A Bachelor Husband Part 67

"Do I have to get into war paint?" he asked, and she laughed as she said that he could please himself.

"Why haven't you been to see us before?" she questioned.

"Because I knew you had company, and I haven't any company manners."

"It's only Dorothy Webber--you met her in Scotland."

"Yes... ." There was a little pause, and before she could think of anything else to say he said: "Well, I shall see you this evening, then."

"Yes."

Marie sighed as she hung up the receiver. She wished he had refused to come, and yet she was longing to see him. She felt painfully nervous as the evening drew nearer.

Chris had driven out into the country with Dorothy to play golf, and for the first time for a week Marie found herself with a little breathing s.p.a.ce.

Chris' attentions had been rather overwhelming. He had done his best, she knew, and was grateful to him for it, but he left her rather breathless. She could never lose sight of the fact that his affections were forced and wondered how much longer he would be able to keep up the farce.

She never gave herself a moment in which to think. She never looked forward, but lived in the present only.

Chris had said he should be home at six, but at seven o'clock, when Feathers was announced, he had not returned.

Marie went down to the drawing-room with a trembling heart. She had hoped that her husband would have been home before Feathers came.

She knew that her face was white as she crossed the room to him and that her voice was unsteady as she said:

"Chris hasn't got back yet--I am so sorry. He promised to be in at six! I am afraid something has gone wrong with the car."

"It's not very late," Feathers said kindly. "I think I am rather before my time. He is sure to be in directly."

Marie walked over to the window and looked into the street. The September evening was closing in rapidly, with rather depressing greyness.

"I hope nothing has happened to them," she said faintly. She was not at all anxious really, but she felt that she must gain time to recover her composure before she could talk to Feathers.

He watched her across the room with sad eyes. He had not seen her since that day on the golf links, and he took in every detail of her graceful little figure hungrily.

She was wearing a white frock of some gauzy material, cut rather low, and her soft brown hair curled into little ringlets like a child's on the white nape of her neck.

Was she any happier, he wondered? He knew that Chris had been about with her a great deal during the past week, and he hoped with all his heart that things were improving between them. He longed to ask her, but was afraid. He knew that the only safe thing for them was to keep to ordinary topics of conversation.

Marie dropped the curtain presently and came back to him.

"What have you been doing with yourself?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, nothing in particular. Yesterday I played golf with young Atkins. He asked after you."

"Did he?" Her eyes brightened. "I wish I could see him again."

"He tells me he is going to America shortly. He has been in his father's office, you know, but they don't get on, and so I think it's very wise of him to clear out."

"And you are going to Italy?" Marie said constrainedly. "Chris suggested that we should go, too, but--but I don't think I care to."

"It's the wrong time of year to see Italy to advantage."

"Yes, I know."

She looked at him wistfully. So strong, such a man! Longing to know the perfect happiness of his love crept into her heart.

There would be no half measures with him, she knew; no pretences.

He would give all or nothing.

In spite of what he had said, Feathers had struggled into evening clothes. They did not fit him particularly well, but they seemed to magnify the squareness and strength of his build. Though he was not so tall as Chris, he always looked taller, and, despite his ugly features, there was something very n.o.ble in the rough outline of his head and s.h.a.ggy hair.

"Where are they playing to-day?" he asked, breaking a silence that was beginning to get unbearable, and Marie said:

"Where we went before--the place where Mrs. Heriot is staying."

"Oh!" There was something dry in the little monosyllable that made her say impulsively: "I suggested it. Chris has been so unselfish lately, taking us about all over the place, I thought he deserved a holiday--he likes playing with Dorothy, you know."

"Yes." There was the sound of a car driving up outside, and Feathers said, with obvious relief: "Here they are, I expect."

Chris came into the room a moment later. He looked at his wife anxiously.

"I'm sorry, Marie Celeste," he said. "The wretched car broke down, and it took me half an hour to get it right. I hope you haven't been anxious about us? How are you, old chap?"

The two men shook hands.

"Where is Dorothy?" Marie asked, and Chris looked away from her as he said, "I believe she went straight upstairs to dress."

"I'll go and tell her not to hurry."

Marie ran up to her friend's room, glad to get away for a moment.

She knocked at the door, and, getting no answer, turned the handle and went in. Dorothy was standing in the middle of the room, her hands over her face. She had made no attempt to change her frock, and she still wore her coat and the jaunty velvet cap with a jay's wing at the side in which she had started out that morning.

Marie gave a little stifled cry.

"Dorothy! Oh, what is the matter?"

Dorothy started violently. She dabbed her eyes hurriedly with her handkerchief and tried to laugh.

"Nothing! Don't look so scared! I'm only rather worried." She turned away to hide her face. "I've had a letter with rather bad news. No, I can't tell you now--it's nothing! Please, go down and I'll be ready in a minute. I'm so sorry we're late, Marie. The silly car went wrong."

"I know. Chris told me. Dorothy, are you sure there is nothing the matter--nothing I can do for you?"

"Quite sure! Run downstairs, there's a dear; I won't be a minute."

She almost turned Marie out of the room.

Chris was coming upstairs as she crossed the landing, and he stopped looking at her in quick concern.