +he had set out to trifle with her at first, at least he was serious enough now. +She, too, had only trifled in the beginning, seizing a little fun and adventure +in her workaday world. There had been no reason to suppose it need hurt any +one. Now, she, too, was serious. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps the things detrimental to him that she had heard previously had some +truth in them then, but he was changed now. Love had changed him. He was like +another man. She had seen and felt it in a thousand ways that could not be +translated into speech or writing. It was just that he was different, and in +every particular it was to his advantage. +</p> + +<p> +She was different too. She did not resent the kiss, because she knew that he +honestly cared for her. And she knew, too, that she honestly cared for him. The +end of the enigmatical sentence rankled a little, but she did not led herself +dwell upon it. +</p> + +<p> +She chose instead to remember how he had kissed her; and that he had confessed +he was head over ears in love with her. Which only showed that Hal—for +all her worldly wisdom and practical common sense—could be as blind and +as romantic as anyone when her heart was touched, and her pulses romping +feverishly at a memory that thrilled all her being. +</p> + +<p> +Three days later she had heard the conversation. +</p> + +<p> +Of course it was absurd—manifestly so—and yet, and yet— +</p> + +<p> +After a miserable twenty-four hours of fighting against her own uneasiness, she +paid the flying visit to Lorraine, to see if she could glean any light on the +gossip from her, only to return to the office baffled and tormented. +</p> + +<p> +It was the enigmatical sentence that pressed forward now, instead of the +thrilling confession that he loved her. Was it possible he was indeed so base +as to love her and tell her in the very same week that he had asked another +woman to be his wife? +</p> + +<p> +And if so, what had prompted him? What was in his mind? Why had he not left +things as they were, and refrained both from the kiss and the confession? +</p> + +<p> +And then above her tortured feelings rose the triumphant thought, goading and +pleasing at the same time: “Whether it is true or not, he loves +<i>me</i>—not her, the heiress, but me—Hal Pritchard—the +peniless City worker.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap31"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<p> +In the evening came the party at Dick Bruce’s home, and it was necessary, +she knew, to thrust all recollection of Sir Edwin aside, in order to give rise +to no questioning and appear as usual. +</p> + +<p> +So she dressed herself with special care, rubbed a pink tinge on to her white +cheeks, bathed and refreshed eyes dulled by worry and shadows, and made her +appearance, looking, if anything, a little more radiant than usual. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! you look stunning, Hal,” was her jovial uncle’s +warm greeting. “Who’d ever have thought, to see the ugly little imp +of a small child you were, that you would grow up into a fashionable, striking +woman? I congratulate you. When’s the happy man coming along?” +</p> + +<p> +“When I’m tired of enjoying of myself,” she laughed, +“and feel equal to coping with anything as trying as a husband. At +present a brother keeps me quite sufficiently occupied,” and she passed +on. +</p> + +<p> +Across the large, well-lit room, towering above every one around him, she saw +the head and shoulders of Alymer Hermon. All about her, as she moved towards +him, she heard the low-voiced query: “Who is he?” +</p> + +<p> +No society beauty at her zenith could have caused greater interest. He was +looking grave, too, and thoughtful, which suited him better than laughter, +giving him something of a look apart, and banishing all suggestion of the +conceit and self-satisfaction that would have spoilt him. Then he caught sight +of Hal, and instantly all his face lit up, and a twinkle shone in his eyes as +he edged towards her. +</p> + +<p> +“How late you are! I thought you were never coming. Did your hair require +an extra half-hour? I suppose you’ve been tearing it out by the roots +over your faithless swain.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you mean, and anyhow I shouldn’t be such a +fool as to tear my own hair out by the roots for any one. If hair is coming out +in that fashion, it shall be his roots.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come and sit down. I’ll soon find you a chair.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the good of that? We can’t converse unless you sit on +the floor. I work too hard to spend my evening shouting banalities at the +ceiling.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let’s hunt for a couch; there are plenty here on ordinary +occasions. Isn’t it a poser where all the furniture goes to at a +‘beano’ like this! There’s nothing in the hall, nor in the +dining-room; and there doesn’t seem to be much here. Let’s make +for the lounge.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t take you away. I shall get my face scratched. You were +made to be looked at, and half these silly people are staring their eyes out in +your direction. I don’t know how you put up with it so serenely. I should +want to bite them all. If I were a man, and had been burdened with an +appearance like yours, I should want to hit Life in the face for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be silly. What does it matter? It pleases them, and it +doesn’t hurt me. I get my own back a little anyway... when I want +to”—with a low, significant laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh of course lots of women are in love with you,”—with a +contemptuous sniff; “but if I were a man I wouldn’t give tuppence +for the woman who made me a present of her affections. You miss all the fun of +the chase, and the victory. It must be deadly dull.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what Lorraine has sometimes said; but what can I do? Shall +I paint my face black?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I’ve seen you look black enough, but it’s rather +becoming than otherwise. Anyhow, it isn’t insipid. But you’ve grown +quite manly lately, I suppose. I hear about you occasionally positively working +hard. Heavens!—what you owe to Lorraine!” +</p> + +<p> +“I do,” fervently. +</p> + +<p> +“Then why in the world don’t you look after her a bit? I turned up +unexpectedly at half-past one today, and found her sobbing her eyes +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“You found Lorraine sobbing her eyes out...” incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“I did. She told me not to tell you, as it was only nerves—but of +course it wasn’t. You know as well as I that Lorraine doesn’t +suffer from weepy nerves. It’s worry again; and she is looking thoroughly +ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why again?...” +</p> + +<p> +He was looking grave enough now, and there was anxiety in his voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, because there’s often something to worry her—either her +mother, or her memories, or the future. I suppose you haven’t bothered to +go and see her lately to cheer her up? Been too busy with your briefs!” +</p> + +<p> +“I was there yesterday, to inquire how she was after a bad sick headache. +The room was all violets and snow-drops”; and his eyes grew soft. +</p> + +<p> +“And did she sight of her robust health knock you backwards?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was irritable from the strain on her own nerves, and it pleased her to hurl +sarcasms at him, feeling somehow angry at his calm, smoothly-flowing path to +success. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought she looked ill, and I advised her to go away for a +week.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was kind of you. And why won’t she take your safe +advice?” +</p> + +<p> +“She won’t go alone, and she said there was no one to go with +her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Too many briefs, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“What have my briefs to do with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing. She’s given hours and hours to you and your future; +but of course you couldn’t risk sparing a week—” +</p> + +<p> +“But!...” he began with raised eyebrows. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t ‘but’ in that inane fashion. If you say it +isn’t proper I shall scream. Lorraine is nearly old enough to be your +mother, and she has far too much sense to be in love with you; and you +wouldn’t be so idiotic as to imagine it any use for you to be in love +with her. Therefore it’s only a companion she wants to keep her from +moping and dwelling on sad thoughts; and you seem to be able to do +that—as well as any of us; so why can’t you get another man, or boy +if you prefer it, to go for a run into the country with you? Flip would take +her by the next train if he were there. He wouldn’t care a farthing for +scandalmongers. But I suppose he can do that sort of thing because he’s a +man. And, anyhow, I don’t suppose she would go with you, even with a +third person. She might think a whole week of you too much of a good +thing.” +</p> + +<p> +His face has grown still more thoughtful, and he paid small heed to her taunts. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine sobbing, Lorraine ailing, Lorraine unhappy, filled his mind. What +could have happened to upset her so? True, she had not been looking well for +some weeks, and had complained of headaches and weariness; but he felt sure +something quie apart had transpired to upset her so thoroughly. +</p> + +<p> +Neither did he think it was Hal’s version of the usual worries. He +greatly feared his own people had made some move of which he was in ignorance. +He contemplated with deep vexation the probability that he himself was +indirectly the cause of her new trouble, and he mentally decided then and there +to go to considerable lengths, if she wished it, on her behalf. +</p> + +<p> +Probably if he travelled down to some seaside place and saw her comfortably +settled, and later on ran down to fetch her, she would be more easily induced +to go. At any rate he would call the very next day and see, if his proposition +simplified matters at all. +</p> + +<p> +Hal watched him a little impatiently, and at length remarked: +</p> + +<p> +“You seem to be thinking rather hard. Are you meditating upon +Lorraine’s trouble, or my suggestion, that it is unlikely she could +endure a whole week of you, unadulterated?” +</p> + +<p> +“Both,” with a humorous glance at her. “I’m thinking it +would be interesting to find out the truth in both cases.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you won’t do that. Lorraine never tells her troubles. Not +even to me. And she’s too tender-hearted to hurt your feelings on the +other question.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not afraid of that.” +</p> + +<p> +His face grew a little brighter, and, as if satisfied with the result of his +cogitations, he changed the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s making you so ratty tonight? Is it the faithless +swain?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what you mean.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you haven’t seen the evening paper.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t. I’m sick to death of papers by six +o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you oughtn’t to have missed it tonight, and then +you’d have had the pleasure of seeing the announcement of the faithless +swain’s engagement to the rich heiress.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal bit her lip suddenly, and felt her blood run cold, but she kept her outward +composure perfectly, and merely commented: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you mean about Sir Edwin Crathie and Miss Bootes!… that’s very +old news.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it was only in the paper tonight anyhow; and only given as a +rumour then. I was going to ask you if it is true. They say he’s in the +dickens of a mess for money. But of course you know all about it.” +</p> + +<p> +He was enjoying himself now, feeling that he was getting a little of his own +back, and it made him unconsciously merciless. +</p> + +<p> +“It must have been rather a trying moment when you had to break to him +that you couldn’t possibly pay any of his debts, and that therefore you +must part?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know anything about his debts. They don’t interest +me. I can beat him at golf, playing level, and that’s far more to the +point.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you are going to play golf with him, while Miss Bootes bears his +proud name in return for paying his debts! Sure, it sounds a nice handy +arrangement for him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Hal got up. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t want to <i>talk</i> to you, because you are talking such +drivel; and I don’t want to <i>look</i> at you, because your pink and +white and blue and gold irritate me beyond words, so you’d better go and +stand in the middle of the room for the benefit of those who delight to gaze; +and I’ll go in search of a refreshingly ugly person who can talk +sense!” +</p> + +<p> +Hermon gave a low chuckle of enjoyment, and continued to chuckle to himself +until she was lost to sight and his hostess was introducing some charming +débutante to him. The débutante was pink and white and blue and gold likewise, +and gazed up at him adorably under long curling lashes; but he might have +expressed a fellow-feeling with Hal, for he found himself merely bored, and +longed to go in search, not of a refreshingly ugly person, but of the +refreshingly irritable, snappy, unappreciative one who had just left him. +</p> + +<p> +When at last he was free, however, he found Hal had complained of a headache +and gone home early, unattended. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap32"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<p> +On her way home Hal stopped the taxi and bought an evening paper. When she got +it, however, she found Dudley there, so she merely held it under her cloak. +</p> + +<p> +“You are back early,” he said, in a surprised voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. It was very formal and very dull, and I was tired.” +</p> + +<p> +He glanced up with questioning eyes. It was something new for Hal not to stay +untill the last moment at a festivity. He thought she looked a little paler +than usual, and there were shadows about her eyes, but she interrupted any +comment he might make by an inquiry after Doris. +</p> + +<p> +“She is very well.” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped short rather suddenly, and seemed thoughtful. He had been urging +Doris to fix the date of their wedding, and let him see about taking a house or +a flat, but she had seemed to avoid the subject lately, and he was a little +troubled. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose poor Basil is much the same?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He and Ethel were both asking what had become of you. They said you +hadn’t been up for a long time.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t. I’ll go tomorrow. Good-night,” and she +kissed him, and went upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +In her own room she sat on the bed, and read the evening paper. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, it was there sure enough, but it was only given as a rumour. “We +understand there is a rumour…” How well she knew the phrase, with its +dangerous suggestiveness, and safe retreat. She wondered who had started the +rumour, and how the paper had got it. +</p> + +<p> +But, again, insistently she asserted it could not be true. If it had not been +for last Saturday she might have believed it. But after that… no, he could not +be so base. She put the thought away from her, and tried to sleep, but her eyes +would look out into the blackness, and her brain ask questions. +</p> + +<p> +“What if it were true?” She clenched her hands and fought the +question. It could not be true; why worry? Yet he had never made the slightest +suggestion of marrying her. She remembered that, but scorned it. +</p> + +<p> +Why should he? There had been nothing lover-like between them until the +previous Saturday; and of course had there been any one else, it would have +been so easy to go on the same and make no change that particular afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +Finding what comfort she could out of these thoughts, she fell at last into a +troubled sleep. +</p> + +<p> +The following afternoon, in fulfilment of her promise, she went up to Holloway +from the office. Doris was out, and Ethel not home yet, but the door was opened +to her by a gaunt stranger, who said: +</p> + +<p> +“Come in. This is one of my days. I’m in charge this +afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked into the angular face, which appeared to her as if it had been +roughly hewn with a chisel, by some one who was a mere amateur, and she could +not repress a little smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think I’ve met you before. Are you—are +you—a friend of Mr. Hayward’s?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he’s a friend of mine, if that will do as well. I’m +generally know here as G. The letter isn’t stamped on my face, but +it’s on the door of my flat, and that’s much the same.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood aside for Hal to pass down the passage, adding grimly as Hal +loitered, with rather an amused, engaging expression: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t stand for much more than a door, with a G on it, as I +often tell Mr. Hayward, but I suppose it’s all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“A little more occasionally,” suggested Hal. “A door +wouldn’t be much use to Mr. Hayward, anyhow.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what he says. Won’t you go down to his room?” +</p> + +<p> +“What are you going to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Get the tea. It’s one of the few things I can do passably +well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let me come and help. It won’t take long. I’m interested in +that door. You see, I’m not even G; and I don’t possess a front +door.” +</p> + +<p> +The music-teacher looked searchingly into her face, and was evidently pleased +with what she saw, for she adopted a friendly note, and seemed ready to chat. +Hal followed her into the little kitchen, and commenced to take off her hat. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m an old friend,” she volunteered, “and I often +leave my hat in here. Are both Mr. Hayward’s sisters out?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Hayward will be late tonight, and her sister is uncertain. It +depends somewhat upon which young man she is out with,” in acid tones. +</p> + +<p> +Hal glanced up in astonishment, but her companion was busy with the cups and +saucers, and did not notice the look. +</p> + +<p> +“All I can say is, I’m sorry for that nice gentleman who is fool +enough to think of marrying her. Lord! he’d be safer with some one with a +face like a door-knocker, such as mine. But there, they’re all the same; +and the nicest of them are generally the biggest fools.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal grasped the situation at once, and instead of enlightening her concerning +her own identity, said casually: +</p> + +<p> +“There’s another young man as well, is there?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is so. A pawnbroker I should take him to be, who wears the +jewellery left in his care on his person for safety. As a matter of fact, I +believe he is a South African millionaire. He brought her home one day, and +Blakde—that’s the housekeeper’s husband down +below—recognised him. He was out in South Africa in the war, and he saw +him then.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal drummed on the table with her fingers to assume nonchalance. +</p> + +<p> +“Does Miss Hayward know?” +</p> + +<p> +“Know? Of course she doesn’t. How should she know, particularly if +that artful monkey did not want her to? I don’t know where the poor sick +man would be now but for me. She’s always off somewhere—that +minx—and I rush back from my music pupils, because I can’t rest for +the thought of him here all alone. I’ve given one up, who wanted a lesson +at half-past four every day. That’s the time he needs his tea.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you do all this for him?” Hal found herself asking, a +little unaccountably. “He is nothing to you, is he—no relation, I +mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing to me!… Oh, isn’t he though! I’d like to know what +is anything, if he’s nothing?” +</p> + +<p> +She rattled the cups and saucers a little restlessly, and Hal, with growing +interest, waited for her to go on. +</p> + +<p> +“Before I knew him, I was nothing in the world but a door with a letter +on it, as I’ve just told you. That’s all I stood for, a mere letter +of the alphabet who paid a monthly rent. I told him so, when I first came +across, and he said, ‘Well, I’m very glad they didn’t leave G +out of the alphabet.’ That’s all.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’m his slave now. Nobody cared whether there was a G or not +before. It isn’t pleasant to feel you’re a mere cypher, with no +particular meaning to any one; just shot in haphazard to fill up a +blank—a mere creature, useful to teach exercises and scales to odious +children one only longs to slap. +</p> + +<p> +“Fancy being expected to keep yourself alive in a dingy little flat, for +ever alone, just to do that!” The cups rattled more restively still. +“I say, the universe is the grimmest jester there ever was. Me to teach +music to keep life in a body that doesn’t want it! If I’d been +employed laying out corpses in their grave-clothes there’d have been some +sense in it. I’m not much more that a figurehead of an old hulk myself. +But music!… music!… Oh Lord, and I haven’t one real note of it in my +whole composition.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal seated herself on the table. With her quick intuition she perceived at once +entertainment of an original kind was before her, and she promptly laid herself +out to obtain all she could. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you teach music? I don’t think you do quite suggest a +musician?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I don’t.” +</p> + +<p> +The gaunt spinster was cutting some bread-and-butter now with a savage air. +</p> + +<p> +“Do I suggest anything, except perhaps a butcher or an undertaker? Yet I +can only keep myself alive with music. That’s the jest of the Arch +Humorist. My father was a clergyman. He droned out services for fifty years in +a hamlet, with a little square church like a wooden money-box. I was taught +music so that I could—well—make the tin-pot organ groan, I used to +call it. I had twenty-five years of that, with never a break. I got so that, to +keep myself from turning into a stone gargoyle on the organ seat, I must have +my little jest too. +</p> + +<p> +“One way I had it was by making the organ groan dismallest at weddings +and christenings, and squeak hilariously at funerals. Father never noticed, +he’d already turned gargoyle, you see, and as for the village people! +well, it suited them, because they always wept at weddings, and overate +themselves at funerals.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then?…” Hal was so thoroughly enjoying herself now, she had +almost forgotten the invalid. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then the gargoyle died, or ran down, or something. I should think +he got tired of sing-song the tender mercies of God to the devout people, and +His judgments on the wicked. It always seemed to me the good folks got the +nastiest knocks; and the wicked, well, they fairly left the green bay tree +behind. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyhow, I’d been devout enough, as far as sinning goes, for forty +years. I wasn’t even blessed with the chance to be anything else. Then a +new parson came, an underdone young man with new fal-da-dal ideas. I wonder how +soon <i>he’d</i> become a gargoyle? I defy him to stand out long against +the cast-iron nonentity of that village. But he didn’t take kindly either +to me or my music. Hadn’t any sense of humour at all. I don’t know +what I ever knew a clergyman who had. Perhaps a man couldn’t very well go +on being a clergyman if he possessed such a trait. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyhow, this particular one did not think I put enough expression into +the tunes. He said they hardly sounded like sacred tunes at all; which +wasn’t surprising, when you come to think that sometimes a low note and +sometimes a high note on that little tin-pot organ would take it into its head +to stick, and would either boom or squeak all through the thing I was +playing.” Hal burst out laughing, quite unable to contain herself any +longer, but the spinster went on calmly: “The tune might just as well +have been ‘Down by the Old Bull and Bush’ then, but it wasn’t +my fault, because when your hands and arms and feet and eyes and ears are all +struggling to keep time with a village choir that varies its pace every few +bars, you’ve got nothing left to release a stuck note with.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you didn’t tell the under-done young parson about +‘The Old Bull and Bush’?” said Hal, still rocking with +enjoyment and bent chiefly upon leading her on. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d never heard of it then, or I might have. Even that won’t +reach the village I’m thinking of for a hundred years; and then +they’ll play it until the very birds lose heart, and think they are +uncannily up to date. So they are if you count it when things come round the +second time. I told him if the organ seemed to be playing ‘Yankee +Doodle,’ I supposed it was because it felt like it; as, for twenty-five +years, it had more or less pleased itself at my expense. +</p> + +<p> +“But he’ll be a gargoyle soon, and then he won’t notice, and +it will boom and squaek to its heart’s content. Of course I ought to have +stayed on because I matched it all, and I didn’t mind the booming and +squeaking as long as the choir didn’t get convulsed, and stop +altogether—because that was liable to catch father’s attention. A +gargoyle is out of place in London. It’s as mad for me to be here as that +I’m here to teach music. After I became fossilised I ought to have stayed +on till I died, and then that self-willed organ could have fairly squeaked +itself out over my corpse. Come along and have some tea now. Poor Mr. Hayward +will be getting faint.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’re too perfectly delicious for anything!” Hal cried, +springing off the table. “Why haven’t I known you for years? Why +haven’t I known you all my life? You must meet my cousin Dick Bruce. You +absolutely <i>must</i>, with the least possible delay. He’ll simply dote +on you. Come along to Basil, and tell me heaps and heaps more”; and she +caught her by the arm in the friendliest fashion, and half-pulled her along to +the little sitting-room. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap33"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<p> +“What a gossip you two have been having!” Basil said, and, seeing +the laughter in Hal’s eyes, he added, “has G been telling you some +of her amazing theories, or tearing the existing order of the universe to +shreds?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t know, but she’s simply immense. Have you heard +about the tin-pot organ that will play its own way, and the choir that gets +convulsed, and the underdone young parson? She’s simply got to know Dick. +He wouldn’t miss it for the world.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I’ve heard most of it. She plays an organ of laughter for me +nowadays, that makes me bless the day she was born.” +</p> + +<p> +The gaunt spinster positively blushed. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s just your way,” she snapped, bashfully trying to +hide her pleasure. “If I hadn’t been G, a pretty, charming young +woman with real music in her might have been, and you’d have liked that +much better.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I shouldn’t. She’d have played ‘Home, Sweet +Home,’ with variations, and ‘The Maiden’s +Prayer’—I know her at a glance. If you do only play scales and +exercises I’m sure you manage to put a lot of character into them.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s only thumping; and who wants thumping?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do, when it’s the universe. I’m just as much askew with it +as you are, only I haven’t got the wit to thump it so satisfactorily. You +are going it for the two of us now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, you’re not a gargoyle…” with a queer twist of her +face that delighted Hal. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall positively take you to Dick myself,” she said, “or +bring him here to you. He’ll talk to you about a mother’s patience, +and babies; and you’ll talk to him about gargoyles and organs, and Heaven +only knows where you’ll both get to; but I wouldn’t miss it for +anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know who Dick may be, but if he talks to me about mothers +and babies”—grimly—“I shall groan like that organ +did at christenings. They may be useful in the general scheme, but beyond that +I don’t know how any one can put up with them at all; with their +potsy-wotsy, and pucksie-ducksie, and general stickiness. It’s quite +enough for me that I have to knit stupid little socks for their silly little +feet, for bread-and-butter. The most I can say for it is, that it’s a +more satisfactory plan than casting your bread on the waters, on the off-chance +some kindly Elijah will butter it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where are the socks, G?” Basil asked, looking round. “I +should like Hal to enjoy the edifying spectacle of your knitting babies’ +socks.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean that,” interrupted Hal comically. “I +can’t believe it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the horrible truth,” asserted the spinster, calmly +going on with her tea—“most of them go to little black whelps in +the Antipodes. After all, it isn’t any more incongruous than the +music—is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“But you don’t do it for the under-done young parson, +surely?” +</p> + +<p> +“Goodness gracious, no. What an idea! He wiped his hands of me long ago. +The wildest stretch of imagination, you see, could not picture me ever looking +like an angel; so he left me to my fate!” And again the humorous twisted +smile delighted her small audience. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Splodgkins lately?” Basil asked. “You say all +babies are sticky and objectionable; but you must admit that sticky imp down +below is better than two-thirds of the other babies in the world shining with +soap polish.” +</p> + +<p> +“So he is”; and the grim face relaxed still further. “He was +sitting in my way on the stairs this morning, and as I could not get by, I +said, ‘Make room, please, Master Splodgkins; you don’t own the +universe.’ ‘Eth oi doth,’ he lisped. ‘Noime ain’t +thplodums. Damn th’ ooniverth.’” +</p> + +<p> +It was good to hear Basil’s whole-hearted laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“We ought to have had him to tea,” he said regretfully. “He +would have delighted Hal. He’s two-and-a-half years +old”—turning to her—“this remarkable person-age; and, +like most gutter snipes, has developed as an ordinary child of four. He and G +have debates occasionally. He wishes to be called D, because that is the letter +on his front door, and ‘Splodgkins’ hurts his dignity but +he’s so funny when he is indignant we can’t resist teasing +him.” +</p> + +<p> +A little wistful smile crept into the invalid’s eyes. “We have lots +of fun in this dingy old barrack between us,” he told Hal. “We are +rarely silly enough to be dull, with so many queer, interesting folks under the +same roof.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal felt something like a sudden lump in her throat, but she smiled brightly as +she looked from one to the other, feeling somehow the better for knowing such +waifs of life and circumstance, who could yet baffle Fate’s pitilessness +with genuine laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“Dick is writing a most weird and incomprehensible book on vegetables and +babies. I’m quite certain you could give him lots of ideas,” she +remarked to G. +</p> + +<p> +“He’d better put Splodgkins in if he wants to make it sell,” +said she. “Only they mightn’t allow it at the libraries. +Splodgkins’s vocabulary is fortunately sometimes indistinguishable for +his lisp.” +</p> + +<p> +“Splodgkins couldn’t be translated,” put in Basil. “He +sometimes comes to tea with me and G; but he is almost too exhausting. I think +he knows every bad word in the English language; but one has to forgive him +because he always saves half his cake for his baby sister, and hurls violent +abuse at any one who dares to disparage her. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going?...” as G got up. “I’m sure Miss +Pritchard doesn’t want you to leave us.” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Pritchard!...” In a horrified voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind,” said Hal quickly. “It didn’t +matter.” Then to Basil, in explanation: “G said something about +Doris’s fiancé, not knowing I was his sister, but I quite forget what it +was. Good-bye, G,” holding out a frank hand. “I think you’re +a delightful person, and I’m just as glad as Basil that you weren’t +left out of the alphabet.” +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later Doris came in, looking flushed and stealthy, and the first +thing Hal noticed was a loverly little diamond brooch she had not seen before. +</p> + +<p> +“What a darling brooch,” she exclaimed, after their greeting. +“Did Dudley give you that? He might have shown it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“No...” stammered Doris, turning red. “I’ve had it a +long time. It’s not real.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s a wonderful imitation, then” said Hall a little +drily—and remembered the man like a pawnbroker’s shop. +</p> + +<p> +Then Ethel joined them, and Hal’s quick eyes saw the still increasing +anxiety, just as surely as she saw the increased furtiveness in Doris’s +side-long glances. And because of all that she felt for Ethel, she trust her +own care into the background resolutely, and made the evening as gay as she +could while she was there. +</p> + +<p> +Only afterwards she went home through the lamp-lit darkness, feeling as if some +vague shadow had descended silently upon her little world. +</p> + +<p> +What was this insistent, nameless fear at her own heart? Why was Lorraine +weeping when she found her yesterday? Why was trouble steadily gathering on +Ethel’s face? What was this gossip about Doris?— +</p> + +<p> +The gloom of a foggy night added to her depression. Why, in the tube railway, +did all these people about her look so white and tired and lifeless? Did they +just go on in their niches, in the same way that the grotesque music-teacher +had gone on in hers for all those monotonous years; only to become like an +uncared-for, unwanted letter of the alphabet pushed in to fill up a blank in a +big city at last? +</p> + +<p> +Were they all gargoyles-fixed, rigid, joyless, carved things, fastened in their +respective niches, not for ornament, or for use specially, but just because the +general machine seemed to require them? +</p> + +<p> +And if so—why?... why?... why?— +</p> + +<p> +It was so easy to be joyous if one was made for it. Such a little would make +every one gay, if they were fashioned accordingly. What could be the good of +disfiguring a beautiful world with all these vacant, expressionless, hopeless +masks? +</p> + +<p> +Hal did not read poetry. She was perfectly frank about being utterly bored with +it. When she had anything to say, she liked to say it straight out, she +explained, without twisting it about to make it rhyme with something just +shoved in to fill up the line; and she preferred other people to do the same. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, perhaps, at that particular moment, had she seen the lines: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire<br /> +To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,<br /> +Would not we shatter it to bits—and then<br /> +Remould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire?” +</p> + +<p> +In her present mood she might have recognised also the stateliness and the +beauty of a thought transcribed into verse. +</p> + +<p> +Or possibly she would have obstinately asserted there was no occasion to +introduce the word Love at all—and it was no one’s Heart’s +Desire she wanted, but just a common-sense, reasonable amount of pleasure for +all, and a spring-cleaning of all the gloomy, wooden faces. +</p> + +<p> +In the sitting-room at Bloomsbury she threw her hat down on the sofa, and ran +her fingers through her hair with an almost petulant air. +</p> + +<p> +“I just feel tonight as if it was a rotten old world after all,” +she said. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley, sitting poring over some plans with a reading-lamp, looked up in mild +surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“And what has made you feel all that?—not Basil, I’m +sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there’s no occasion to be so very sure. I think it’s +decidedly rotten where Basil is concerned.” +</p> + +<p> +She came and half-sat on one of the arms of his chair, and rested her hand on +his coat-collar. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder what G would think of a sane man spending his evening ruling +pointless-looking lines on a big sheet of paper?” +</p> + +<p> +“And who may ‘G’ be?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know—except that she’s the quaintest person +I’ve ever struck yet—and I’ve seen some funny ones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I know who you mean. Yes; she is an oddity. Well, how was every one. +How was Doris?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know. She was not there when I arrived, and she did not come in +until a few minutes before Ethel.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder where she was?” thoughtfully. “I asked her to come +for tea and a walk in the Park today, and she said she could not leave +Basil.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked keenly into his face, and immediately he smiled and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose the tenant opposite was free unexpectedly, and Doris was able +to get out after all. Poor little girl. I’m glad. But I wonder she +didn’t telephone me.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal turned away, feeling a little sick at heart. +</p> + +<p> +Were they all then in the maelstrom of this gloomy sense of an engulfing cloud? +What could be the meaning of Doris’s behaviour? Did Dudley suspect +anything? Certainly he had been a good deal preoccupied of late, and spoken +very little of the future. +</p> + +<p> +She looked out of her window across the blue of London lights, and her thoughts +roved a little pitifully across the wide reaches of her own small world. From +Sir Edwin, with his high post in the nation’s councils, and Lorraine with +her brilliant atmosphere of success and triumph, to the dingy block of flats in +Holloway, where, in spite of almost tragic circumstances, to quote Basil, they +had “lots of fun” among themselves. +</p> + +<p> +She believed he meant it, too. It was no empty phrase. Rather something in +touch with Life’s great scheme of compensations, which she manipulates in +her own great way, beyond the comprehension of puny humans. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly neither Sir Edwin nor Lorraine could boast of “lots of +fun.” Rather, instead, much care and worry and brain-weary grappling with +problems of modern succesful conditions. +</p> + +<p> +She wondered, with a still further sinking at heart, if perhaps the time had +come when she would have to grapple too. Was it very likely, after their +delightful friendship, and after that confession of his the previous Saturday, +Sir Edwin was prepared tamely to give her up? In her heart, she knew him +better. +</p> + +<p> +And yet, if the rumour was not false, what else could result? Vaguely she felt +it might be one of those problems of modern society, coming across the evenly +flowing river of her life, to demand solution. Not the solution of the +crowd—to follow a beaten track is rarely difficult—but her own +individual solution, which might mean much warfare of spirit and weary +heartache. The foregoing of an alluring pleasure she deeply longed to +take—not for any reward nor any gain, but solely for the sake of the +mysterious power abroad in the world which is called Good; and which demands of +the Present Hour that it is ready to crucify itself and its deep desires for +the sake of the Future. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap34"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<p> +As the days of that new spring-time crept on, it appeared that the shadow +descending upon Hal’s little world had come to stay. +</p> + +<p> +Things happened with surprising quickness, and each happening was of that +particular order which presents itself enshrouded in gloom, and, with a +pitilessness which is almost wanton, refuses to allow one gleam of the +sunshine, carefully wrapped up in its gloomy folds, to send a single glad ray +of hope to those wrestling in its sinister grip. +</p> + +<p> +One knows the sunshine may possibly be hidden there somewhere—sunshine +always is hidden in each event somewhere—but what is the use of expecting +it weeks or months or years hence, when it seems that one single ray now would +be of more help than a whole sun in some vague, distant future? +</p> + +<p> +May it not be that in the development needed to fit the individual for the full +and glad enjoyment of the sunshine to come, a ray of light would blur the film, +and spoil the picture instead of producing one that is strong, clear and +beautiful? +</p> + +<p> +So, a dauntless belief in the sunshine to come, without a ray to promise it, +may make for greater perfectness through steadfast courage than had one beam +crept through to lessen the need for effort and for strong enduring. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was strange that the grim hand of destiny should strike at so many in +that little world at the same time, and that its blows should be of that +intimate nature which allows of no speech, even to one’s dearest friend. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine knew that the rumour of Sir Edwin Crathie’s engagement was an +admitted fact; but she did not know how hard it hit Hal. She could only have +learnt by accident, and, because of events in her own life, she was out of the +line of such a discovery. +</p> + +<p> +Hal knew that Lorraine, after a nervous breakdown, had gone somewhere into the +country for a week or so, and that Alymer Hermon had run down later to see how +she was getting on, and if he could do anything for her, but of the almost +tragic circumstances that led up to his action she knew nothing, and imagined +the merest generous attention. +</p> + +<p> +She saw also the preoccupied, aged look growing on Dudley’s face, and +knew that the shadow was over him too. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel saw the change creeping over Basil as no one else saw it, and knew that +not even the far future could shed a single gleam for her upon the darkness +coming. +</p> + +<p> +Yet—for life is oversad to dwell upon rayless darkness even in +books—bright, enduring, beautiful sunshine was wrapped up in those black +clouds to flood the little world with joy at the appointed hour. +</p> + +<p> +It was Lorraine’s life that events moved first. After Hal left her, she +spent a wretched, restless, brain-racking afternoon, and was only just able to +struggle through her part at night. +</p> + +<p> +And afterwards she became suddenly sickened with the need to struggle. She was +not extravagant by nature, and had saved enough money from her enormous +salaries to live very comfortably if she chose. +</p> + +<p> +A nausea of the theatrical world and its incessant demands began to obsess her. +She felt that from the first day she stood in a manager’s office, seeking +the chance to start, it had given her everything except happiness. +</p> + +<p> +Money, success, position, jewels, fine clothes, admirers, friends, adventures, +gaieties—all these had come, if by slow degrees, but not one single gift +had contained the kernel of happiness. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it was her own fault. Perhaps the trouble lay in the wrong start she +had made and never been able to retrieve. But at least there was time to try +another plan yet. +</p> + +<p> +Finally, feeling the nerve strain of recent events was seriously affecting her +health, she decided to arrange a week’s holiday to think the matter out. +</p> + +<p> +But then what of Alymer? +</p> + +<p> +Nothing had changed her mood since his uncle paid his ill-chosen visit. She did +not actually intend to try to influence Alymer against his people, but she did +intend that he should not change to her, nor pass out of her life, if she could +help it. +</p> + +<p> +Because she, and she alone, had started him off on his promising career, she +meant to be there to watch it for some time to come. Her influence might not +any longer be actually needed. The devine fire to achieve had already lit into +a steady flame in his soul, and her presence would make very little difference +in future. He had tasted the sweets of success, and ambition would not let him +reject all that the future might hold. +</p> + +<p> +But she must be there to see. In her lonely life he meant everything now. There +was no need for him to think of marriage for years yet; and in the meantime she +felt her claim upon him was as strong as any mother’s fears. +</p> + +<p> +So she waited for his next visit, wondering much what would transpire if he had +heard of his uncle’s call. +</p> + +<p> +As it happened, he had. In the interview he had sought with his aunt, to +request her not to interfere in his affairs, the indignant lady hurled at him +the story of the visit; or such garbled account of it as she had received from +the participator himself. +</p> + +<p> +That was quite enough for Alymer—that and Hal’s account of Lorraine +in tears. He felt that his benefactress, his great friend, had been abominably +insulted, and he hastened in all the warmth of his ardour to her side. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine was waiting for him in her low, favourite chair, and when he first saw +her he could not suppress an exclamation to see how frail she seemed suddenly +to have grown. +</p> + +<p> +Her skin of ivory whiteness, enhanced by the tinge of colour in her cheeks, and +there were shadows round her eyes placed there by no cosmetic art. +</p> + +<p> +All that was most chivalrous, most protective, most affectionate in his nature +rose uppermost, and shone in his face as he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine, it is too feeble just to say I am sorry. I heve been cursing +the blunder with all my heart ever since I knew.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was dear of you,” she said; “but of course I knew that +you would.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hoped so. I told myself over and over, you must know it had all +happened without my knowledge.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine had no mind to make light of the matter. She felt she would hold him +better by simply leaving it alone, and letting his own feelings work on her +side. +</p> + +<p> +She knew of course that his uncle had probably tried to injure her case; but +then, Alymer was a man of the world, and she trusted him, knowing what he must +about his uncle, to judge her kindly. +</p> + +<p> +But all this seemed to fade into nothingness when she saw the distress and the +affection in his eyes—the anger that any one had dared to hurt her, and +the eager wish to make amends. It made all her smouldering love leap up into +flame, and the strength of the suddenly roused passion almost frightened her. +She felt there was desperation in it, the desperation of the drowning man who +catches at a straw, of the condemned man who seizes a last joy. +</p> + +<p> +Quite unexpectedly a reckless, surging desire began to take possession of her +soul. She had lost so much already; been hit so many times; missed so many +things. +</p> + +<p> +A picture came back to her, with a new allurement. The picture of herself with +a little one of her own, floating down the peacefully flowing river to some +quiet haven, far removed from the glare of the footlights. Should she make a +bold bid to win that much from the years that were left? +</p> + +<p> +She sat quiet, looking into the heart of the fire while the thoughts coursed +through her brain, and her long lashes hid from the man above her the glowing +dreamlights in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Then he too pulled up a low chair and sat down, so that his head was more +nearly on a level with hers, and still his eyes looked at her with that +regretful, protecting expression. +</p> + +<p> +“You must go away, Lorry,” he said, using Hal’s pet name; +“you are beginning to look thoroughly ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t feel well, but I haven’t the heart to go alone. I +should only get melancholia.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hal seemed to think I ought to offer you a little companionship.” +He said it with a slightly bashful air. +</p> + +<p> +“Hal?…” in a sharp, questioning voice. “What has Hal been +saying to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much. She was in great form at the Bruces’ last night. She +rubbed it into me finely on various subjects, and finally went off with her +head in the air to find some one refreshingly ugly who could talk sense.” +</p> + +<p> +They both laughed, but Lorraine’s eyes were thoughtful. +</p> + +<p> +“And what did she say about your companionship?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that it was only some one to talk to and be company you wanted if +you went away, and that I seemed to fill the post better than any one just +now.” He paused, then added: “Do I?” +</p> + +<p> +She felt him looking hard into her face, and kept her eyes lowered. She did not +want him to know that the thought of his companionship in the country was like +the straw to the drowning man—the last joy to the condemned one. +</p> + +<p> +“You always make me forget the years, and feel young,” she said +slowly and thoughtfully, “and I dare say that is a very good tonic in +itself.” +</p> + +<p> +“You oughtn’t to need help from any one for that”; and she +knew there was genuine admiration in his voice. “You never look anything +but young. I suppose it is temperament.” +</p> + +<p> +“Temperatment doesn’t erase lines,” with a little sad smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not, but it makes them, in some way, suit you; and they add to +the character in a face.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is sweet of you to say so, Alymer, but it sounds a fairy tale. I +don’t so very much mind growing old, if only it were not so… +empty-handed.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely you have so much!” +</p> + +<p> +“Not very much that counts. Anyhow, I hope some day you will have a great +deal more.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are depressed. You must really get away somewhere at once.” +</p> + +<p> +He was grandfatherly now, the mood she always loved and laughed at, and her +pulses quickened to it. He placed one of his large, strong-looking hand over +hers—it covered them both out of sight—and he leaned a little +nearer as he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I can see I shall have to take the ordering of it all. You have done +worlds for me. Now I shall have to take you in hand.” +</p> + +<p> +A harsh expression crossed her face for a moment, thinking of what his mother +had written her. +</p> + +<p> +“And go straight to perdition!” she said bitterly. +</p> + +<p> +He winced a little. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to make excuses for my own +mother,” he remarked, with the quiet dignity that was already winning +his name in the Law Courts, side by side with his gift for light satire. +“You cannot but know in your heart just how far removed her outlook on +the world is from ours.” +</p> + +<p> +She wanted to ask him if any outlook gave one woman the right to insult another +at her pleasure, but she remembered Mrs. Hermon probably did not realise that +she would have the fineness to see the insult, and was not even aware that she +had been insulting. +</p> + +<p> +“I should like you to know my father,” he went on. “He is a +very understanding man.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely he…” +</p> + +<p> +“No; he knew nothing about it. When my mother spoke to him he asked her +not to interfere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +For a few swift moments the generous treatment called to her own generosity, +and for the sake of the understanding father she was almost ready to let go the +straw. Only then again came the recollection of the uncle, and his impudent +offer to substitute himself, and make amends at the same time; and again the +smouldering fires leaped up, fed by the strong, protecting touch of the hand +upon hers. +</p> + +<p> +“I think Hal was right,” Alymer was saying. “If my +companionship, just to run down and see how you are, wherever you may be, will +help to cheer you up and amuse you, there is no reason why I shouldn’t +manage it.” +</p> + +<p> +She knew he was making a concession of which he was half-afraid, because of +what he owed her, and while one half of her longed to be self-sacrificing and +release him, the other half fiercely demanded the straw that yet might save. +And still she said nothing, gazing, gazing, into the flames. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know,” with a tired smile. “Of course I want you, +but if—” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the ‘if’,” cheerfully. “If I promise +to run down and see you, will you go away at once, and try to get well again +quickly?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would make a lot of difference.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then that settles it. Can you start tomorrow?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I could.” +</p> + +<p> +Her pulses were leaping fitfully now—leaping and bounding with a swift +delight. Perhaps he felt it, for he withdrew his hand, and gave himself a +little shake, as if warding off something dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +“Where will you go?” in a matter-of-fact voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know, but I like the sea. Any little place that is warm in the +spring. I might as well motor down, so it doesn’t matter about trains, +and the motor can come back for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I bring any one else?” his eyes searched her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Just as you like.” She leant forward and casually stirred the +fire. “Anyhow, there is sure to be plenty of room at this time of +year.” +</p> + +<p> +“Plenty of room, but not plenty of available companion chaperones,” +with a little laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Then we should have to make Sydney serve,” naming her chauffeur. +She got up from her seat. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I must think about dinner,” glancing at the clock. +“Are you joining me this evening?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t; I have to go to Morrison’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“How gay you are!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is diplomatic. Morrison could get me a brief tomorrow if he +liked.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is a very pretty daughter, just out; isn’t there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And is she so strikingly lovely?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose she is; but she is so full of airs and graces she irritates +one almost past endurance.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid you are a severe critic. The way is made too smooth for +you.” +</p> + +<p> +She had moved near to him again, and stood beside him with one hand resting +lightly on the mantelpiece, and one foot on the fender. He was standing as +usual with his back to the fire. He looked down into her upturned face, +fascinating now from a touch of roguishness. +</p> + +<p> +“The splendid knight is hard to please; mere beauty is too +commonplace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t it sure to be?” a little smile played round his lips +as he made his gallant retort. “How can mere beauty ever appeal to me, +who have been accustomed to all you have besides?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, flatterer!…” she said softly, and smiled into the fire. +</p> + +<p> +There was a tense moment in which he longed to bend down and kiss her as he had +done when the room was full of violets, but instead he pulled himself up +sharply and moved away. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I must be off. Perhaps tonight I shall have the luck to be able +to look at her from a distance, and not strike the jarring note. I’ll try +to come in tomorrow to see what you have decided, and then I’ll run down +on Friday afternoon for a long weekend, to see that you are taking decent care +of yourself.” As an afterthought he added: “I suppose Hal +couldn’t get off?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll ask her if you like. She would love it, if she could.” +</p> + +<p> +“And keep us amused too. I should get my head bitten off, but you could +put it on again for me. Good-bye. Anyhow, it is a promise that you will +go”; and with rather a hurried farewell, he was gone. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine remained some moments gazing into the fire, and there was a softness +in her eyes. She knew perfectly well that he had hurried at the last moment +because when they stood together on the hearth he had wanted to kiss her. +</p> + +<p> +And she could not help comparing his strength in refraining with what would +have been the action of most of the men she had known, who would have professed +more, and meant less. She leaned her head down on her hand, and wondered a +little pitifully: +</p> + +<p> +“Why had the best she had ever known come to her too late?” +</p> + +<p> +And then followed the dangerous thought: “Is it indeed too late?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap35"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<p> +Lorraine was not able to see Hal, but she talked to her on the telephone, and +told her she was going into the country at once, and Alymer was coming down for +the weekend. “We wondered if you could get off too. Do try,” she +said. +</p> + +<p> +Hal answered at once that she could not manage it this week, but possibly the +next, if Lorraine were still away. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve only arranged for a week’s holiday,” Lorr aine +replied. “What a nuisance you should be unable to come this week.” +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact, Hal was only going out for the day with her cousin on +Sunday, but an urgent little note from Sir Edwin had begged her to keep +Saturday free for him; and because the suspense was becoming unendurable, she +granted his request, determined to know the truth. +</p> + +<p> +So it happened that Lorraine motored down alone to a quaint little +fishing-village on the south coast, where there was a charming, old-fashioned, +creeper-decked hotel, too far from the railway for the ordinary weekend +tourists, and patronised mainly by motorists in the summer. +</p> + +<p> +And on Friday the motor went back to town to fetch Alymer, bringing him down +about four o’clock, unaccompanied. +</p> + +<p> +“So Sydney will have to be chaperone after all,” Lorraine said +lightly. “Now, what should you like to do tomorrow?” +</p> + +<p> +“Is there any chance of fishing?” +</p> + +<p> +He asked the question with some diffidence, fearing that it might only bore +her. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine clapped her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly what I thought. We’re going to have the jolliest little +fishing-smack imaginable for the whole day; and Sunday too, if you like; and +take our lunch with us, and fish until we are tired.” +</p> + +<p> +A glad light leapt to Alymer’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“By gad! You are a trump,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime Hal waited a little feverishly for Saturday. They were to have +one of their long outings. Meet at twelve, motor for two hours, lunch at two, +then a walk; back to town to dine, without changing, in some grill room. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Edwin had mapped it all out beforehand, sitting at his desk, with an +anxious, unhappy expression, unrelieved by the evidences all around him of what +he had achieved—of the proud position that was his. Indeed he almost +wished he could will it all away, and be just an independent, moderately +successful solicitor, able to please himself in all things; instead of bound by +the demands of party and position. +</p> + +<p> +And those demands just now were very exacting. It was not an easy party to +serve, and the less so in that its ranks numbered many soldiers of fortune of +the swashbuckler type, who meant to hold the power they had attained partly on +the exploitation of a lie, by fair means or otherwise; even if necessary by +further lies—lies upon lies—but clever, carefully manipulated ones; +not bald, childish, outspoken ones. +</p> + +<p> +One of their most prominent office-holders had recently perpetrated a lie of +the latter type. Such a barefaced, impudent, obvious lie, that there was no +possibility of covering it up, and the whole country talked of it. Music halls +laughed at it, comic papers and comic songs rang with it, election platforms +bristled with it. +</p> + +<p> +Naturally the party was very annoyed. One could imagine them saying indignantly +to the offender: “Lie as much as you like, but for goodness’ sake +have the common sense to lie cleverly. If you can’t do that, better +confine yourself to merely distorting facts.” +</p> + +<p> +The official in question held a post in the same department as Sir +Edwin—which meant that quite enough opprobrium had been recently hurled +at the Law without risk of any further scandal. +</p> + +<p> +The party was not sufficiently strong for that. They had fright enough over a +paragraph in the <i>Church Gazette</i>, hinting at a lady in connection with +one of their Ministers—where there should be no lady; but prompt action +had steered the ship through those shoals in safety. +</p> + +<p> +But all the same, this business of The Right Honourable Sir Edwin Crathie and +the Stock Exchange had got to be attended to at once. Under no possible +consideration must it leak out that a Cabinet Minister had been speculating so +heavily, and lost to such an extent, that nothing but an immense sum of money +could save him from disgrace, bankruptcy, and ruin. +</p> + +<p> +One friend and another had tided him over for some little time, but he had +continued to be reckless and incautious, relying with an unpleasant sneer upon +his title. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh well!” had been his conclusion; “if the worst comes to +the worst, I can always sell my name to an heiress.” +</p> + +<p> +Finally, that unhappy condition had arrived. It had further chosen the worst +possible moment—the moment when the music halls and comic papers were +waxing hilarious over the badly executed lie. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Edwin had been summoned to a consultation that had been the reverse of +pleasant. The only thing was that the way of escape had been thoughtfully +planned for him. He had no need to hunt up the heiress for himself. She was +considerately provided. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Bootes’ father was a wealthy Liberal, who had more than once +generously supplied funds to the party, in return for some small favour he +craved. Now he wanted a celebrity, with a title, for his daughter. Sir Edwin +hardly came up to the required standard, but Mr. Bootes was easily persuaded +that there was absolutely no limit to his possibilities, were he once set on +his feet as far as money was concerned. +</p> + +<p> +The Prime Ministership, followed by a Peerage, were in his certain grasp, had +he but the necessary money to back him. +</p> + +<p> +Papa Bootes said over an over to himself: “My daughter, Lady Elizabeth +Crathie” (it was really Eliza, but had been discreetly changed to suit +the fashion), and came to the conclusion that a Cabinet Minister for a +son-in-law sufficiently banished the odorous flavour patent manures had given +to his fortune. +</p> + +<p> +Finally he inquired the amount of Sir Edwin’s debts, and promised a +cheque if the delicate little matter were settled. +</p> + +<p> +Hence the consultation, and the polite but firm intimation that Sir Edwin must +close with the offer—that he had not even the right to choose ruin +instead, because of its effect on the party. +</p> + +<p> +And of course, now the crisis had come, Sir Edwin did not want to close with +the offer. In his own mind he consigned the party, and all belonging to it, to +the very worst hell of Dante’s Inferno. +</p> + +<p> +But, beyond relieving his mind a little, their imaginary exodus did not help +him in the least. He found himself in the very undesirable position of +furnishing a telling example of the utter impossibility of serving two masters. +</p> + +<p> +To do his common sense justice he had never had the least intention of +attempting to. Without any prevarication as far as his own feelings were +concerned, he had quite honestly chosen to serve Mammon. Having decided thus +far, he banished the very memory of any other possible master. He did not exist +for him. Mammon, in that it meant place, and power, and money, was the only god +he wanted to serve. +</p> + +<p> +And now?— +</p> + +<p> +Well, of course, the Little Girl must go. At first he said it harshly, +shrugging his shoulders and pursing his lips. It had only been a pastime all +through, and, thanks to her own pluck and sense, it had been one of those +rare, delightful pastimes that, ended suddenly, might leave only a gracious, +enjoyable memory behind. He was glad of that. +</p> + +<p> +Somewhere in his heart, that was mostly impressionless India rubber, there had +proved to be a healthy, flesh-and-blood spot after all. She had found it +quickly—gone straight to it with the unerring directness of a little +child. It existed still—would always exist for her. +</p> + +<p> +But in future the India rubber would have to close over it, and hide it from +all chance of discovery. In future he must not even remember it himself. For +that way lay weakness. No serving of Mammon could be achieved, whichever way he +turned, with the frank, candid, clever Little Girl. +</p> + +<p> +And so she must go; and since it was inevitable, the sooner the better. +</p> + +<p> +Then had come the afternoon’s golf; and, without asking himself why, he +had hidden from her that there was any change. Afterwards, because the +impending finale made him desire her as he had never desired her before, he +went into the pretty little sitting-room and kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +When he hurriedly departed, he remembered only that the kiss had been sweet. +Also that evidently no rumour had reached her yet. But of course it would. Any +moment of any day her newspaper office might get the news and publish it. +</p> + +<p> +He spent a wretched week, torn mercilessly by his desire to serve two masters. +In the end, because he was a man who hated to be thwarted, he swore a violent +oath, and said that he would. +</p> + +<p> +Then he sent Hal the urgent little note, and made his plans for the day. They +all hinged largely upon his hope to get her to go to his flat in Jermyn Street, +after that grill-room dinner. That was why when they met he cleverly took the +bull by the horns directly he saw in her eyes that she had heard the news. He +appealed, with insight, to her sense of humour. +</p> + +<p> +“If you look at me like that,” he said, “I shall punish you +by sitting down here, in St. James’s Park, on the curbstone, and giving +you an explanation before all London that lasts an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve a great mind to keep you to it,” with her low, musical +laugh, “and send Peter to bring a phonograph man with a blank record to +take it down.” +</p> + +<p> +“And a dozen journalists with snap-shot cameras, and biograph apparatus, +to link us in notorious publicity to all eternity.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I couldn’t stand that. What is your alternative?” +</p> + +<p> +“A long, perfect day in this heavenly sunshine, pretending anything in +the world you like that will make us forget the stale, boresome, old week-day +world. Then, at the end of it, the unfolding of a glorious plan that is an +explanation in itself.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked doubtful, and seemed to cogitate. He waited in an anxiety he could +scarce conceal, watching her mobile, sensitive face. Finally the sunshine and +the light-hearted carelessness made the strongest appeal, and she gave in. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. If it had been dull and cloudy I would not have agreed. But +one daren’t trifle with sunshine. We’ll take our fill of it while +it lasts.” +</p> + +<p> +So it happened that their last long day was one of the best they had +known—each being clever enough to carry out the suggested programme and +banish the following cloud for the time. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was a little feverish—a little gayer than usual, with some hidden +strain; a little pathetically anxious to act an indifference she could not +possibly feel, concerning that rumour, and throw herself heart and soul into +their compact of forgetting everything for a little while except the sunshine +and the exhilarating dash through a spring-decked England. +</p> + +<p> +In some places the hedges were white with hawthorn; and in sheltered nooks they +sped past primroses, like pale stars in the grass. There were plantations of +feathery, exquisite larch trees, their lovely green enhanced by tall dark +pines, standing among them like sentinels. In gay gardens joyous daffodils +nodded and laughed to them as they whirled past. Sir Edwin ventured an +appreciative remark. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t talk,” Hal said. “Pretend you are in a worldwide +cathedral, and it is the great annual festival of spring.” +</p> + +<p> +“May I sing?” he asked humorously. +</p> + +<p> +“No; not as you value your life. We have only to listen to the choir. +Hush, don’t you hear the birds singing the grand spring ‘Te +Deum’!” +</p> + +<p> +But after a time she spoke herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Was it all like this on Thursday night—all these delicious scents +and sights and sounds cast broadcast, for all who passed to enjoy?” +</p> + +<p> +“I expect so. Why?” +</p> + +<p> +The kindliness in the quizzical grey eyes was amazing, as he sat back, watching +her with covert insistence, instead of the spring glories. How the divine spark +changes a man for the brief moments when it reigns! Banishing utterly Stock +Exchange scandals, convenient heiresses, exacting parties, the merciless claims +of the god Mammon. He might have looked just so, years and years ago, before he +entered that hard service, and buried all his best under layer upon layer of +harsh, deadening, world-wise grasping. Pity that the best is so frail to +withstand the onslaught of the demons of power and place—so easily +overcome and thrust away probably for ever. +</p> + +<p> +“I was up in Holloway. I suppose you know it? And there was a strong man +dying a helpless invalid, and his sister breaking her heart, and a woman from +the opposite flat, who said she stood for nothing in the world but a letter of +the alphabet. And all round was gloom, and murk, and shabbiness, and hard, +pitiless facts. I came home in the tube, and all the passengers seemed to look +like lifeless, starved, white-faced mummies. They made me feel frightened. I +wondered where joy had fled to. +</p> + +<p> +“And here, was it just like this all the time?... flowers, and sweet +scents, and spring, and hopefulness?... And scarcely any one to enjoy it all; +while those white-faced, vacant mummies were journeying foolishly to and fro in +that stuffy, detestable tube.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shouldn’t go to such places. What have you to do with +Holloway, and shabbiness, and starving people? If you belonged to me, I +wouldn’t let you go.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I have to do with them. We all have. But I don’t know +what. And it frightens me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt frightened +before. It was like being brought up sharp against a stone wall.” +</p> + +<p> +His lips were suddenly a little stern. Stone walls had to be broken down. That +was the use of being strong. One was not frightened; one just got a +battering-ram, and forced a passage through. He would tell her soon, but not +out here. Not just yet. +</p> + +<p> +“You are forgetting our compact. I’m surprised at you, Hal. I call +it a slight on the sunshine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, so it is!... Avaunt, and leave my mind, Holloway! This day belongs +to the spring.” +</p> + +<p> +And until they drew up outside the Criterion Grill, she kept her spirits high, +and gave herself to the joy of the hour. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap36"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<p> +When they were half-way through dinner Hal asked, a trifle abruptly: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, what about this piece of news? What does it mean?” +</p> + +<p> +He looked away, unable to meet her candid eyes, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell you presently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where? Why not now? Why all this secrecy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because it is rather a big matter. You have sometimes said you would +like to see the horns and trophies I brought back from my shooting-trip in +Canada. Come and see them this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“At your flat?” doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal knit her forehead and looked perplexed. She had so insistently declined to +go hitherto, that she was loath now to change her mind. Yet she felt it was +rather silly to have any fear of him now. +</p> + +<p> +In the end she went. +</p> + +<p> +It was only eight o’clock, and he promised to take her home about nine. +Besides, something in his manner was baffling her, and she wanted to understand +how they stood. +</p> + +<p> +Once in the sumptuous, beautifully furnished flat, however, he seemed to +change. He came up to her suddenly, put his arms round her, and kissed her. +</p> + +<p> +“At last,” he breathed. “At last I’ve got you +absolutely to myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t do that.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal disengaged herself and held him at arm’s length. For a moment she +looked steadily into his eyes, and then she asked: +</p> + +<p> +“How has this report of your engagement got into the papers?” Her +lips curled a little. “I presume you would hardly act to me like this if +it is true.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is true in one sense, and not another.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh...” She seemed a little taken aback. “In what way is it +true. Are you engaged to Miss Bootes?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +She lifted her eyebrows, and moved a pace or two farther away. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t move away from me,” he said a little thickly. +“It isn’t the part that’s true which matters, but the part +that is not true.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“I brought you here to explain. I can do so very quickly. I am in a tight +corner. The tightest corner I ever was in my life. Only one thing can save me. +I must have money. Miss Bootes, or at any rate her father, wants a title. I +haven’t the shadow of a choice. I have got to sell her mine.” +</p> + +<p> +Again Hal’s lips curled, and a little spark of fire shone in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I can understand all that!” She tossed her head +half-unconsciously. “But why”—her lips quivered a +little—“did you think it necessary to insult both of us by, at the +same time, becoming lover-like to me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I told you why; because I love you.” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped up to her, and caught both her hands in an iron grip. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, listen to me, Hal. Don’t try to break away, for I won’t +let you go. I tell you it’s a matter of life and death. In your heart you +know quite well that I love you. You knew it when I kissed you last Saturday, +and you were glad. I don’t know when you read that announcement, but +whenever it was, your heart said to you ‘Whether it’s true or not, +he loves <i>me</i>’. Probably you didn’t believe it was true, +because you knew nothing whatever about the devilish mess I was in. But in any +case, your heart told you right. I do love you. I love you with every bit of me +that knows how to love. If I have to be hers in name, I am at any rate yours at +heart, and shall be all my life. Now, what have you to say?” +</p> + +<p> +She tried to drag her hands away, but he gripped them tightly, forcing her to +feel his strength, his resolve, and his masterfulness. +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing to say. What should I have? You have elected to sell +yourself, to let a woman”—with swift scorn—“buy you out +of a tight corner. I… I…” in a low tense voice, “am sorry we ever +met.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?—” +</p> + +<p> +He hurled the monosyllable at her, now almost crushing her hands in his grasp, +as he waited, silently compelling her to reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Because the friendship was pleasant. It has meant a good deal. And now +for it to end like this!… for me to have to scorn you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why need it end?… Why should you scorn me?… Wouldn’t every second +man you know in my place act exactly as I am acting? I have no choice. I ought +not to tell you, but my political chiefs have issued an ultimatum to me, and I +have got to obey it. Do you suppose I would consider it for a moment if I could +find any other way out? Do you suppose I would risk losing you, would even +dream of giving you up, if I were not driven to it by the very hell-hounds of +circumstance? +</p> + +<p> +“To have felt love at all is the most wonderful thing in my life: I, who +have always mocked and jeered and disbelieved. Well, anyhow it is there now. +Listen, Hal. I love you. I love you? <i>I love you</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +He tried again to kiss her, but she wrenched at her hands, held in his grip. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me go. You… you… to talk of love. You don’t know what it is. +Let me go… let me go—” +</p> + +<p> +“I won’t. By God, you shan’t speak to me like that. I +won’t endure it.” +</p> + +<p> +He was evidently losing control of himself a little, and the sight of it +steadied her. Behind all her bravado and pluck there was a terrible ache. +Caught in a mesh of circumstances, she knew she could not struggle out without +being grievously hurt at heart. She knew that, however she loathed his action +now, she could not unlove him all in a moment. +</p> + +<p> +When he scorched and seared her with his passionate declaration, her heart +cried out that she wanted him to love her, that she wanted to be his. And yet +stronger and higher and better than all, was that woman’s instinct in her +soul which loathed his action and clung wildly in the stress of the moment to +its own best ideal. +</p> + +<p> +In the swift sense of hopelessness that followed, great tears gathered in her +eyes, and welled over onto her cheeks. They had an immediate effect upon him. +He let go her hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t cry, Hal, don’t cry,” he said a little huskily. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t stand that.” +</p> + +<p> +She brushed the tears away almost angrily, but, ignoring his motion to draw up +an arm chair, remained standing, straight and slim beside the hearth, trying to +recover her composure. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Edwin commenced to pace the room. He had succeeded in his scheme so far as +to get Hal to the flat to discuss the projects in his mind, but now that she +was there he felt at a loss to proceed. He wished she would sit down; he +changed his mind and almost wished she would cry; standing there, like a +soldier on guard, with that direct, fearless expression, she disconcerted him, +by making him feel mean and paltry and small. +</p> + +<p> +And all the time he could not choose but admire her more and more. He wished +with all his heart in those moments that he could throw his position and his +party overboard, and go to her with a clean slate, and say: +</p> + +<p> +“I have done with serving Mammon. Come to me as my wife, and I will serve +you instead.” +</p> + +<p> +And instead he had brought her there to say: +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot give up serving Mammon. I must marry the heiress, but let me be +your lover and I will serve you as well.” +</p> + +<p> +And all the time Hal stood there with those resolute, set lips, as erect as a +young grenadier. +</p> + +<p> +But all the same he meant to have her if he could, and he remembered of old how +often he had found a swift, bold attack won. So he stopped short beside her, +and said: +</p> + +<p> +“You know that whatever circumstances compel me to do, all my heart is +yours, Hal, and you care a little bit about me. You know you do. Don’t +condemn me to outer darkness. Come to me like the sensible little woman you +are. No one will ever know, and I can make your life gayer and happier just as +long as ever you like.” +</p> + +<p> +She looked at him with a startled, perplexed expression. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” she asked slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, don’t get angry.” +</p> + +<p> +He laid his hand on her arm, with a caressing touch. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve knocked about the world too much not to know what I mean. +You know perfectly well half the girls you know would let themselves be +persuaded. But that isn’t what I want. I’ve too much respect for +your strength of character. Come to me because you can be strong enough to rise +above conventions and because you dare to be a law unto yourself. It is the +courage I expect of you. Hal, my darling, who is ever to be any the wiser if +you and I are lovers? Think what I can do for you to make life gay and +interesting and fresh. Don’t decide in a hurry. If no one ever knows, no +one need be hurt.” +</p> + +<p> +She moved away from him, and went and stood by the window, looking down at the +passing lights in St. James’s Street; looking at the lights in the +windows opposite, looking at the faint light of the stars overhead. +</p> + +<p> +It was characteristic of her that she did not grow angry and indignant; nor, in +a theatrical spirit, immediately attempt to impress him with the fact that she +was a good, virtuous woman, and that his suggestion filled her with horror. Her +knowledge of life was too wide, her understanding too deep. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that to such a man as he a proposal of this kind did not present any +shocking aspect whatever. When he said, “Be a sensible little +woman,” he meant it to the letter. He actually believed she would show +common sense in yielding to him, and taking what joy out of life she could. +</p> + +<p> +But, unfortunately for the world in general, it is not only the horror-struck, +conventional, shocked women who resolutely turn their eyes from the primrose +path. There are plenty of large-hearted, broad-minded women, who, seeing the +world as it is, instead of how the idealists would have it, are content to go +on their own strong way, fighting their own battle for themselves without +saying anything, and without judging the actions of others, content in striving +to live up to their own best selves. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was one of these. If another girl in her place had yielded to the alluring +prospect of possessing such an interesting lover as Sir Edwin, to brighten the +commonplace, daily round, she would not have blamed her, she would have tried +not to judge her. +</p> + +<p> +But she would have been sorry for her in many ways, knowing how apt the +primrose path is to turn suddenly to thorns and stones; and in an hour of need +she would have stood by her if she could. +</p> + +<p> +But the fact of possessing these wide sympathies did not lessen any obligation +she felt to herself. It was her creed to “play the game” as far as +in her lay, and according to her own definition. +</p> + +<p> +That definition did not admit of any irregularity of this kind. It called, +instead, sternly and insistently for absolute denial. It told her now, without +the smallest shadow of doubt, that from tonight she must never see Sir Edwin +again. She must take whatever interest he had brought out of her life, and go +back to the old, monotonous round. +</p> + +<p> +It was useless to question or reason. The decree was there in her own heart. +The insistent call to keep her colours flying high, as she fought her way +through the pitfalls of life to the Highest and Best. +</p> + +<p> +As she paced the room behind her, disclosing a carefully thought-out plan, now +pleading, now expostulating, she heard him rather as one afar off. +</p> + +<p> +The plan did not matter one way or another. If she could have let herself go at +all she would not have troubled about plans. His pleading and expostulating she +scarcely heard. +</p> + +<p> +She was looking out at all the lights, and her mind was grappling with +problems. How harsh the glare of the streets appeared tonight. How far, far +away the pin points that were stars. Hal liked a city. +</p> + +<p> +Constellations hanging like great lamps in wonderful, wilderness skies would +have wearied her quickly. She loved people, and she liked them all about her. +But tonight she felt suddenly very near to the dark, shadowy side of +life—very far from the stars of light. +</p> + +<p> +She glanced up at the pin points a little wistfully. If perhaps they were +nearer with their message of high striving; if perhaps the glare at hand were +less harsh, there might be so much more steadfast courage in the world; so much +less weak acceptance of conditions that led to pain and misery and disaster. +</p> + +<p> +At last he stood beside her, and implored her to tell him, once for all, that +she would yield and come. +</p> + +<p> +But when he saw into the clear depths of her eyes, he knew his hopes were vain. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, with swift self-distrust, his mood softened. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I’ve shocked you past forgiveness now,” he said +miserably. “You’ll think I’ve been a brute to you, and +you’ll never forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I shan’t think that; but I should like to go home at +once.” +</p> + +<p> +“But surely that is not your last word!” +</p> + +<p> +“What else is there so say? I... I... can’t do that sort of thing. +That is all. From today you must go your way, and I must go mine. It is +useless to discuss it. Let me go home.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you can’t mean it,” he cried. “Surely we are not +to part like this.” +</p> + +<p> +She had moved back into the room now, and was pulling on her gloves. +</p> + +<p> +“What else can we do?” +</p> + +<p> +“But you care for me, Hal. You can’t deny it. You do care a little; +don’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +She looked into his eyes without a tremor, but with a pain at the back of hers +that made him flinch. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I care,” she said very quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he sat down, and buried his face in his arms on the table. Every good, +honest trait he possessed called to him to throw “Mammon” to the +winds, and make her happy. Let the party take care of itself. It was not for +his nobility of character they had taken him into the Cabinet. Let his +creditors do their worst—a strong man could win through anything. But the +mood did not last. There was not enough room in that India rubber heart for it +to expand and grow. It died for want of breathing-space. +</p> + +<p> +“If you care, why can’t you have the courage to come to me?” +he asked a little fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I have the courage to stay away.” +</p> + +<p> +And he knew—hardened sinner that he was—that she named the greater +courage. +</p> + +<p> +But his goaded feelings called to him, and drove him, making him mad with the +knowledge he must lose her. +</p> + +<p> +“Heroics!…” he said—“heroics!… Don’t talk like a +bread-and-butter miss, Hal. It is unthinkable of you.” +</p> + +<p> +He got up from his chair and took a step towards her, but stood +irresolute—daunted by the calm strength in her face. +</p> + +<p> +“The world is too old for heroics any more. Every one laughs at them. +Where is the politician today who cares tuppence for anything but the main +chance? We blazon our way into office, and we blazon louder still to keep +there. It is the spirit of the age. The strong man takes what he wants, and +holds it by right of his strength. In primeval times we used fists and clubs. +Now we hit with brains and words or hard cash. That is all the difference. The +strong man is still the one who takes what he wants, and keeps it. And I want +you, Hal. It is mere feebleness—childishness—to be thwarted by +convention and circumstance. Hoodwink convention, and stamp on circumstance. Go +through stone walls with a battering-ram. As long as the world doesn’t +know—who cares? Those are my sentiments. They have been for years. When I +want a thing, I go for it bald-headed, and take it.” +</p> + +<p> +He drew nearer boldly, refusing to be daunted, putting all his strength and +determination against hers. +</p> + +<p> +“And I want you, Hal. Do you understand? Don’t be a little fool. +Come.” +</p> + +<p> +She backed away from him towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand well enough,” she said quietly, “and I shall +never see you again if I can help it. All that you say does not appeal to me in +the least. I am not a politician—thank God—and I am still +old-fashioned enough to possess an ideal. I am going now. Good-bye.” +</p> + +<p> +But when he saw she was already in the little hall, a wave of fierce desire +seemed to catch him by the throat. +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet,” he exclaimed hoarsely: “Not yet… I care and you +care—you cannot go yet—” +</p> + +<p> +But before he reached her, she had slipped through the front door, and shut it +behind her, and run down the stairs out into the street. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap37"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<p> +All through the next day, while motoring with her cousin Dick Bruce, Hal made a +valiant effort to appear exactly as usual; but all the fresh spring countryside +now seemed to mock her with its sudden emptiness, and the very engine of the +motor throbbed out to her that something had gone from her life which would not +come back any more. +</p> + +<p> +She chatted away to Dick manfully, about all manner of things, but in the +pauses of their chatter she was silent and still in a manner quite unlike her +old self—reattending with a start, and sometimes so distrait she did not +hear when he spoke to her. +</p> + +<p> +After a time Dick began to notice, and then purposely to watch, and finally he +perceived all her gaiety was forced, and sometimes was weighing heavily on her +mind. +</p> + +<p> +It was useless to say anything while they motored, so he gave all his attention +to his driving, and purposely allowed the conversation to drop. +</p> + +<p> +When they returned to Bloomsbury he went in to supper with her, as was his +habit, and, as he hoped, Dudley was away up at Holloway. It was not until they +had finished their meal, and the landlady had cleared away, that he attacked +the subject; then, with characteristic directness, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Hal, what’s the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“The matter?…” in surprise. “What can you mean, Dick? Why +should anything be the matter?” +</p> + +<p> +She tried to meet his eyes frankly, but before the searching inquiry in them +her gaze dropped to the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“Something is the matter, Hal. Just as if I shouldn’t know.” +</p> + +<p> +She was thoughtful a moment or two, thinking how best to put him off the right +scent; then with overpowering suddenness came the recollection of all the +pleasure and interest and delight the lost friendship had stood for, and her +eyes filled with tears. It was useless to attempt to hide them, so she +contrived to say as steadily as possible: +</p> + +<p> +“I am a bit down on my luck about something; but it’s nothing to +worry about. Don’t take any notice; there’s a dear boy. I shall +soon forget.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why shouldn’t I take any notice? Don’t be a goose, Hal. +Tell me what’s the matter.” +</p> + +<p> +She was silent, and after a pause he added: +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it is Sir Edwin?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal felt it useless to prevaricate, and so she said, with assumed lightness: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it has been a little sudden, and we had some jolly times +together.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he is engaged?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +She told him briefly why. Dick watched her with a question in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Did he deliberately get engaged to the other girl, knowing he cared for +you?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Hal tried to lie. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there was nothing of that sort between him and me. We were just good +pals. But of course it can’t go on the same.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re not a clever liar, Hal,” he said, with a little +smile. +</p> + +<p> +She coloured and bit her lip, with an uneasy laugh. Then the tears shone again. +</p> + +<p> +“Better tell me about it. Perhaps I can lend a hand to get through +with.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal placed her hands on the mantelshelf, and leaned her forehead down on them. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me something funny, Dick, or I shall howl in a few seconds. +Don’t be serious. Be idiotic. Have the carrots and turnips decided which +take precedence yet? Is her ladyship, the onion, weeping upon the +cabbage’s lordly bosom? Are the babies talking philosophy over their +bottles? For Heaven’s sake, Dick, be idiotic, and make me laugh.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think it would do you more good to cry.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, no: I hate to cry. Do help me not to.” +</p> + +<p> +But Dick understood the relief it was to a woman to have it out, and he just +sat down in Dudley’s big arm chair, and reached the favourite footstool +for Hal. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit on the stool of confessional, and I’ll make you laugh later +on. If you don’t cry now, you will when I’ve gone.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal sat on the footstool, and leaning against his knee, cried quietly for +several minutes. He played with an unruly strand of hair until she dried her +eyes, and then said: +</p> + +<p> +“When we were kids, you always told me when things went wrong with you. +Tell me all about it now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I left off being a kid about a month ago. I’m ancient history +now”; and she tried to smile through her tears. +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, just because—” and then her voice broke suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose Sir Edwin was in love with you?” +</p> + +<p> +She did not reply. +</p> + +<p> +“And he was obliged to marry the other woman for the money.” +</p> + +<p> +He was thoughtful for some moments, and then added: +</p> + +<p> +“All the same, when a man like that goes so far as to love a woman, which +must be a pretty novel experience for him, he doesn’t let her go lightly. +He won’t let you go lightly, Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not see him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Has it come to that already?” +</p> + +<p> +“It had to. There was no other course.” +</p> + +<p> +“It sounds rather sudden and drastic.” He watched her keenly. +“A man like that would try to get both of you. Did he try, Hal?” +</p> + +<p> +The hot blood rushed to her face, and she turned her head away. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he would think it the obvious, sensible course, I suppose, and +perhaps a good many women would, too. What did you think, Hal?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t think. I hurried away. I shall not see him any more at +all.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her with a light in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Bravo,” he said; and there was a low thrill in his voice. +“He’ll think the world more of you, Hal.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not sure; anyhow, it doesn’t help very much.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then you wanted to go.” +</p> + +<p> +She stared into the fire and was silent. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” he said simply. “You are one of the women who would +have dared, only… of course I knew you wouldn’t, Hal. And, if you had, I +shouldn’t have been the one to blame you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” she told him, still staring at the fire. “I could have +dared under some circumstance. But not these. Never under pretty, ignoble ones. +I think that all makes it worse. There were two Sir Edwins. There was one I +knew, and another the world knew. It was the other that triumphed. Mine will +never come back. It is all finished.” +</p> + +<p> +She bowed her head down on her arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Dick,” she said. “I shall miss him badly.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’m glad you let him go, Hal.” He spoke in a quiet voice +full of feeling. “Most men are pretty casual and indifferent nowadays, +and we often say we like a woman to be broad-minded, and daring, and all that; +but, by Jove! when we know she’s straight as a die, without being a +prude, we’re ready to kneel down to her. +</p> + +<p> +“Stand to your guns, Hal. I... I... want to go on knowing that you are +among those one wants to kneel down to. If he is very persistent and +persevering, and it gets harder, I dare say I can help. You can always +’phone me at a moment’s notice, and I shall consider myself at your +beck and call.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are a dear, Dick, but I shall not see him. He can only wait for me +at the office, and I shall go out the back way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, if you’re rather lost there are lots of things we might do +to fill up the time. I’ve been going down East with Quin lately. +It’s awfully interesting. Especially with him—he’s so +splendid with the most hopeless characters. There’s a sing-song at one of +the clubs on Wednesday eve. Come down with us. You’ll see Quin at his +very best.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d love to come. Will you fetch me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll fetch you from the office, and we’ll have a sort of +meat-tea meal at the Cheshire Cheese. Perhaps Quin will join us.” +</p> + +<p> +So they sat on and talked in the firelight till it was time for Dick to go; and +all the time Hal was unconsciously drawing strength and resolution from him for +the fight that lay ahead of her. +</p> + +<p> +Many years ago when she broke her dolls he had tried to mend them and comfort +her. And now, because he was a simple, manly gentleman, blessed with the +precious gift of understanding—when she was feeling heart-broken he tried +with all the old, generous affection to help to heal the wound, and bring her +consolation. +</p> + +<p> +And away on the southern shore, where a little fishing-village nestled in the +cliffs, and a creeper-covered hotel awaited sleepily the coming of the summer +and the summer visitors, Lorraine came to what she deemed her hour—the +one great hour left—and, as a drowning man, caught at her straw. Two long +perfect days they had spent on the sea, with an old fisherman, full of +anecdote, and his young grandson to sail the boat. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the dreamy twilight hour, and their utter loneness; and Alymer, with +the strong, swift blood in his veins, and the strong lust of life in his heart, +lost himself, as she meant that he should, in the intoxicating atmosphere of +her charm and fascination. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap38"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<p> +When Hal and her cousin emerged from the office the following Wednesday +evening, the first thing Hal saw was Sir Edwin’s motor, and Sir Edwin +himself standing waiting for her. A disengaged taxi was just moving off, having +deposited a fare, and instantly, without a word to Dick, she sprang into it. +Dick gave a sharp glance round and followed her. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him where to go,” she said. +</p> + +<p> +He directed the chauffeur, and then looked anxiously into her face. She had +turned very pale, and seemed for the moment overcome. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir Edwin’s motor?” he asked, and she nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall I call for you every day?” he said at once. +</p> + +<p> +“No. He can’t possibly see me if I go out the other way.” +Then she added: “He won’t go on for long. He was there yesterday, +but he did not see me; and after today I dare say he will give it up.” +</p> + +<p> +Finally she added, with an effort: +</p> + +<p> +“I heard this morning the wedding is already fixed for June. It’s +to be one of the weddings of the season”; and her lips curled somewhat. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m more sorry for her than for you, Hal,” he said quietly. +“You’ve a lot of splendid years before you yet. Heaven only knows +what’s ahead of her. I doubt he’ll not give her much beside his +name for his share of the bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +She made no comment, leaning back in her corner, white and tired. It was +difficult to imagine anything ever being splendid again just then; or any man +ever seeming other than tame, after Sir Edwin’s clever, virile, +interesting personality. +</p> + +<p> +But Dick had judged wisely in suggesting the trip down East. Anything West +would merely have recalled painful memories. The East of London was new to her, +and could not fail to be interesting to any one with Hal’s love of her +fellows. +</p> + +<p> +They went to a large parish hall, where Quin was in charge for a social evening +of dancing and music. Factory girls were there in all their tawdry finery to +dance; rough, boisterous youths mostly made fun of them; tired, white-faced, +over-worked middle-aged women sat round the walls, laughing weakly, but +forgetting the drudgery for a little while. At one end of the room older men +sat and smoked, and looked at illustrated periodicals. +</p> + +<p> +Hal entered with Quin and Dick on either side of her, and was immediately +accosted by a young lady, with a longer and straighter feather than most of +them, with the remark: +</p> + +<p> +“Hullo, miss!… which of ’em’s yer sweet’eart?” +</p> + +<p> +A burst of laughter greeted this sally, but Hal, not in the least disconcerted, +replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Why, both, of course… I’ll be bound you’ve had two at a time +often enough.” +</p> + +<p> +The repartee delighted all within hearing, and from that moment Hal was a +brilliant succes at the social evenings. She only wondered she had never +thought to go before; but perhaps no other moment would have been just so +propitious. +</p> + +<p> +The sudden blank in her life craved some interest that was entirely new, and +made her more ready to receive fresh impressions and create fresh occupations. +She quickly found real pleasure in teaching the girls to dance properly, in +listening to their outspoken humour, and soon developed an interest in their +varied and vigorous personalities. +</p> + +<p> +As she and Dick went home together that evening he noted joyfully that a little +colour had come back to her face, and there was once more a genuine gleam in +her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You liked it?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Immensely.” +</p> + +<p> +“It grows on one. You’ll like it better still yet. Alymer and I +have always rather laughed at Quin, and regarded him as a crank. But he’s +not. It’s just that he loves humanity, and he gets quite close up to the +core of it down there, even if it is half-smothered in vice and dirt. I +don’t believe he’ll ever take orders. It’s partly because +he’s not a clergyman, and they know it, he’s such a success. +Tonight, for instance, there was a big bullying chap trying to spoil all the +fun for the men who wanted to smoke peacefully and look at the books. Quin +remonstrated, and he turned round and swore violently at him. To my surprise, +Quin, if anything, outdid him. I wouldn’t have believed Quin could swear +like that. I’m sure I couldn’t myself. The chap just looked at him, +and tried another oath or two doubtfully. And Quin said: +</p> + +<p> +“Go on if you like, I’m not nearly through yet. I can’t be a +blank, blank, blank bully, and I don’t want to be—it’s +nothing to be proud of; but I’m as much of a man as you any day.” +</p> + +<p> +“The other chaps laughed then, and the brute slunk off to the other side +of the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“I asked Quin about it later, and he said: +</p> + +<p> +“‘Oh well, you’ve got to talk to them in their own language, +or they don’t listen. That’s the best of not being a clergyman. Of +course one couldn’t very well curse and swear then. But it’s the +way to manage them. That chap will come to heel in an evening or two, and be +reasonably quiet.’ +</p> + +<p> +“You hit the right note straight off, Hal. Quin was awfully pleased. Talk +to them on their own level first, and presently you’ll be getting them +struggling up to yours almost without knowing it. He’s frightfully keen +for you to go again.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going every Wednesday,” she said, “and other times +as well.” +</p> + +<p> +They parted at the door, and Hal went in alone. +</p> + +<p> +The moment she stood in the sitting-room she knew that something had happened. +Dudley was sitting in his big chair by the fire, holding neither book nor +paper, gazing silently at the flames. +</p> + +<p> +At the table she stood still. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the matter, Dudley?… What has happened?” +</p> + +<p> +There were a few moments’ silence, then, scarcely looking round, he +replied: +</p> + +<p> +“She’s gone. Run away with another man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gone!…” she echoed. “Gone… with another man! … Do you mean +Doris?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. She was married at a Registry Office this morning. A messenger boy +took the letter up this evening, after they had left for the Continent.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal sat down. It was so violently sudden she felt stunned. After a moment +Dudley got up and moved aimlessly about the room. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s no use attempting to say anything, Hal. There’s nothing +to say. Of course I know you’re sorry, and all that, but I’d rather +you didn’t say it. You never liked the engagement, and you never liked +Doris. Probably you were justified, but it doesn’t make it any easier for +me now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who has she gone with?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe he’s a South African millionaire.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!—” +</p> + +<p> +“You had heard of him?…” sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Only last week, from the tenant opposite. She did not know I was your +sister, and said something about Doris having two young men, and one of them +was a South African millionaire.” +</p> + +<p> +He made no comment, but continued his aimless walk. +</p> + +<p> +“What about Ethel and Basil?” she could not help asking. +</p> + +<p> +“They are terribly upset. As soon as I had been shown the letter I went +out to make inquiries. Ethel could not rest for fear everything was not square. +She wanted to go off after her at once. But it’s all correct. I saw the +Registrar. They were properly married, and they left for Dover at eleven, bound +for Paris.” +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world will become of Basil?” +</p> + +<p> +He winced visibly. Doris’s flagrant selfishness to Basil hurt almost more +than her faithlessness to himself. +</p> + +<p> +“She stated in the letter that her husband was allowing her a thousand a +year for herself, and she was prepared to pay a housekeeper to look after Basil +and the flat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Little beast,” Hal breathed under her breath. “What are they +going to do?” she said aloud. +</p> + +<p> +“The tenant opposite insists upon taking Doris’s place. She was +sitting with him when Ethel got home, and the letter arrived about the same +time. Nothing else will satisfy her. She is going to be with him all day, and +only teach in the evenings after Ethel has got back.” +</p> + +<p> +“How splendid of her!” involuntarily. +</p> + +<p> +“She hardly seems the kind of person Basil would like, but he appeared +quite pleased. It may have been a little quixotism. All he said was: +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world should we have done without you, G; and there! only a +few weeks ago you were wishing you had not been born.” +</p> + +<p> +“How like Basil. All gratitude and understanding as usual. But it must +have hit him rather hard, Dudley. Is he all right?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know.” The gloom on Dudley’s face deepened. +“I thought he looked very ill, but I could not get Ethel to say much. She +seemed rather to avoid me. I don’t think she likes me.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was conscious of a little inward smile of gladness. She had guessed +Ethel’s secret long enough ago, and she knew the power of uncertainty and +a little thwarting. Dudley would naturally try to break down Ethel’s +dislike; and perhaps in doing so he would grow to know her better. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I must try and get up tomorrow,” was all she said. +“Ethel is so reserved. She will get ill herself if she broods and frets +on the top of all her work and anxiety.” +</p> + +<p> +“Will you?” he asked, with some eagerness. “Basil loves to +see you; and if he is really worse, I shall get Sir John Maitland to go up and +see him again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I’ll go. We may be able to help them between us.” +</p> + +<p> +She was just going away upstairs to bed, when the forlorness of Dudley’s +attitude, and the thought of her own sore heart before Dick comforted her, made +her lay down her hat again and cross the room to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley, don’t forget you’ve got me still. I know I’m +very trying sometimes, but I love you so much more than Doris ever could +have.” +</p> + +<p> +She sat on the arm of his chair, and played with the lapel of his coat. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t forget about me, Dudley. If you are just only miserable, I +shall be miserable too.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her with a sudden greater depth of affection than she had ever +seen. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t forget, Hal. If it weren’t for you, what in the +world should I do now?… It’s no use talking about it, is it? You will +understand that; but thank God you’re still here with me, and we can go +on the same again.” +</p> + +<p> +She stooped and kissed him hurriedly, and then left the room, that he might not +see the tears brimming over in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning she rang up Lorraine’s flat, to know if she had come +back yet. She was rather surprised when Jean her maid answered. It was not like +Lorraine to go away without her maid. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t know when to expect her?…” she repeated +uncertainly. +</p> + +<p> +“No; Miss Vivian said she might come any day, or she might stay over +another Sunday. She has the motor with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is she far from a station?” Hal asked, contemplating the +possibility of joining her on Saturday if she had not returned. +</p> + +<p> +“About seven miles, I think. She went down in the car, and is coming back +in it. I have had one letter, in which she says she is having lovely weather, +and absolute rest, and feeling much better.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s good. Well, if she comes back suddenly will you ask her to +’phone me? I want to see her.” +</p> + +<p> +But neither the next day nor the one after was there any call, and in reply to +a second query on Saturday, Jean said she had only received a wire that morning +saying she was staying until Tuesday. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was a little puzzled that she had not been invited down for the second +weekend, but decided Lorraine must have meant to return and changed her mind +at the last moment, leaving no time to get a message to her. +</p> + +<p> +A later encounter with Dick, however, puzzled her more than ever. +</p> + +<p> +“Old Alymer is taking quite a long holiday,” he said. “We +were expecting him on Tuesday or Wednesday, but he never turned up. He was at +the Temple on Thursday, but went away again in the evening.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope Lorraine isn’t ill?” she said anxiously; “but +of course if she is, she would have sent for Jean.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is he away with Miss Vivian?” Dick asked in some surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I made him go,” loyally. “He had scruples, but really +they seemed too silly, and Lorraine looked so ill, and he always has the knack +of cheering her up and doing her good.” +</p> + +<p> +Dick looked at her doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope you were wise,” he said; “but they are rather +fascinating people, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nonsense! Lorraine is quite eleven years older than Alymer, and she +only likes to look at him.” +</p> + +<p> +Dick had it in his mind to suggest there had been a far greater disparity +between her and Sir Edwin, but he only said: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he is good to look at, isn’t he?… and such a dear old chap. +Nothing seems to spoil him. And of course Miss Vivian has done an awful lot for +him. If she wanted him to go, he could hardly refuse.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just what I said,” with a little note of triumph. +“And Jean told me Lorraine had said in a letter she was having absolute +rest, and feeling much better.” +</p> + +<p> +Yet, when Hal was alone she wondered a little again why Lorraine, after +inviting her for the first Sunday, had said nothing about the second. It was +quite unusual for her not to go for a weekend when Lorraine was at the sea. +</p> + +<p> +She felt suddenly that they wanted to be alone, yet persuaded herself it was +only because Lorraine had been so tired. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap39"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + +<p> +Hal’s uneasiness concerning Lorraine and Alymer Hermon was swallowed up +almost immediately on Lorraine’s return, by a sudden alarming change in +Basil Hayward. The first time she went to Holloway after Doris’s +elopement, she saw the decided symptoms of change, and her report to Dudley +caused the latter once more, on his own responsibility, to request Sir John +Maitland to pay a visit to the little flat. +</p> + +<p> +Sir John’s report was the reverse of reassuring, and they all felt the +end was at hand. Dudley went to Holloway nearly every evening, and sometimes +stayed until the middle of the night, to sit up with the sick man. +</p> + +<p> +Hal went from the office in the afternoons, two or three days each week. When +she was there the tenant from Flat G went home to snatch a short rest, in case +a bad night lay ahead. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel went quietly on her way, looking as if already a sorrow had wrapped her +round before which human aid and human sympathy were powerless. +</p> + +<p> +She went to the office as usual, and did her usual work, in nervous dread from +hour to hour lest a telephone call should summon her in haste. She scarcely +spoke to any one but Hal; and not very much to her; but it was evident in a +thousand little ways that she liked to have her near. +</p> + +<p> +With Dudley a new sort of coldness seemed to have sprung up. He was +self-conscious ill at ease with her now; anxious to show his sympathy, yet made +awkward by his self-sown notion that he was antagonistic to her. Ethel did not +notice it very much. All her thoughts were with Basil. +</p> + +<p> +Hal saw it and was troubled. She was afraid the slight misunderstanding might +grow into a barrier that it would be extremely difficult to break down later +on. However, she could only watch anxiously at present, and try in small ways +to smooth out the growing difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +Basil himself was the most consistently cheerful of all. He believed that he +was near the end of his long martyrdom, and that in another sphere he would be +given back his health and strength. +</p> + +<p> +He had seemed very worried at first about Doris and Dudley, but gradually he +became philosophical over it, and hoped the future would bring united happiness +to Dudley and Ethel. He consigned her to Dudley’s care and Hal’s. +</p> + +<p> +To Dudley he merely said: +</p> + +<p> +“I know you’ll always be a good friend to chum. I’m thankful +she will at least have you.” +</p> + +<p> +Dudley did not say much in reply, but he looked sufficiently unhappy, and +withal so glad of the service, that it spoke volumes. +</p> + +<p> +To Hal he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Chum is very fond of you, Hal. You’ll keep an eye on her, +won’t you? Perhaps there is no one else but you who can.” +</p> + +<p> +Quick tears shone in Hal’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I will… two eyes.. I don’t know that I shall let her out +of my sight at all.” +</p> + +<p> +Other evening, because Dudley was so often at Holloway, Hal went to dinner with +the Three Graces. Dick often fetched her from the office, and they went back +together. Now that she had become interested in the East End, they had schemes +to talk over, and she and Quin were never weary of discussing odd characters +there, and odd histories, and plans for different amusements. +</p> + +<p> +Dick joined in a times, but was very busy with his new book. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon had grown strangely quiet. At intervals, for the sake of old +times, he and Hal had sparring matches, but if, as was not very usual, he +happened to be at home, he was inclined to do little else but lounge and smoke, +and watch her while presumably reading a paper. +</p> + +<p> +Hal did not notice it particularly. She had many other things on her mind just +then, and Alymer only filled a very small corner. She was glad he was +progressing so satisfactorily. He was well started up the ladder now, and +though he had had no single big chance to distinguish himself once for all, it +was generally regarded as merely a matter of time. She fancied she did not meet +him so much at Lorraine’s, but as she did not go nearly so often herself, +on account of the Holloway visits, she could not really know. +</p> + +<p> +But she noticed that Lorraine also was a little different—a little more +reserved and likewise quieter. She seemed still to be ailing a good deal, and +to have lost interest in her profession. +</p> + +<p> +Yet she did not seem unhappy. On the contrary, Hal thought her happier than +usual in an undemonstrative, dreamy sort of way. She was interested in the East +End social evenings, and on one occasion went herself. +</p> + +<p> +She was also interested in Basil Hayward, and motored up with lovely flowers +for him; but she talked far less of the theatre, and seemed indisposed to +consider a new part. +</p> + +<p> +“I want a real long rest this summer,” she had said, “free +from rehearsals and everything.” +</p> + +<p> +In mid-June Sir Edwin was married, with a great deal of display, and much +paragraphing of newspapers. The day before the wedding, Hal received a +beautiful gold watch and chain from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Do not be angry, and do not send it back,” he wrote. “Keep +it and wear it in memory of some one who was known to you only, and who has +since died. To me, it is like honouring the memory of my best self if I can +persuade you thus to perpetuate it. Good-bye, Little Girl; and God bless +you.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal kept the watch and wore it, and the only one who demurred was Alymer +Hermon. It was spoken of at the Cromwell Road flat one evening, when he was +present but taking no part in the conversation. Dick admired it, and she told +him it had been given to her recently. +</p> + +<p> +Quin was not there, and a moment later Dick was called away to speak to some +one at the telephone. Alymer looked up at Hal suddenly, with a very direct +gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine told me Sir Edwin gave you the watch the other day. I +don’t know how you can keep it, much less wear it. You ought to throw it +into the Thames.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal flushed up angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I’m interested in your opinion on the matter,” she +said, “but I had not thought of asking for it.” +</p> + +<p> +Hermon flushed too, but he stood his ground. +</p> + +<p> +“It would be the opinion of most men.” +</p> + +<p> +“‘Most men’ don’t appeal to me in the least. I am quite +satisfied with my own opinion in this matter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, I wish you wouldn’t wear it,” he urged, a little +boyishly. “The man has shown himself a cad. He was in a tight corner, and +he let a woman buy him out.” +</p> + +<p> +“And don’t most men take help from a woman at some time or +other?” +</p> + +<p> +He winced, but answered sturdily: +</p> + +<p> +“Not monetary help. Besides, he didn’t worry much about getting you +talked of, did he?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal was just going to make a sarcastic retort, when Dick reappeared, and the +matter was dropped. +</p> + +<p> +But when she came to think of it afterwards, she could not but be a little +struck at Alymer’s attitude, and wondered why he had taken so much +interest in her action. +</p> + +<p> +A few days later Basil Hayward died. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was not there at the time, but Dudley had not come home at all the previous +night, and she was afraid that his friend was worse. In the afternoon she had +been detained at the office, and she hardly liked to go up to Holloway in the +evening without knowing if she was wanted. +</p> + +<p> +So she sat anxiously waiting for Dudley. When at last he arrived he looked +haggard and worn and ill. Hal stood up when he came in, and waited for him to +speak. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all over,” he said, and sank into his chair as if he +were dead-beat. +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s hart ached with sympathy. She felt instinctively there was more +here than grief for a friend whose death could only be regarded as a merciful +release. +</p> + +<p> +She was right. For the last three weeks Dudley and Ethel had been in almost +daily contact beside the dying man’s bed. Silently, devotedly they had +served him together. +</p> + +<p> +But while Ethel was occupied only with the sufferer, Dudley, in the long +night-watches, had seen at last what manner of woman it was he had passed by +for the pretty, shallow, selfish little sister. +</p> + +<p> +Ever since the elopement, three months ago, he had been changing. It had been +the bitter blow that had stabbed him awake. In some mysterious way new aspects, +new ideas, new understanding, began to develop, where before had been chiefly a +narrow outlook and rigid conformity. +</p> + +<p> +It was though in the fulfilling of her work, Life had harrowed his soul with a +bitter harrowing, that it might bring forth the better fruit in its season. The +harrowing had seared and scarred, but already the new richness was showing, +the new promise of a nobler future. +</p> + +<p> +The All-wise Mother works very much in human life as she does in +nature—topping off a hope here, and a hope there; ploughing, pruning, +harrowing the soil and branches of the mind and spirit, that they may bring +forth rich fruit in due season. +</p> + +<p> +The life that she passes by unheeded, leaving it only to the sunshine and wind +and rain, often grows little else but rank vegetation, and develops rust and +mould—never the crops that are life-giving and life-sustaining to the +world; never the great thoughts, great deeds, wide sympathies, that raise +mankind to the skies. +</p> + +<p> +But for Dudley the harrowing was not yet finished. Perhaps, indeed, no moment +of all had been quite so bitter as the sense of his utter unworthiness and +utter incapability to help Ethel in her hour of direst need. +</p> + +<p> +The mere thought unnerved him for the little he might have done. He was so +imbued with the idea of his helplessness, that he could only stammer a few +broken sentences she seemed scarcely capable of hearing. +</p> + +<p> +He had but one consolation. Towards the end, the sick man, suddenly opening his +eyes, looked round for his sister, and seeing she was absent, had regarded +Dudley with his whole face full of a question. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley leant down to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, old chap,” he asked tenderly. “What is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ethel… chum… you will try and help her?” +</p> + +<p> +Then Dudley, with his new understanding, had grasped all that the dying man +hoped. +</p> + +<p> +“I love her,” he said very simply. “I have been a blind fool, +but I am awake now. I shall give my life to trying to win her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! thank God… thank God,” Basil whispered. “It is certain +to come right some day—don’t lose heart. You have made me very +happy.” +</p> + +<p> +He sank into stupor after that, and spoke no more, except for a whispered +“Chum”, just before he died. +</p> + +<p> +Then it was that the full flood of Dudley’s bitterness seemed to close in +upon him, for his tortured mind translated Ethel’s stunned grief into +veiled antipathy to his presence; and when there was nothing left for him to +see to, he went home for Hal. +</p> + +<p> +In his chair, with his head bowed on his hands, Hal thought he had aged years +in the last three months. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do?” she asked. “Shall I go to Ethel?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—will you? She doesn’t want me. I feel as if she hated my +being there now. But if you would go—?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is your imagination, Dudley. Things have all got a little topsy-turvy +since Doris went, but presently you will see you were mistaken. Don’t +lose heart too quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +But he refused to be comforted, and merely shook his head in silent desolation. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll stay with her if she wants you?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’ll stay”; and she went away to get her hat. +</p> + +<p> +As she mounted the stairs in Holloway, the door of Flat G opened as if some one +within had been listening for her, and a stealthy head peeped out. Then a hand +beckoned. +</p> + +<p> +Hal crossed the landing and went inside the door. The poor +music-teacher’s face was swollen almost past recognition with crying. +</p> + +<p> +“What am I to do?… what am I to do?” she moaned, rocking herself +backwards and forwards. “There was only one thing in all the world that +made my life worth living, and now it is gone.” +</p> + +<p> +She sobbed bitterly for a few minutes, softened by Hal’s sympathetic +presence, then she told her brokenly: +</p> + +<p> +“They’re all mourning. Every single soul in this dreary building. +Considering he never left the flat, it’s wonderful—wonderful; but +he knew all the children, and they all knew him. And if you know the children +you know the fathers and mothers. +</p> + +<p> +“Little Splodgkins, as we always called him, has been sitting like a +small stone effigy on the stairs outside his door. He has patrolled the whole +staircase for days, keeping the other children quiet. I told Mr. Hayward, and +he sent him a message. He said, ‘Tell him to grow up a fine man, and +fight for his country, and not to forget me before we meet again.’ The +little chap fought back his tears when I gave him the message, and he said: +‘Tell him, I thaid dammit, tho I will.’ +</p> + +<p> +“But they’re young, and they’ve got each other, most of the +other folks here, and I’ve got nothing—nothing. Miss Pritchard, I +can’t go on again the same—I can’t—I +can’t.” +</p> + +<p> +“You must help Miss Hayward, at any rate for a time,” Hal told her; +“if you didn’t you would be failing him now; and even little +Splodgkins doesn’t mean to do that.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, of course you’re right. I can light the fire for her in the +afternoon and put the kettle on. It isn’t much to be alive for, but +he’d say it was worth while. He’d say, ‘What would she do +without a G in the alphabet?’ wouldn’t he? I must remember. And now +you must go to her. It’s worse for her than me, only that she’s +still got all her life before her, and she’s very attractive, while I +never seemed to please any one in my life but him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I must go now,” Hal said; “but I’ll come and see +you again. Come down east with me next Wednesdayn evening, to a social evening +in the slums, will you? They’re so interesting. We’ll have tea +together first. I’ll arrange to take you, and then you’ll meet +Dick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye for the present.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she crossed the landing, wondering with a sinking heart how she could ever +hope to comfort Ethel. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap40"></a>CHAPTER XL</h2> + +<p> +It was not until a spell of exhaustingly hot weather set in in early July that +Hal saw a still more noticeable frailty in Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +She was quite unable to act, and spent a great deal of time on her sofa near +the window, where she could just distinguish the river through the trees. It +seemed to have a growing fascination for her. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve always thought,” she told Hal one day, “how +I’d like to go away from the fret and worry of London, smoothly down the +river to a haven of sunshine and sea.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you go, Lorry. Why not go at once, before you get any +weaker?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I must. This sultry heat is too much for me, and I’m very +tired of London and everything belonging to it. I should like to have gone to +my old haven on the Italian Riviera, but it would be too hot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why so far?” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine glanced at Hal with a strange expression in her eyes, as she said: +</p> + +<p> +“It is a greater rest to get right away. I shall try some little place in +Brittany. Switzerland is so overrun with tourists in the summer.” +</p> + +<p> +When she was alone, some of the quiet went out of Lorraine’s face and a +restless look of pain crept in. She shaded her eyes and gazed long at the +river. +</p> + +<p> +That old spirit of recklessness, which had caused her to hurl scorn and +defiance at Mrs. Hermon’s emissary, and afterwards allow Alymer to visit +her at the little fishing-village, against his wiser judgment, had passed away +now, and given place to one of poignant questioning—a spirit of +questioning concerning that mad action of hers, and its results. She could not +find it in her heart to regret it, not for one moment; but nevertheless her +mind was sore troubled concerning the future for Alymer and herself. +</p> + +<p> +And at the back of all the questioning there sounded ever an insistent call to +renounce—something above and beyond all desire and all seeming, which +told her she must not remain in his life, that, as far as she was concerned, he +must be free for the great work of his future. +</p> + +<p> +And yet how hard it was to go! Ever and anon her longing whispered, “Why +seek a crisis yet? Why not go on the same a little longer?” +</p> + +<p> +But since, before long, she would be compelled to go, and since the nausea of +London was gaining upon her, she began to feel it would certainly be wiser to +start at once, and find some homely, quiet spot where she could remain in +privacy, with her identity unknown for some months. +</p> + +<p> +And always that quiet voice in the background insisted that she must cut +herself off from Alymer Hermon. +</p> + +<p> +Soon after Hal had left her he came in, and, standing as usual upon the hearth, +regarded her with grave eyes. He was nearly always grave now, as with some +recollection that weighed heavily on his mind. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine tried to rally him, but without much success; and a pitiless thought +that had sometimes assailed her of late—that he regretted their +friendship and everything connected with it, struck icily on her heart. +</p> + +<p> +He was too loyal to show it, and yet, that strong instinct of womanhood, which +reads closed books as if they were spread open to the light, sounded its +warning note. He would never blame her openly, but in his heart he was already +beginning to find it a little difficult not to do so secretly. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t go away alone, Lorry,” he said unhappily, +“and I can’t possibly come with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you can’t,” cheerfully. “It isn’t to +be thought of for a moment. I don’t know whether you can even come and +see me. You certainly mustn’t run any risks just now. Flip tells me Hall +is interested, and you may get your big chance shortly through him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, I shall feel rather a beast.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mustn’t do anything so silly.” +</p> + +<p> +She got up and came and stood near him, leaning her face against his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“If you will write to me often, dearie, I shall be all right. If you +worry I shall be miserable. Try to understand that you have done nothing to +make me unhappy. A little while ago I had a dream of how I longed to go away +with a little one of my own, to some quiet spot far removed from all I have +ever known. If I am to realise my dream, how should I not be happy? It is what +I asked life to give me.” +</p> + +<p> +But his eyes lost none of their gravity. It was evident, in the midst of his +dawning success, some cloud had descended upon his horizon, and shrouded much +of the sunlight. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine’s sensitive temperament read it quickly, and she decided, for +his sake, to hasten her departure. She thought her continued presence in London +under the circumstances was a continual anxiety to him, and that he would only +breathe freely when she was safe in Brittany. +</p> + +<p> +She did not know—how should she—that after that week’s +madness on the southern coast there had come rather a terrible revelation to +the man whom fortune seemed to be smothering with favours. +</p> + +<p> +It had not come all at once. It had been there, or at any rate the gist of it, +for some time. But when it was present in full force, it had the power to make +all the adulation, triumph, and hopefulness of his career seem but a small +thing and of little account, because of one great desire beyond his reach. +</p> + +<p> +It came definitely into being during those many evenings Hal spent at the +Cromwell Road flat, when Dudley was away in Holloway with his friend. +</p> + +<p> +It reached a climax of realisation when she openly wore the watch and chain Sir +Edwin had sent to her. The night he asked her not to wear it, and she tautingly +refused, saw him, with all his success and favours, one of the most perplexed +and unhappy men in London. +</p> + +<p> +It was just the waywardness of the little god Love. The fair débutantes with +money and influence had left him untouched. No older woman but Lorraine had +disturbed his peace, or appealed to his deepest affections. +</p> + +<p> +It was left to Hal, the mocker, the outspoken, the impatient of giant inches +and splendid head, to awaken his heart to all its richness of strong, enduring +love. +</p> + +<p> +And what did it mean to her? +</p> + +<p> +The sunshine and the joy might go out of all he was winning and achieving, if +it might not be won and achieved for her—but what did she care—what +was she ever likely to care? +</p> + +<p> +Had she not always dealt him laughter and careless scorn where other women +bowed down? Had she not, over and over, weighed him in the balance, in that +quiet, direct way of hers, and seen the weak strain that had always been there? +First the lack of purpose, the idle indifference, which, in a different guise, +had led up to a memory which now tortured his mind—the memory of a mad +week; of love that was not love, because his whole soul was not given with +it—nay, worse, was actually given in unconsciousness elsewhere. If she +ever knew of that, what must her indignation and scorn be then?… Would it not +indeed separate them for ever? +</p> + +<p> +And even if it did, could it make him unlove her?… Why should it, since he had +waited no encouragement before he gave her all? If he knew why he loved her, it +might. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not even know that. It was a thing outside questioning; something he +seemed to have had no free will about. It was just there—a strong, +undeniable fact. +</p> + +<p> +Why reason? It did not <i>need</i> reasoning. He loved her. He would always +love her—simply because she was Hal—and as Hal, to him, was the one +woman who filled his heart. +</p> + +<p> +No; Lorraine did not know just what fire of repentance and self-condemnation +and hopeless aching her recklessness had lit for him; but it was enough that +his gravity grew and deepened, and she believed she could lighten it. +</p> + +<p> +She made immediate plans; cancelled her present engagement at considerable +monetary loss to herself, and almost before any of them realised it, had +vanished to a little out-of-the-way spot in Brittany, alone with Jean. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was quite unhappy that she could not go to her for her own summer holiday, +but Dick Bruce’s people were taking her to Norway with them, and she +would not have a day to spare. +</p> + +<p> +She made Alymer promise to run across and see how she was, if possible, and +then departed without any suspicions or forebodings, with Dudley and Dick to +join the rest of the party at Hull, whence they were to start for the Fiords. +</p> + +<p> +When she returned early in September, Lorraine was still away, and her letters +gave no hint of returning. Still a little anxious, she sought an interview with +Alymer, asking him to meet her for tea the following day. +</p> + +<p> +The instant they met, Hal saw the change in him, and exclaimed in surprise: +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you had a holiday? You don’t look very grand.” +</p> + +<p> +Unable to meet her eyes, he turned away towards a small table. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes, I’ve had a holiday. I’ve been in France studying the +language. I can talk like a French froggy now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then of course, you saw Lorraine?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wanted to see you about Lorry,” with direct, straight gaze. +</p> + +<p> +He steadied his features with an effort. +</p> + +<p> +“I guessed so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what is the matter with her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing very much. She got thoroughly low I think, and is not pulling up +very quickly.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand it,” with puzzled, doubtful eyes. +“Lorry is not like that. She is quite strong really. She has only once +before gone under like this, and then it was a mental strain. I wonder if it is +anything the same again? Did you see much of her?” +</p> + +<p> +“I saw her four or five times.” +</p> + +<p> +“And she didn’t tell you anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“Anything about what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—about her husband, for instance. He isn’t worrying her +again, is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“She did not speak of him at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what is it?… I wish she had not gone so far away. I wish I could +get to her. Did she say when she might be coming back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at present. She likes being there. She does not want to come +back.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I can’t understand. Something odd seems to have +changed her. Have you thought so.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t think it odd in Lorraine to fancy a long spell of country +life. She was always loved the country.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not alone,” with decision, “except for a good reason. I feel +there is a reason now, and I do not know it.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly she gave him another direct look. +</p> + +<p> +“You are changed too. You are years older. Is it your advancing success, +or what? … I don’t say it isn’t becoming,” with a dash of her +old banter—“but it seems sudden.” +</p> + +<p> +He raised his eyes slowly and looked into her face with an expression that in +some way hurt her. It was the look of a devoted dog, craving forgiveness. +</p> + +<p> +She pushed her cup away impatiently, half laughing and half serious. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t look at me like that, Baby,” striving blindly to rally +him—“you make me feel as if I had smacked you.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed to reassure her, and changed the subject to Norway, trying to keep +her mind from further questioning concerning himself and Lorraine. +</p> + +<p> +After tea she left him to go down to Shoreditch with Dick, first meeting him +and the forlorn “G” at the Cheshire Cheese for their usual high +tea. +</p> + +<p> +It had become quite an institution now that “G” should join them, +and, as Hal had predicted, she and Dick were firm friends. It was the brightest +spot of the music-teacher’s life since Basil Hayward died, and neither of +them would have disappointed her for the world if they could help it. +</p> + +<p> +Tonight Quin was there also, so Hal was able to get a few words privately with +Dick. +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world is the matter with Alymer?” she asked. “I +had tea with him this afternoon. He seems awfully down on his luck.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what it is,” Dick answered. “He is +certainly not very gay—yet that last case he won before the Law Courts +closed should have put him in fine feather for the whole vacation. Did you ask +him if anything was wrong?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; but he would only prevaricate. He has been in France, you know, +studying the language, and he saw Lorraine, but he says very little about her. +I wish I had time to go over and see her. Why, in the name of goodness, is she +not acting this winter?” +</p> + +<p> +But Dick could not help her to any solution, and an accumulation of work kept +her too busy to brood on the puzzle. +</p> + +<p> +It was at the end of October the shock came. +</p> + +<p> +Hal reached home before Dudley that evening, and found a foreign letter +awaiting her, written in an unfamiliar handwriting, and bearing the post mark +of the little village where Lorraine so obstinately remained. With an instant +sense of apprehension, she tore open the envelope, and read its contents with +incredulity, amazement, and anxiety struggling together in her face. +</p> + +<p> +Then she sat down in the nearest chair with a gasp, and stared blankly at the +window, as if she could not grasp the import of the bewildering news. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was from Jean, partly in French, and partly in English. It informed +Hal, in somewhat ambiguous phrases, that La Chère Madame was very ill, and +daily growing weaker, and she, Jean, was very worried and unhappy about her. +She thought if mademoiselle could possibly get away, she should come at once. +It then went on to make a statement which took Hal’s breath away. +</p> + +<p> +“L’enfant!... l’enfant!...” she repeated in a gasping +sort of undertone, and stared with bewildered eyes at the window. +</p> + +<p> +What could have happened?... What did it all mean? +</p> + +<p> +Then with a rush all the full significance seemed to come to her. Lorraine, ill +and alone in that little far-away village, and this incomprehensible thing +coming upon her; no one but a paid, though devoted maid to take care of her; no +friend to help her in the inevitable hours of dread, and perhaps painful +memories and apprehensions. +</p> + +<p> +All her quick, warm-hearted sympathy welled up and filled her soul. Of course +she must go at once, tonight if possible, or early tomorrow. +</p> + +<p> +Yet as she struggled to collect her thoughts and form plans, she was conscious +of a dumb, nervous cry: “What will Dudley say?... What in the world will +Dudley say?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap41"></a>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + +<p> +He came in while she was still trying to compose herself for the struggle she +anticipated; and because she had not yet made any headway, he saw at once that +something alarming had happened. +</p> + +<p> +He glanced at the envelope lying on the table, then at the open letter in her +hand, and then at her face. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?... Have you had bad news?” +</p> + +<p> +For one dreadful moment, observing the foreign stamp, he thought something +might have happened to Ethel, who was taking her month’s holiday on the +Continent. When Hal looked blankly into his face, as if quite unable to tell +him, he added hurriedly: +</p> + +<p> +“Is your letter about Ethel?... Is she ill?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, it is not Ethel,” Hal answered, noticing, in spite of her +distress, his unconcealed anxiety. “Some one is ill, but it is not +Ethel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it Lorraine?” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with quiet, kindly concern now, being reassured concerning the swift +dread that had sized him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” Hal said nervously. “She is very ill. Dudley, I must +go to her at once.” +</p> + +<p> +She got up as if she could not bear the strain seated, and moved away to the +window. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all rather terrible,” speaking hurriedly; “but +don’t... don’t... be upset about it. I can’t bear it. I +<i>must</i> go, whatever you say, and I want you to help me.” +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” He came close to her and tried to see her +face. “What has happened, Hal?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lorry is in trouble.” She was half crying now; “I have had a +letter from Jean. She has told me something I did not know. I did not even +suspect it. But I must go. You will surely see that I must go, Dudley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me what it is,” he said, in a voice so kind, she turned and +looked into his face, almost in surprise. He met her eyes, and, reading all the +distress there, he added: +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be afraid, Hal. I know I was an awful prig a little while +ago, but... but... it’s not the same since Doris jilted me, and since +Basil died. I see many things differently now. Tell me Lorraine’s +trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is so ill, because if she lives until next December she will have a +little one. Oh, do you understand, Dudley? She is there all alone, because she +made a mess of her life and is obliged to hide. I must go to her. You will help +me, won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +She glanced at him doubtfully, and then a swift relief seemed to fill her face. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, certainly you must go,” he said gravely; “if Jean says +she is ill now, I think you should go at once, and see for yourself just how +things are.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, how good of you. I was afraid you would be angry and object.” +</p> + +<p> +He smiled a little sadly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve enough money in hand for your ticket. You can catch the early +boat train, and I’ll send some more by tomorrow’s post. Had you +better see Mr. Elliott about being absent from the office for a day or two, or +shall I see him in the morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“He won’t mind. I’ve got everything straight since I came +back, and Miss White will do my work for a day or two. If you would see him in +the morning, and just tell him Miss Vivian is very ill and I was sent for. He +knows what friends we are, and would understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. Now you must have some dinner, and get to bed, for you will +have a long, anxious day tomorrow.” +</p> + +<p> +In a sudden rush of feeling, she put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so grateful,” she said, in a quivering voice. “I +can’t tell you. It has all come upon me as a shock. I had not the +faintest suspicion.” +</p> + +<p> +It was not natural to him to be demonstrative, and he only turned away with a +slight embarrassment, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you hadn’t. But I feel I can trust you now, Hal, to +be discreet as well as quixotic. Your mission, if one can call it such, will +need both.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he sought to distract her mind for the present, and while they dined he +talked of many things to interest her. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know that Alymer Hermon has just got the chance of his +life?” he told her, before they rose. “I heard today he is to +appear with Hall in this big libel case. Sir James Jameson told me at the Club. +He said Hall had taken a great fancy to him, and if he does really well over +this case he’s going to take him up. He is very fortunate. Not one man in +a thousand would get such a chance at his age. I hope he will do well; I like +him; and if he isn’t a success over this he may never get such an +opportunity again.” +</p> + +<p> +“When does the case come on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Almost at once, I think, but it probably will not last more than two or +three days.” +</p> + +<p> +When Hal said good-night to him, she remarked shyly: +</p> + +<p> +“I heard from Ethel last night. She loves the Austrian Tyrol. She said +she hoped you were better for your trip to Norway.” +</p> + +<p> +His forehead contracted a little, and he did not look up from the book he had +just opened. +</p> + +<p> +“Is she better herself? Is she any happier?” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked thoughtfully into the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“I think she is very lonely. I don’t think she will be much happier +until... until... there is some one to take Basil’s place.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one can do that.” He spoke a little shortly. “Basil was a +hero. I do not know how she is ever to love a lesser man.” +</p> + +<p> +“If she loved a man, she would easily see heroic qualities in him. She +could not love a man who was without them; but that does not mean he need +actually be a hero by any means.” +</p> + +<p> +She longed to say more, but was diffident of doing greater harm than good. At +last she ventured: +</p> + +<p> +“I have sometimes thought she has a warm corner in her heart for you, +Dudley.” +</p> + +<p> +“For me!...” He gave a low, harsh laugh for very misery. +“No; she despises me. She has done for some time. I’m sorry. +I’d change it if I could, but it’s too late now.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal moved towards the door. +</p> + +<p> +“It is rather a slur on Ethel to suggest that she could possibly despise +Basil’s best friend. Don’t let an idea like that take root, Dudley. +‘Lookers on see most of the game,’ you know, and what I have seen +has suggested quite differently. Good-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night. Try to sleep. I’ll take you to Charing Cross +myself.” +</p> + +<p> +The next morning Hal started off alone, to find her way to Lorraine’s +hiding-place, and give her what comfort of friendship she could. +</p> + +<p> +And all the time she asked herself with harried thoughts, “Who has +brought this trouble into Lorraine’s life?” +</p> + +<p> +And at the back of her mind was the dread premonition “Was it indeed +Alymer Hermon?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap42"></a>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + +<p> +When Hal first saw her old friend she was almost too shocked for words at the +swift change in her. Lorraine tried hard to smile cheerfully, but she could not +hide any longer from herself how seriously ill she had grown, and she felt it +useless to try and hide it from Hal. +</p> + +<p> +Jean had not told her of the letter, and she knew nothing of Hal’s coming +until she was actually in the house. When she saw her, she could have cried for +gladness. +</p> + +<p> +“How good of you, Hal… how good of you!” she breathed, and Hal, on +her knees by the couch, in an unsteady voice replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, why didn’t you send for me sooner? Why didn’t you let me +come here instead of going to Norway?” +</p> + +<p> +An hour later she went out to the little post office, and wired to London to +know if she might remain away for a week. +</p> + +<p> +It was evident Lorraine was very ill indeed and needing the utmost care. +</p> + +<p> +During the day she seemed to grow steadily worse, and she could not bear Hal +out of her sight. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know whether you are shocked or not,” she said to +her once, “but if everything goes all right I shall not regret what I +have done for one moment. I wanted something more real for the rest of my life +than I have had in its beginning.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. +“I wanted his child to live for.” +</p> + +<p> +With a caressing hand on the sick woman’s, Hal asked in a low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Why isn’t he here taking care of you now? Where is your +child’s father?” +</p> + +<p> +A swift surprise passed through Lorraine’s eyes, as if it had not occured +to her Hal would not know the truth. Then she said, very softly, +“Alymer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +The exclamation seemed wrung from Hal unconsciously, and after it her lips grew +strangely rigid. +</p> + +<p> +“Hal,” Lorraine said weakly, “I’ve loved Alymer almost +ever since I first saw him. I swore I would not harm his career, and I have +not. I will not in future. But the child is his, and I thank God for it. I do +not believe an illegitimate child with a devoted mother is any worse off than +the legitimate child with a selfish, unloving one. That there is love enough +matters the most. What can any child have better than a life’s +devotion?” +</p> + +<p> +Later on she said: +</p> + +<p> +“This is his great week, Hal. In his last letter he tells me his big +chance has come at last through Sir Philip Hall. We always hoped it would. It +is the big libel case, and if Sir Philip chooses he can let him take a very +prominent part. He will, I am sure of it. He is very interested in him, and he +has given him this chance on purpose. Flip thinks it will lead to a great deal; +and of course if so it is splendid for him.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal said very little. She was overcome at the revelation Lorraine had made, and +seemed quite unable to grasp it. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile she waited fearfully for the crisis the doctor had told her was +impending. She was expecting him to call again, and was relieved when at last +he arrived bringing a pleasant-faced French nurse with him. +</p> + +<p> +She relinquished her post then, and waited for him anxiously downstairs. When +he came he told her he must have another opinion at once, and Hal knew that +something serious was wrong, and that he feared the worst. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning, when she saw Lorraine again, she understood that they had +saved her life, but probably only for a few days at the most. +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine was almost too weak to speak, but she looked into Hal’s eyes, +and in her own there was a dumb imploring. Hal leant down and murmured: +</p> + +<p> +“What is it, Lorry?… Do you want Alymer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the faint whisper. “I feel it is the end. I want +so much to see him once more.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will go to London myself, and fetch him,” Hal said, and a look +of rest crept into the dying woman’s eyes. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +So it happened that the day before the great libel case Hal stood in +Hermon’s chambers, and delivered her message. +</p> + +<p> +It was a tense moment—a moment of warring instincts, warring +inclinations, conflicting fates. It was surely the very irony of ironies, that +within sight of his goal, with all this woman had manoeuvred to give him almost +in his hands, she should be the one to step suddenly between him and the +realisation of everything his life had striven for. +</p> + +<p> +To fail Sir Philip Hall at the eleventh hour, under such circumstance, could +only mean an irreparable disaster. He would lose, as far as his profession was +concerned, in every single way. It would strike a blow at his progress, from +which it might never wholly recover. +</p> + +<p> +No wonder, confronted with the sudden demand life had flung at him, he stood +stock still, with rigid face, almost overcome by the swift sword-thrust of +fate, and made no reply. +</p> + +<p> +Since Hal told him, in a few, rather abrupt words, her story, he had scarcely +looked at her. When she first entered his room so unexpectedly, his eyes had +searched her face as if he would read instantly what she had come for?… what +she had learnt?… Before hers, his gaze fell. +</p> + +<p> +“I have come from Lorraine,” she said, and he understood that she +knew all. +</p> + +<p> +A dull red crept over his face and neck, and then died away, leaving him of an +ashy paleness. He was standing by his desk, and he reached out one hand and +rested it on some books, gripping the backs of them with a grip that made his +knuckles stand out like white knots. He did not ask Hal to sit down. +Commonplace amenities died in the stress of the moment. +</p> + +<p> +She stood in the middle of the room, very straight and very still. In a +close-fitting travelling-dress she looked unusually slim, almost boyish, and +something about her attitude rather suggested a youthful knight, sword in hand, +come with vengeance to the Transgressor. Yet, even in his shame and stunned +perplexity, Hermon lost no shred of dignity. +</p> + +<p> +He towered above her, with bend head, rigid, white face, grave, downcast eyes, +and in spite of every reproach her attitude seemed to hurl at him, he yet wore +the look of nobility that was his birthright. +</p> + +<p> +“When do you think I should go?” he asked at last, with difficulty. +</p> + +<p> +“We ought to cross tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tonight!—I—I—have a very important case tomorrow. It +will not last long. It matters a great deal.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” was the short, uncompromising answer. +</p> + +<p> +He looked up with a swift glance of inquiry. Then he said quietly: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know that it may wreck my future to leave London tonight?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Hal. “I know.” +</p> + +<p> +“And after all Lorraine did not help me to this hour of success, am I to +throw away my chance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine is dying. Her dying wish is to see you once more. Is it +necessary to discuss anything else?” +</p> + +<p> +Again there was silence between them—silence so intense, so poignant, it +was like a live thing present in the room. Through the double windows came a +far-off, muffled sound of the traffic in the Strand, but it seemed to have +nothing whatever to do with the life of that quiet room. It did not disturb the +silence, in which one could almost hear pulse beats. It belonged to another +world. +</p> + +<p> +Once Alymer raised his head and looked hard into her face. In his eyes there +was an expression of utter hopelessness. She had not spoken any word of +reproach or scorn, yet everything about her as she stood there erect and +passionless, and without one grain of sympathy for his struggle, told him that, +just as far as her natural broadness allowed her to condemn any one, she +condemned him. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment a sort of savage recklessness seized him. He felt suddenly he was +stranded high-and-dry on a barren rock, with nothing at all any more in his +world but his profession. He had lost all hope of ever winning Hal, which +seemed to be all hope of anything worth having. Nothing remained but the hollow +interest of a great name, and the lust of power. He had it in his mind for +those brief, passionate moments, because he had lost all else, to insist upon +taking his chance. +</p> + +<p> +Even one day’s grace might save him. The trial would perhaps last not +more than two, but in any case, a wire reaching him in the middle, which he +could show to Sir Philip, might mean all the difference between success and +failure. The wire could be worded to hide what was truly involved, and the plea +of a life-and-death urgency would set him free without any awkward questioning. +</p> + +<p> +He glanced up to speak, and once again Hal’s attitude arrested him. She +looked so young, so fresh, so true, so vaguely splendid, in spite of the rigid +lips that seemed to have closed down tightly upon all she must have suffered in +the last forty-eight hours. +</p> + +<p> +She was not looking at him now, but, with her head thrown back a little, she +gazed silently and fatefully at the clock on his mantelpiece. +</p> + +<p> +And something about her called to him, with the calling of the great, +mysterious things, a calling that shamed and scorned that spirit of savage +recklessness; that swift, relentless lust of power. +</p> + +<p> +“What is anything in the world,” it seemed to cry, “compared +to being true to one’s friend; true to one’s word; true to +one’s love?” +</p> + +<p> +He saw suddenly that in any case success and triumph would bring him little +enough to gladden his heart; that whichever way he turned was gloom and +darkness; that in that gloom a possible ray of light might still linger, if he +could keep always the consciousness that, at the most critical hour of his +life, he had rung true. +</p> + +<p> +He raised his eyes suddenly, and straightened himself. +</p> + +<p> +“What time does the next train leave?” he said. “I am +coming.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap43"></a>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + +<p> +After Hal had left, Lorraine sank into a stupor from weakness, and remained +thus until towards evening. Then she revived, and seemed to comprehend better +all that had happened; all that was happening still. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that the child she had dreamed of would never lie in her arms and look +up at her with Alymer’s eyes. She knew that in the first awful moments of +realisation, and deathly weakness, her whole soul had so craved to see Alymer +again that she had asked for him. +</p> + +<p> +A few moments later the stupor had come down upon her exhausted senses, and +without any further word or thought from her, Hal had gone on her errand. +</p> + +<p> +At first, in the darkened room where she had suffered so much, she remembered +only that very soon Alymer might be with her. And the thought, while it +quickened her pulses, yet made her feel almost faint with the longing for him +to come quickly. What if they were delayed, and this terrible weakness took her +away from him without a last meeting. +</p> + +<p> +The thought that death was approaching did not frighten her. She rather +welcomed it. When she left London in the summer, she had felt that she could +never go back. She had already fixed in her mind the picture of the quiet +haven, where she would live restfully with Alymer’s child—far away +from the turmoil that had marked her life almost from its earliest beginning, +and safe from slander. +</p> + +<p> +She did not mind for herself. The things that most women valued, no longer held +much meaning for her. She had experienced more than most; learned more than +most how empty success and triumph may become; sounded for herself the +shallowness of many things that society regards as prizes. +</p> + +<p> +She had been tired for a long time. Now the tiredness had reached a climax. If +the quiet haven might not bless her life, it was, on the whole, better that she +should die. +</p> + +<p> +This quiet fatalism only increased her longing to see Alymer once more. It was +the one thing in all existence left to long for. It merged every remaining +faculty into one desire. And Hal would bring him. Hal never failed any one. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the night, and instead of a quiet sleep, restlessness seized her. The +recollection of the lawsuit which was to make Alymer’s name once for all, +came back again and again with merciless insistence, fighting like some +desperate thing that last, one, great desire. Try as she would to smother it, +after a little period of rest it came back stronger than ever. +</p> + +<p> +In vain she told herself that when he knew she was dying he would have no wish +but to hasten to her. In vain, she said also, that success would no longer mean +all it had done; that with love crying to him from a death-bed, he would +understand its emptiness and scorn it. +</p> + +<p> +Another voice, the voice of her truest self, answered: “Ah! but he is +young. Remember he is young—young—young—and you, when you +were his age, cared terribly to succeed. You say now that success is empty, but +at least you had the satisfaction of learning the fact for yourself. You did +not have to take another’s word for it, and let your chance pass you by, +just at the moment of grasping it. If he is to be left without you, what will +he have then to make up for the great moment lost? +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, worse—what will he have left to spur him to try and regain +his proud position, and go on up the heights of fame? And for you, of all +people, to deal this blow to his future—the ambitious future which you +yourself have fostered and nourished with such care.” +</p> + +<p> +The hours wore on, and still, in spite of the awful physical exhaustion, the +mental battle raged, draining away strength that should have been carefully +nursed for each bad hour of many days ahead. The nurse watched beside her with +growing alarm, seeing the feverishness and restlessness, where absolute quiet +was imperative. +</p> + +<p> +At last she went to her softly, and said, in a sweet, low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Madame is in trouble. Madame is fretting. It is not good. Madame must +try to rest.” +</p> + +<p> +Lorraine turned her feverish, pain-driven eyes to the kindly face, with a look +of beseeching, but she made no reply. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse laid her cool hand on the burning forehead. +</p> + +<p> +“Madame is not a Catholic, but the priest brings healing to all. Shall I +ask him to come and pray, that peace may be given to the sick mind?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot confess,” Lorraine breathed a little gaspingly. “I +could not bring myself to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is not necessary. The priest will come to pray if madame +wishes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” was the low response; “please ask him.” +</p> + +<p> +The little old man who took care of the souls of the little old-world village, +and had done for three parts of a century, came to her at once, with a womanly +tenderness in his face. In a low voice he blessed her, and then knelt down and +prayed quietly. +</p> + +<p> +After a time, some of the anguish died out of Lorraine’s eyes. She turned +to him weakly and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I am not a Catholic. I do not know if I am anything, but I want to ask +you something. If one has sinned, and led another astray, might an act of +renunciation perhaps save that other from the consequences of the sin that was +not his?” +</p> + +<p> +“Self-sacrifice and renunciation are ever pleasing to God,” he told +her simply. “He knows that whatever else there is in a heart, with +self-sacrifice there is also purity and nobility.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I thought I alone need bear the consequences, I think I could do +anything,” she whispered—“bear anything, renounce +anything.” +</p> + +<p> +Again the quiet soothing of a prayer fell on her ears. She listened, and heard +the old priest praying God and the Holy Virgin to help her to find the courage +for the sacrifice her heart called for, that if she were about to enter the +presence of the Most High, she might take with her the cleansing of repentance +and a self-sacrificing spirit. +</p> + +<p> +She lay still for some little time listening to the soft cadence of his voice, +and then she opened her eyes and looked at him with a full, sweet look. +</p> + +<p> +“I will do it, Father,” she said to him. “Perhaps, if God +understands everything, He will let my anguish of renunciation absolve that +other from all sin. It is the most I have to ask of all the powers in heaven +and earth.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Holy Mother comfort you, my child,” he said; and with an +earnest benediction left her. +</p> + +<p> +Then Lorraine motioned to the French nurse that she wanted her, and gathering +all her remaining strength asked for a telegraph form and pencil. The nurse +supported her in her arms, while with a trembling hand she traced faintly the +words of her message. It ran: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Marked change for the better. No need for haste. Come in a few +days.—L<small>ORRAINE</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +It was addressed to Alymer Hermon, at The Middle Temple. +</p> + +<p> +“Please take it now at once,” she said. She knew that the +Frenchwoman could not read English, and that Jean was not yet awake. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap44"></a>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + +<p> +In Alymer’s room at the Middle Temple he and Hal were making their +arrangements to catch the next boat. +</p> + +<p> +The moment he had spoken his decision she had turned to him with a swift +expression of approval, but, for the rest, her manner was somewhat curt and +business-like, and showed little of the old friendliness. +</p> + +<p> +It made him feel that, as far as she was concerned, he had sinned past +forgiveness; and he knew with that unerring instinct that sometimes illumines a +wrong action, that she judged him harshly because she knew he had not loved +Lorraine with all his strength. How then could he ever hope to tell her that +one reason he had not loved Lorraine thus was because, unconsciously, another +woman had won his heart; further, that that other woman was herself? +</p> + +<p> +No; of course the day would never dawn when he would dare to tell her that. An +eternity separated them. +</p> + +<p> +But he tried not to think of it now; to remember only that Lorraine, his best +friend and his benefactress, was dying, and that she had sent Hal to fetch him +to her side. +</p> + +<p> +His face was very grave, and he looked white and ill as Hal explained what time +he must meet her at the station, but he gave no sign of flinching; no triumph +in the world could now weaken his resolution. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, that is all arranged,” said Hal, and at that moment +there was a knock at the door. Alymer crossed the room and opened it himself, +and was handed a telegram. He read it, looked for a moment as if he could not +grasp it, then, telling the bearer there was no reply, closed the door, went +back to Hal, and handed it to her without a word. +</p> + +<p> +Hal read, half aloud: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Marked change for the better. No need for haste. Come in a few +days.—L<small>ORRAINE</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +For some moments there was only silence, and then she looked at him with +troubled, perplexed eyes, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t quite know what to make of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doesn’t it mean that she has passed some crisis and will +live?” he suggested. “I think it must.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal still looked doubtful; and at that moment there was another knock at the +door. +</p> + +<p> +Again Alymer opened it himself. “Lord Denton particularly wishes to see +you,” he was told. +</p> + +<p> +“Show him in at once,” he replied, and turned to tell Hal who was +coming. +</p> + +<p> +Flip Denton had come to inquire for more detailed news of Lorraine than he +could get from her letters. He gathered from them that she was remaining away +for the whole winter theatrical season, because her health was bad; but any +suggestion on his part to run over to Brittany and see her was persistently +negatived. Finally he had come to Alymer. +</p> + +<p> +The moment he saw them he knew that something serious was wrong, and that it +concerned Lorraine. But when, after learning she was very ill, he asked Hal +what was the matter, and saw the scarlet blood flame into her face, he said no +more. +</p> + +<p> +“I was with her yesterday,” she told him, “and the doctor +said he feared she would not live many days. She wanted Alymer, and I came over +to fetch him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you are going at once?” Denton asked him, with a curious +expression in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I have arranged to.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doesn’t your great case come on this afternoon, or tomorrow +morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +Denton’s grave face did not change. “I see,” he said, and +turned a little aside. +</p> + +<p> +Then Hal, who had the telegram in her hand, held it out to him. +</p> + +<p> +“This has just come.” +</p> + +<p> +He read it, and his face cleared joyously. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, that is splendid news—don’t you think so?” And he +regarded Hal with a slightly puzzled air. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know what to think,” Hal said. “Yesterday she was +very ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but you had to leave early,” reassuringly, “and she may +have been gaining strength all the afternoon, and had a very good night. What +are you going to do?” looking at Alymer. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer looked at Hal, and waited for her decision. +</p> + +<p> +Hal only looked doubtful and troubled. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you should stay for the lawsuit,” Denton said, to help +her. “It is evident that Lorraine wished it, and she of all people would +not have Hermon miss such a chance if possible. I understood Hall it was only +likely to last two or three days. He has some clinching evidence, I +think.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is so,” Alymer answered gravely; but he still waited to take +his cue from Hal. +</p> + +<p> +“You think he should stay for it?” Hal asked Lord Denton. +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly think that is what Lorraine would wish him to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal commenced to pull on her gloves as if there were no more to say, and then +Denton asked her: +</p> + +<p> +“Will you wait too?” +</p> + +<p> +“No; I am going back by the next boat.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will come with you.” +</p> + +<p> +She glanced at him with slight alarm, and then at Alymer. Denton saw the look +and seemed surprised. Hal’s eyes asked Alymer what they were to do. He +spoke with an effort. +</p> + +<p> +“I expect Miss Vivian would be glad to see so old and great a friend as +Lord Denton.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course she would,” he said decidedly—and to Hal: +</p> + +<p> +“What time do we leave Charing Cross?” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Hal spoke very little on the journey. A nameless dread weighed on her spirit, +and a haunting fear for Lorraine. She was oppressed by a sense of deep sadness +for the brilliant, succesful woman she had loved since her school days, who was +now, after all her triumphs, alone in that little foreign village, caught in a +maze of tangles and perplexities which offered no peaceful solution. +</p> + +<p> +She could not understand Alymer’s part at all, but she was convinced +Lorraine’s absorbing devotion to him was not reciprocated in like manner. +If Lorraine learnt this as soon as she recovered, what did the future hold for +her again but more vain dreams, and bitter hopes that could never see +fulfilment? +</p> + +<p> +She felt a little pitifully that life was very hard and difficult, even when +one had a fine courage and will to face it; and a leaden pall of sorrow seemed +to fold itself round her. +</p> + +<p> +What of Dudley and his hopeless love? Ethel and her inconsolable grief? Sir +Edwin, and his secret bitterness? the gaunt music-teacher and her barren, +joyless life? +</p> + +<p> +Across her mind passed some lines, that had a strong attraction for her: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“So many gods, so many creeds,<br/> +so many paths that wind and wind,<br/> +And just the art of being kind<br/> +Is all the sad world needs.” +</p> + +<p> +Ah! in truth it was a sad world first of all; a sad, sad world in need of +kindness and comfort. One could but go on trying to be kind, trying to be +strong. +</p> + +<p> +It was the only thing in a life of pitfalls and easily made mistakes, to just +march straight forward—eyes front—and not let anything daunt +permanently. She felt, more profoundly than ever, it was not wise to turn +aside, looking to right and left, questioning overmuch of right and wrong, +probing into the actions of others. +</p> + +<p> +Each human being was as a soldier in a vast army, and all were there under the +same colours, led by the same general, to bear, with what courage they could, +the fortunes of war. Two might be standing together, and one be wounded and the +other untouched; many disabled, and many unhurt; some left on the field to die, +others found and nursed back to life. +</p> + +<p> +But the soldier was not there to question. If a comrade fell, it was no concern +of his how he fell—his concern was to try and help him to safety, then go +back and fight again, undismayed if his place was but a little insignificant +one in the smoke and dust, unseen by any but a near neighbour perhaps as +insignificant as himself. +</p> + +<p> +That was the true spirit of the great soldier, whether he was in the ranks, +lost in the smoke, or whether, on a magnificent charger, he led gloriously for +all the world to see. +</p> + +<p> +She remembered the change in Dudley, which had led him so quickly to respond to +her cry, and refrain from judging. He was seeing things in that light also, +learning to fight his own fight as pluckily as he could, and only to look upon +the warfare of others as one ready to help them if it chanced that he was +able—learning in place of rules and precepts, “just the art of +being kind.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, together perhaps they could help Lorraine—if she came out of this +last encounter bruised and broken. +</p> + +<p> +Then they arrived, and she and Lord Denton hastened down the short road to the +little green-shuttered house. At the sound of the latch on the gate the door +opened quietly, and Jean, with tears streaming down her face, came towards +them, choking back gasping sobs. +</p> + +<p> +Hal stood still a second, and then ran forward blindly with outstretched hands. +</p> + +<p> +“She is better, Jean—say she is better. Oh, she must be, she must; +she wired yesterday to say there was great improveent.” +</p> + +<p> +Jean broke down into helpless weeping as she sobbed out: +</p> + +<p> +“She died this morning at six o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +For one moment Hal seemed too stunned to understand; then she swayed, and fell +heavily into Denton’s arms. +</p> + +<p> +Later when she had recovered, Jean told them of the restless, nerve-racking +night; of the priest’s visit, and of the fast-ebbing strength gathered +together to write some message the nurse had taken to the post office. After +that extreme exhaustion had set in, greatly aggravated by the mental stress, +and they could only watch her sinking from hour to hour. +</p> + +<p> +“She only roused once more,” Jean said, “and that was to try +and write a message for you. I have it there,” and she produced a little +folded note. +</p> + +<p> +In faint, tremulous words Hal read: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Good-bye, darling Hal. It is hard to be without you now, but you will +inderstand why I sent the message. I want to tell you it has never been +Alymer’s fault; do not blame him. I ask it of you. At the last hour I +have made what reparation I could. Don’t grieve for me. I have made so +many mistakes, and now I am too tired to go on. Give my dear, dear love to +Alymer, and say good-bye to Flip and mother. I am not unhappy now—only +very, very tired. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Your own <br/> +“L<small>ORRY</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +For the first time since she had recovered from her faint, Hal broke down, and +Jean and Denton went quietly away, knowing it would be better for her +afterwards, and left her sobbing her heart out over her letter. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later, flying the colours of a great victory, and flushed with the +pleasure of warm congratulations poured upon him from all sides, Alymer Hermon +stepped out upon the little station. +</p> + +<p> +He had never doubted the truth of the message, and he carried his head a little +higher and his shoulders a little squarer, proud and glad to come to Lorraine +with the news of his greatest success, and tell her of the proud position he +had won almost solely through her. For had she not first imbued him with +ambition and the real desire to achieve, and then, at exactly the right moment, +procured him the first little success that meant so much? +</p> + +<p> +The instant he knew the great case was won, he had dashed out of the court, +scribbled her a hurried wire, and driven frantically to Charing Cross, +meditating a special train to Dover, if he were too late. He was not, though +the guard was just about to give the signal for departure, and the boat-train +bore him from the station, full of that glad consciousness of a great +achievement, to carry the news instantly to her feet. +</p> + +<p> +On the little station in Brittany Denton was waiting for him. And when Alymer +saw him the light faded out of his eyes, and the smile from his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“She died before we got there,” Denton told him. “We +daren’t let you know, because she sent that message, on purpose to give +you your chance in the case.” Then, very kindly: “Sit down, old +chap. There’s no hurry. Wait and rest a while here.” +</p> + +<p> +Alymer sat down on the little wooden station bench, and buried his face in his +hands. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap45"></a>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + +<p> +It would seem sometimes that Life has a way of keeping the balance between joy +and pain, by making that which is a source of deepest sorrow to one the +unlooked-for instrument of great joy to another. +</p> + +<p> +It was so with the sorrow that came down like a cloud upon Hal’s spirit, +while she was yet striving bravely not to allow herself to fret over Sir +Edwin’s perfidy. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until after Hermon’s arrival that the announcement of +Lorraine’s death was sent to the papers. After an anxious consultation, +Hal and Denton had decided she would have expressly wished nothing to be done +which might bring the news to Alymer before his case was over, and so, while +making all preparations for the funeral, they refrained from any announcement +in the home papers. Directly he arrived, the notice was dispatched. +</p> + +<p> +Ethel Hayward, returning from her holiday to the dreary, empty Holloway flat, +read it in the train as she journeyed. Instantly her mind was full of Hal. She +felt that in losing the one great woman friend of her life Hal would seem to +have lost mother, sister, and friend in one. +</p> + +<p> +She went home to the emptiness of the flat, with her heart so full of aching +sympathy that some of the bitterness of her own loss was softened. On her +sitting-room table was a beautiful array of flowers. She looked at them with +soft eyes, believing Hal had sent them, and her tenderness made her long to +hold the girl in her arms and try to bring her a little comfort. +</p> + +<p> +After a restless, troubled half-hour, she decided to go to her. She remembered +it was the evening Dudley usually spent at the Imperial Institute, and she +thought it almost certain Hal would be alone. +</p> + +<p> +She dreaded going if Dudley was likely to be there, as the constraint between +them was a misery to her, but she believed he was obliged to be out, +remembering how he had always been engaged on Fridays during his engagement, +and she took her courage in her hands for Hal’s sake, and went to the +Bloomsbury rooms for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +The maid who opened the door was just going out, and being somewhat hurried, +did not trouble to note whether she asked for Mr. Pritchard or Miss Pritchard, +merely standing for her to come in, and then showing her into the sitting-room +without properly announcing her, she hastened away. +</p> + +<p> +So Ethel unexpectedly found herself face to face with Dudley, alone. +</p> + +<p> +He was so astonished, that for a moment he seemed unable to rise, merely gazing +at her with incredulous eyes, as if he thought he must be dreaming. +</p> + +<p> +For the past hour he had sat with a book on his knee, without having read a +line, for all the time his thoughts had been with her. He knew she had returned +that night to her empty, desolate home. He had sent the flowers up himself, to +try and mitigate the emptiness and lack of welcome. +</p> + +<p> +He had longed to go to the station to meet her, if only to look after her +luggage and see her safely into a cab. He hated to think of her arriving alone, +and departing alone to that empty flat. His utter helplessness to do anything +for her, when all his soul ached to do all, tore at his heart, and thrust +mercilessly upon him again and again his blindness and folly in the past. +</p> + +<p> +And then suddenly, in the midst of it, without any warning, she stood there in +the room, looking at him with startled, abashed eyes. +</p> + +<p> +No wonder, with a sense of non-comprehension, joy leapt to his own, +transforming the white, unhappy gravity of his face to swift, questioning +eagerness; while at the same time he breathed tensely, “Ethel!… +you!” +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time he had ever used her Christian name, and in spite of her +confusion she could not fail to hear the ring of gladness, of intense, almost +unbelievable joy. +</p> + +<p> +It sent the blood rushing to her white cheeks, and made her heart beat wildly. +She moved forward a little unsteadily. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw about Miss Vivian’s death today, and I was afraid Hal would +be all alone fretting… so I came to see—” +</p> + +<p> +She broke off. Something like a sudden appeal in his eyes was unnerving her. +</p> + +<p> +Dudley only heard vaguely what she said. +</p> + +<p> +As she came forward he had seen that she was rather overcome; he had seen the +quick scarlet in her face, followed by a striking parlor, and the bewildered +surprise in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +What was it Hal had said that evening before she left? He could not remember, +but he knew it meant that she did not think Ethel indifferent to him as he +believed. +</p> + +<p> +He knew she had meant more, but he had not dared to dwell upon it. +</p> + +<p> +He stood up, but did not move towards her. Instead, he just stood looking, +looking into her eyes. Hers fell, and again the quick colour came and went. +</p> + +<p> +“Hal is not here,” he said simply; “she went to Miss Vivian +last week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I am glad. I was afraid she had not had time. I thought, when I saw +the flowers…” An idea seemed to strike her suddenly. She looked at him, +and her eyes were full of a question she could not ask. “I thought only +Hal knew I should be returning today.” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew,” he said simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you… did you…” she was at a loss to finish. +</p> + +<p> +This hesitating nervousness was new to him. He had never seen her before other +than calmly self-possessed. It called, with swift-calling, to his natural +masculine strength and masculine protectiveness. It enabled him to grow sure of +himself, and strong. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I sent the flowers,” he answered. “I wanted badly to +come to the station to meet you, but I was afraid you might think it an +impertinence.” He came a little nearer. “Sould you have thought +so?” +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to be waiting for an answer, and she said shyly: +</p> + +<p> +“I should have thought it very kind of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am always wanting to do things for you,” he said, “and I +am always afraid I shall only vex you. And I wouldn’t vex you for the +world,” in a low, fervent voice. +</p> + +<p> +Again she gave him a swift, shy, questioning glance, and he grew bolder still. +</p> + +<p> +He came closer, and stood beside her. +</p> + +<p> +“Most of all, I want to tell you that I love you with all my heart and +soul and strength, and, until this moment, I have been afraid that that would +vex you too.” +</p> + +<p> +She raised her eyes then, swimming in sudden tears of gladness. +</p> + +<p> +“But it doesn’t?…” he said eagerly, “you… you… Oh, +Ethel! is it possible you would like me to say it?” +</p> + +<p> +“It has been possible a long time, Dudley, but I did not think it would +ever be said.” +</p> + +<p> +He took her hands in his and kissed first one and then the other. For the +moment he was too overwhelmed at the suddenness of his joy to understand it. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought you despised me,” he breathed. “It did not seem +possible you could do anything else; but Hal said I was wrong.” +</p> + +<p> +She smiled faintly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; Hal knew,” she told him. “I think she has known some +time.” Then she seemed to sway a little. +</p> + +<p> +“You are tired out,” he exclaimed in quick commiseration. +“What a brute I am, letting you stand all this time, after your long +journey too! I have told myself over and over how I would take care of you if I +might, and this is how I begin! Forgive me—.” +</p> + +<p> +He gently pushed her towards his own big chair, and when she had sunk down in +it, fetched a cushion and a footstool. She leaned back wearily, looking up at +him with eyes that were full of deep joy, if not yet emancipated from their +long, long vigil of sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this all true, or am I dreaming? Yesterday—an hour ago—I +thought it could never happen at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“I too.” +</p> + +<p> +He was kneeling on one knee beside her now, holding her hand against his face +for the comfort of it. +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinking of you when you came. I am always thinking of you. My +whole life is like a long thought of you. I was afraid it would never become +any more. Since I grew to know myself better, it has never seemed possible any +one like you could care for such as I.” +</p> + +<p> +She gave him her other hand confidingly. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I have always cared, Dudley. Beside Basil, there has never been +any one else who counted very much at all.” +</p> + +<p> +It was good to be sitting there together by a fireside. So good indeed that it +swept everything away that had stood between them, with swift, generous +sweeping. There had been nothing real in the barrier, scarcely anything that +needed explaining, only the foolish imaginings of two hearts that had become +imbued with wrong impressions. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought I loved Doris,” he told her, still caressing her hand; +“but afterwards it was like a pale fancy to my love for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was terrified lest she should wreck both your lives,” She +answered. “She cared so much for money, and the things money can buy. +Without it, she might have grown bitter and hard and reckless. With it, she wil +grow kinder, I think. She felt Basil’s death very much. She shed the most +genuine tears she has ever shed in her life. Dudley, if Basil had known that +this was coming, it would have been a great comfort to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He did know.” +</p> + +<p> +“He knew!…” in surprise. “How could he?” +</p> + +<p> +“I told him. I saw he was fretting very much about you, and I guessed +what was in his mind. I told him I loved you better than my life; and he said: +‘Thank God, it will all come right some day.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, I am glad that he knew. Dear Basil, dear Basil. If he had been less +splendid, Dudley, I think I should have taken my own life when he died and left +me alone. But in the face of courage like his, one could not be a +coward.” +</p> + +<p> +Later Dudley took her home. At the door he asked her pleadingly: +</p> + +<p> +“May I came in for a moment? I want to see the flat as it looks +now.” +</p> + +<p> +She led the way, and they stood together in the little sitting-room where Basil +had lived and died, and where Dudley’s flowers now shed a fragrance of +welcome. +</p> + +<p> +She buried her face in the delicate petals, with memories, and thoughts, and +feelings too deep for words. +</p> + +<p> +“It feels almost as if his spirit were here with us now,” he said +softly. “He was so sure he was only going to a grander and wider life. I +think he must have been right; and that tonight he <i>knows</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +Tears were in her eyes again. The loss was so recent still—the memory so +painful. He drew her to him, and kissed them away. +</p> + +<p> +“That night, Ethel, that first, terrible night when you were alone, it +nearly killed me to have to go away and leave you, to feel I could not do +anything at all. You must let me comfort you doubly now to make up for it. You +must come to me quickly.” She smiled softly, and he added: “It +would have been Basil’s wish, too. He hated the office as much as I do. +Tell them tomorrow that you’re not coming any more.” +</p> + +<p> +Her smile deepened at his boyishness. +</p> + +<p> +“There are certain hard-and-fast rules to be observed about leaving. +I’m afraid they won’t waive them for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, tell them you are going to be married… You <i>are</i> going to be +married, aren’t you?…” for a moment he was almost like Hal. +“Well, why don’t you answer? I want to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t made up my mind sufficiently yet,” with a low, +happy laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I must make it up for you.” +</p> + +<p> +His manner changed again to one of wondering, absorbing tenderness. Hal had +been right, as usual. Under the man’s surface-narrowness and superiority +was a deep, true heart that had only been waiting the hour of its great +emancipation. He took her in his arms and kissed her again and again. +</p> + +<p> +“Child,” he breathed, “haven’t I waited long enough? +Every hour of the last few months, since I knew, has been like a year. +Don’t make me leave you here alone one moment longer than is +necessary.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +So it happened that when Hal came back to a dreary, empty, joyless London, an +unexpected gladness was waiting for her. +</p> + +<p> +The last few days had almost broken her spirit. The pathos of that lonely, +far-off grave, in the little alien churchyard, where they tenderly left the +remains of the beautiful, brilliant woman who had been so much in her life for +so long, seemed more than she could bear. +</p> + +<p> +They three had stood together, representing her richness in friendship, her +poverty in blood ties. The wire to her mother had only brought the reply from +some one in London that she was travelling in the South of Italy, and could not +possibly arrive in time. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer still seemed almost stunned. He had scarcely spoken since Danton told +him what had happened. At first Hal had declined to see him at all, but in the +end Denton, with his shrewd common sense, had talked her into a kindlier mood. +</p> + +<p> +When they came back from the churchyard she had gone to him in the little +sitting-room, where he sat alone, with bowed head. He stood up when she came +in, but he did not speak. He waited for her to say what she would, with a look +of quiet misery in his eyes that touched her heart. +</p> + +<p> +For the first time she saw how changed he was. There seemed nothing of the old +boyishness left. Only a quiet, grave, deeply suffering man. +</p> + +<p> +She had no conception that she, personally, added every hour and every moment +to that suffering. She did not know he was enduring a bitter sense of having +lost her for ever, as well as the friend and benefactress he had undoubtedly +loved very dearly, if not with the same passionate love that she had known for +him. +</p> + +<p> +But he only stood before her there, very straight and very still, and with that +old, quiet, ineradicable dignity which never failed him. +</p> + +<p> +“Lorraine left a little written message for me,” she said to him. +</p> + +<p> +She paused a moment, and her eyes wandered away out to the little garden, with +its last fading summer beauty yielding already to autumn. And so she did not +see the expression in his fine face when he ventured to look at her. She did +not know that because of his hopeless love, and withal his quiet courage and +quiet pain, at that moment he looked even more splendidly a man than perhaps he +had ever done before. +</p> + +<p> +Had life been kinder, he would have crossed the space between them in one step, +and folded her in such an embrace as would have lost her slim form entirely in +his enfolding bigness. He would have given her a love, and a lover, such as +falls to the lot of but few women. +</p> + +<p> +And she stood there, with her head half turned away; with sad eyes and drooping +lips that went to his heart; her mind full of her dead friend, and scarcely a +glance for him. +</p> + +<p> +“She said I was not to blame you for anything, and she told me to give +you her dear, dear love.” +</p> + +<p> +He winced visibly, but stood his ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” he said, in a very low voice. +</p> + +<p> +Then, with a sudden, longing triumphing over all: +</p> + +<p> +“I prefer to take the blame upon myself, but even then I hope some day +you will find it possible to forgive me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall never forget how much Lorraine loved you,” was all the +poor hope she gave him. +</p> + +<p> +“Will that make it possible for us to remain friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I hope so.” She gave him her hand with an old-fashioned +solemnity. “For Lorraine’s sake,” she said very simply, and +then left him. +</p> + +<p> +He turned with a stifled groan, and, leaning his elbows on the mantelpiece, +buried his face in his hands. +</p> + +<p> +Yet in that painful hour, out of all the tragic mistakes of her life, Lorraine +might have gleaned this gladness. In that hour he was nearer than he had ever +been before to the man she had striven to make him; for, mercifully for all +mankind, there is a “power outside ourselves,” which out of wrong, +and weakness, and pain can bring forth good. +</p> + +<p> +The sad trio returned to London the following day, and Hal wondered forlornly +if Dudley would leave his office early to come and meet her. +</p> + +<p> +When she stepped out on the platform he and Ethel were standing together, +looking for her. Then they saw her, and Ethel came forward first, holding out +both hands, with a subdued light in her face, that made Hal pause and wonder. +</p> + +<p> +“How did you know? It was nice of you to come,” she said, with +another question in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Dudley told me, dear. I have been thinking of you so much.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Dudley stepped up to them, and in his face, too, was this subdued +gladness. +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked from one to the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you?…” she began, and paused uncertainly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, dear”; and Ethel blushed charmingly. “I am going to be +your sister, so I thought you would let me begin at once, and come to meet you, +and try to comfort you a little.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said Hal, drawing a deep breath; “and I thought I was +never going to be glad about anything again.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap46"></a>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> + +<p> +It is necessary to take but a cursory glance at the events that followed. Life +flowed smoothly enough in its way, but it flowed towards higher and greater +achievements for some, and that can only mean a story of obstacles, and +drawbacks and difficulties sturdily overcome. +</p> + +<p> +For the three inmates of the Cromwell Road flat it held many prizes. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer Hermon’s career continued to advance by leaps and bounds. The +“taking up” by Sir Philip Hall became quickly an actual fact, and +he was soon easily first among the juniors. What he lacked in years and +experience his striking presence and personal charm supplied, and his calm +gravity and self-possession went far to counteract his youthful appearance. +</p> + +<p> +Dick Bruce finished his great novel, and though it was not quite the jumble +about vegetables and babies he had prophesied, it was considered the most +original book of the year, and brought him instantaneous recognition and fame. +</p> + +<p> +Quin inherited some money, and built a wonderful East End Club House that is +all his own, and is as the apple of his eye. +</p> + +<p> +If the great solution of life is to find one’s true environment, he has +at any rate found his; and in finding it knows a happiness, even amid the +squalid poverty of Shoreditch, such as is found by few. +</p> + +<p> +In the meantime Hal continued to work and be independent. When Ethel and Dudley +married, they tried hard to persuade her to live with them, but she had already +bespoken a smaller sitting-room with her old landlady, Mrs. Carr, and made up +her mind to live there. +</p> + +<p> +Later, when Dudley began to add to his income, they begged her to give up her +work, but she was obdurate, again expressing certain views on the boon of +steady occupation they could not gainsay. +</p> + +<p> +“It is so boring sometimes,” Ethel remonstrated, and she answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Not so boring as idleness in the long run, and having to make up your +mind each day what you are going to do next. The girls who only enjoy +themselves without work little know what they miss in never waking up in the +morning to say, ‘Hurray! this is a holiday.’ No! give me my work +and my play well balanced, and I’ll turn them into happiness.” +</p> + +<p> +It was months before Alymer dared to speak to her of love. It had taken him +long to win her to the old fooling again; and in a sudden gladness at some +little remark or touch that seemed to show him he was truly forgiven for his +own sake, he told her the story of his love, and his long waiting. +</p> + +<p> +Hal was very taken aback, and a little unhappy, but when she had convinced him +it was really quite hopeless, he forced himself back to the old comradeship, +and took up his self-imposed burden of waiting once more. +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a period of rapid successes, during which Hal told him seriously +he must now make a choice among the bevy of beauty, wealth, and lineage at his +disposal. +</p> + +<p> +“You really ought, you know,” she said, “out of consideration +for all the poor things left hoping against hope, and the numbers that are +yearly added to them!” +</p> + +<p> +“I have made my choice,” he answered; “it is not my fault +about the vain hopes. It is the obstinacy of one woman, who is keeping the +others in the unfortunate condition you describe.” +</p> + +<p> +But she only smiled lightly, and put him off again, concluding with: +</p> + +<p> +“I should be frightened out of my life at possessing anything so +beauteous and attractive in the way of a husband.” +</p> + +<p> +So Hermon worked on, and waited, believing in his star. +</p> + +<p> +Yet there were times when the apparent hopelessness of it weighed heavily on +his mind—times when the very lustre of his success seemed only to mock +him, because of that one thing he craved in vain. +</p> + +<p> +It was so when the greatest achievement of his life came to his hands. +</p> + +<p> +It was given him to plead for a woman’s life against a charge of +poisoning her husband, pitting his youth and slender experience against the +greatest advocate of the Crown. The case caused a great stir, and with a +growing wonderment and pride she hardly dared to account for. Hal followed the +newspaper reports day by day. +</p> + +<p> +The evening before the speech for the defence he came to her. She greeted him +as usual, saying little about his present notoriety, but she noticed that he +looked careworn, as if the strain were becoming too much for him; and then +suddenly he stated his errand. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you to come to the court tomorrow, Hal. I—I—have a +feeling I want you to be there when I am speaking. Will you come?” +</p> + +<p> +She looked up doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you want me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know. I mean to save this woman if I can. She did not give the +poison. I am quite certain of it; but we can’t prove it absolutely. We +can only appeal in such a way to the jury that they will feel the case is not +merely not proven against her, but that she is innocent. I think it would +inspire me more than anything if you were there.” He paused, then added: +“I love you so much, Hal, I feel as if I shall save her life if you are +there.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal looked touched, and agreed to go if he would arrange everything, and +telephone to her what time to arrive. +</p> + +<p> +The next day she went to the court with the card he had given, and found +herself received with the utmost deference, and ushered at once to a seat +reserved for her. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes afterwards Alymer stood up to make his great speech, and then Hal +heard a subdued murmur around her, and saw that the judge was watching him with +some interest and expectancy. +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time she had seen him in his wig and gown, in court, and her +heart began to beat strangely. She felt suddenly and unaccountably incensed +with the women all round, who whispered and gazed. “What was he to them +anyway! How idiotic of them to murmur to each other how splendid he looked! +What did he care for their approval?” +</p> + +<p> +Her heart carried her a little farther. “What is he to you?...” it +asked. She felt a sudden warm glow of pride, and her eyes grew very soft as she +watched him. +</p> + +<p> +Then he began to speak, and it seemed as if everything in heaven and earth has +paused to listen. Surely there was no big thoroughfare with hurrying multitudes +just outside, no continual stream of noisy, hurrying traffic; no busy newspaper +offices awaiting each flying message—nothing anywhere but that crowded +hall, that white-faced accused woman waiting for death or freedom, that man in +his beauty of manhood and power straining every nerve to save her. +</p> + +<p> +An hour passed. No one spoke, no one moved. Sometimes a sob, hastily stifled, +broke the oppresive hush, sometimes a stifled cough. +</p> + +<p> +Alymer rarely raised his voice, for his was no impassioned, heated declaration. +It was a magnificent piece of quiet oratory, which carried every one along by +its earnestness and convincing calm, and was intensified by the look upon his +noble, resolute face. +</p> + +<p> +After a time every one knew instinctively that he had won. The tension grew +less taut and more emotional. Women began to weep softly and restrainedly. Men +cleared their throats again and again. Some one sitting next to Hal apparently +knew him, and knew her. +</p> + +<p> +“My God,” he breathed in her ear, “he’s magnificent. +He’s saved her. I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. I’m +proud to be his friend.” +</p> + +<p> +Hal’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. She began to feel dazed and faint. +It had been too much for her, and the relief was overwhelming. +</p> + +<p> +She thought of Lorraine, and her heart swelled to think he had so gloriously +fulfilled her vast hopes, and crowned all she had done for him. She longed that +she might have been there, and then felt mysteriously that she not only was +there, but was speaking to her. In a vague, unreal, mystical way, Lorraine was +pleading with her to give him his happiness. +</p> + +<p> +She looked again, confusedly, at the big, strong, calm man; and something that +had been growing in her heart for months took shape and form. +</p> + +<p> +What did the other women matter? He was hers—hers—hers. Why stop to +question or demur? What did anything matter but that he had loved her so long +and faithfully; and that at last she loved him? +</p> + +<p> +In a stress of unendurable emotion, she got up unsteadily, and left the court. +</p> + +<p> +A quarter of an hour later, Alymer finished his speech, and sat down instantly +turning his head to look for her. Instead of the familiar, eager face of the +first hour, he saw the empty space, and his overwrought mind sank to a dull +level of bitter disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +She was not impressed, then—not even interested enough to stay until the +end. Oh, what did it matter? She was hard—hard, he was a fool to love her +so. +</p> + +<p> +The jury went away and came back with their verdict of “Not +guilty.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a rush and buzz of congratulations. He smiled, because he had to +smile, and grasped outstretched hands because he had to grasp them. The moment +it was possible to get away, he walked blindly and hurriedly to the entrance, +and got into a taxi, before the waiting crowd had had time to recognise him. +</p> + +<p> +“Where to?” a policeman asked him, and for a moment he was at a +loss to know. Then he gave Hal’s address. “Better have it out and +done with,” was his thought. Once for all he would make her tell him if +it was hopeless, and if she said yes, he would go away and try to forget her in +another country. +</p> + +<p> +When he was shown into Hal’s little sitting-room, he found her crouching +on a footstool in the firelight, before the fire. He stood a moment or two and +looked at her, and then he said in a slightly harsh voice: +</p> + +“I suppose you hurried away because you were bored. I thought you would +have stayed until the end. I was a fool. Nothing I do ever has interested you, +or ever will.” + +<p> +Hal did not look round. She was staring into the flames, with her chin resting +in her hands. When he paused she said calmly: +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t hear what you say so far away.” +</p> + +<p> +He moved across the room and stood on the hearth beside her, towering above +her, with his eyes on the opposite wall. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know why I came here at all,” he continued; +“but it didn’t seem any use going anywhere else. Why did you run +away in the middle! Did you want to punish my presumption for wishing to try +and distinguish myself before you, as well as save a woman’s life and +honour?” +</p> + +<p> +A little smile shone in Hal’s eyes, where the firelight caught them. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t hear what you say, right up there, near the +ceiling.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked down at the dark shapely head, and something in her poise and in her +voice made his heart suddenly begin to thump rather wildly. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t got a beanstalk,” she added. +</p> + +<p> +He leaned a little towards her. +</p> + +<p> +“And if you had?” he asked tensely. +</p> + +<p> +“If I had, I would perhaps climb up it.” +</p> + +<p> +He leaned lower still, his heart thumping yet more wildly. +</p> + +<p> +“If you climbed up a ladder like that, you would be bound to climb into +my arms.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—and what if I did?” she said. +</p> + +<p> +THE END. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINDING PATHS ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> +<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES—Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND—If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY—You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + +</body> + +</html> + + |