A Duet, with an Occasional Chorus Part 48

'You think the week afterwards?'

'Yes, dear. It would help me so, if I knew that you were in your best form.'

'_I_! What can it matter what form _I_ am in. But in any case, it is out of the question.'

'But you could get leave.'

'Oh yes, easily enough.'

'Then do go.'

'And leave you at such a time!'

'No, no, you would be back.'

'You can't be so sure of that. No, Maude, I should never forgive myself. Such an idea would never enter my head.'

'But for my sake--!'

'That's enough, Maude. It is settled.'

Master Frank had a heavy foot when he did bring it down, and his wife recognised a decisive thud this time. With a curious double current of feeling, she was pleased and disappointed at the same time, but more pleased than disappointed, so she kissed the marrer of her plots.

'What an obstinate old boy it is! But of course you know best, and I should much rather have you at home. As you say, one can never be certain.'

In a conflict of wits the woman may lose a battle, but the odds are that she will win the campaign. The man dissipates over many things, while she concentrates upon the one. Maude had made up her mind absolutely upon one point, and she meant to attain it. She tried here, she tried there, through a friend, through her mother, but Frank was still immovable. The ordeal coming upon herself never disturbed her for an instant. But the thought that Frank would suffer was unendurable. She put herself in his place, and realised what it would be to him if he were in the house at such a time. With many cunning devices she tried to lure him off, but still, in his stubborn way, he refused to be misled. And then suddenly she realised that it was too late.

It was early one morning that the conviction came home to her, but he, at her side, knew nothing of it. He came up to her before he left for the City.

'You have not eaten anything, dear.'

'No, Frank, I am not hungry.'

'Perhaps, after you get up--'

'Well, dear, I thought of staying in bed.'

'You are not--?'

'What nonsense, dear! I want to keep very quiet until next week, when I may need all my strength.'

'Dear girl, I would gladly give ten years of my life to have next week past.'

'Silly old boy! But I do think it would be wiser if I were to keep in bed.'

'Yes, yes, do.'

'I have a little headache. Nothing to speak of, but just a little.'

'Don't you think Dr. Jordan had better give you something for it.'

'Do you think so? Well, just as you like. You might call as you pa.s.s, and tell him to step up.'

And so, upon a false mission, the doctor was summoned to her side, but found a very real mission waiting for him when he got there. She had written a note for Frank the moment that he had left the house, and he found both it and a conspiracy of silence waiting for him when he returned in the late afternoon. The note was upon the hall-table, and he eagerly tore it open.

'My dear boy,' said this mendacious epistle, 'my head is still rather bad, and Dr. Jordan thought that it would be wiser if I were to have an undisturbed rest, but I will send down to you when I feel better.

Until then I had best, perhaps, remain alone. Mr. Harrison sent round to say that he would come to help you to pot the bulbs, so that will give you something to do. Don't bother about me, for I only want a little rest.--MAUDE.'

It seemed very unnatural to him to come back and not to hear the swift rustle of the dress which followed always so quickly upon the creak of his latch-key that they might have been the same sound. The hall and dining-room seemed unhomely without the bright welcoming face. He wandered about in a discontented fashion upon his tiptoes, and then, looking through the window, he saw Harrison his neighbour coming up the path with a straw basket in his hand. He opened the door for him with his finger upon his lips.

'Don't make a row, Harrison,' said he, 'my wife's bad.'

Harrison whistled softly.

'Not--?'

'No, no, not that. Only a headache, but she is not to be disturbed.

We expect THAT next week. Come in here and smoke a pipe with me. It was very kind of you to bring the bulbs.'

'I am going back for some more.'

'Wait a little. You can go back presently. Sit down and light your pipe. There is some one moving about upstairs. It must be that heavy-footed Jemima. I hope she won't wake Maude up. I suppose one must expect such attacks at such a time.'

'Yes, my wife was just the same. No, thank you, I've just had some tea. You look worried, Crosse. Don't take things too hard.'

'I can't get the thought of next week out of my head. If anything goes wrong--well there, what can I do? I never knew how a man's nerves may be harrowed before. And she is such a saint, Harrison-- such an absolutely unselfish saint! You'll never guess what she tried to do.'

'What, then?'

'She knew what it would mean to me--what it will mean to me--to sit here in impotence while she goes through this horrible business. She guessed in some extraordinary way what my secret feelings were about it. And she actually tried to deceive me as to when it was to occur- -tried to get me out of the house on one pretext or another until it was all over. That was her plot, and, by Jove, she tried it so cleverly that she would have managed it if something had not put me on my guard. She was a little too eager, unnaturally so, and I saw through her game. But think of it, the absolute unselfishness of it.

To consider ME at such a time, and to face her trouble alone and unsupported in order to make it easier for me. She wanted me to go to Norwich and play golf.'

'She must have thought you pretty guileless, Crosse, to be led away so easily.'

'Yes, it was a hopeless attempt to deceive me on such a point, or to dream for an instant that my instincts would not tell me when she had need of me. But none the less it was beautiful and characteristic.

You don't mind my talking of these things, Harrison?'

'My dear chap, it is just what you need. You have been bottling things up too much. Your health will break down under it. After all, it is not so serious as all that. The danger is very much exaggerated.'

'You think so.'

'I've had the experience twice now. You'll go to the City some fine morning, and when you come back the whole thing will be over.'

'Indeed it won't. I have made arrangements at the office, and from the hour that she first seems bad I will never stir from the house.

For all she may say, I know very well that it gives her strength and courage to feel that I am there.'

'You may not know that it is coming on?'

Frank laughed incredulously.