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"DEAR HILLIER,--I want to have a talk with you. Will you come and see me at my chambers at four o'clock the day after to-morrow? No. 7 Ess.e.x Court, Temple. Yours sincerely,
"PERCIVAL KELLYNCH."
Nigel was amazed to receive this, and rather alarmed too. It was about a week since he had had Bertha's little letter, but he had made no attempt to see her since.
He answered immediately that he would call at the time appointed and pa.s.sed a very restless day and night beforehand.
CHAPTER XXVIII
AN INTERVIEW
Nigel, filled with curiosity, and rather anxious, arrived punctually to the moment. He was shown into Percy's chambers by a stout and prosperous-looking middle-aged clerk, with a gold watch-chain.
He waited there for some minutes, walking slowly up and down the room and examining it. It was a very dull, serious room, almost depressing.
On the large table lay bulbous important-looking briefs, tied up with red tape. Framed caricatures of judges and eminent barristers from _Vanity Fair_ hung round the walls. The furniture was scarce, large and heavy. On the mantelpiece was a framed photograph with a closed leather cover. It looked interesting and expensive, and Nigel with his quick movements had the curiosity to go across the room to open it. It contained two lovely photographs of Bertha: one in furs and a hat, the other in evening dress. It irritated Nigel. ... A sound of footsteps gave him only just time to close it with a spring, and sit down.
Percy came in looking as Nigel had never seen him look before. There had been an unimportant case in court, but he had been unable to get away before. He was so orderly as a rule that he detested keeping anybody waiting. He looked flushed and hurried, and his black smooth hair was extraordinarily rough and wild. Of course, Nigel remembered, he had just taken off his wig. There was a red line on his forehead, the mark left by this ornament. The effect made him look like a different person. He threw off his coat and spoke seriously and rather formally.
"Sorry, Hillier. Delayed in court. Hope I haven't kept you?"
"It doesn't matter in the least," Nigel answered in his cheery way.
Nigel was looking exceedingly at ease, and happy, though the manner was really a.s.sumed to-day. He was very smartly dressed, with light gloves and a b.u.t.tonhole of violets, and looked a gay contrast to Percy, with his unusually rough hair and solemn expression.
"I was very interested. I don't think I've ever seen a barrister's chambers before. Jolly rooms you've got here. What a charming place the Temple is. ... Well! I've been simply dying of curiosity," he went on, with a pleasant smile.
"Sit down," said Percy. "Have a cigarette?"
Nigel lighted up. Percy did not.
"It's not very pleasant what I want to say to you. It's simply that I don't want you to come to our house any more."
Nigel looked surprised and coloured slightly.
"And may I ask your reason?"
"I don't see why I should give it, but I will. I don't wish you to see my wife any more."
"This is very extraordinary, Kellynch! Why?"
"I've reason to believe that your old friendship has been the cause of some talk--some scandal. I don't like it. I won't have it, and that's sufficient. I insist on you avoiding her in future."
Nigel stared blankly.
"I can only agree of course. I'll do just as you tell me. But I think, as we've known each other so long, that it would be only fair for you to tell me what is your reason for thinking this."
Nigel walked up and down the room, turned suddenly and said: "What has put this idea into your head?"
Percy hesitated a moment.
"I'll tell you if you like. But, mind, I want no explanations. I needn't say," he glanced at the closed photograph, "that I could have no doubt of any kind. ... But I have a right to choose my friends and my wife's also."
"She doesn't object?"
Percy frowned and looked him straight in the face.
"I undertake to say she will not object. We'll make this conversation as short as we can. You've asked me my reason and I'll give it you. I've had a series of extraordinary anonymous letters concerning you."
Nigel stared, horrified.
"She knows nothing about it," continued Percy, "and I attach no importance to them, except, as I say, they show that your acquaintance must have been misconstrued, and I won't have a shadow ... on her."
"This is rather hard on me, Kellynch. However, I have the satisfaction of knowing my conscience is absolutely clear, and of course, I'll do just as you wish. Have you any objection to showing me the letters?"
After a moment's pause, Percy said:
"No. I don't know that I have. I've got them here. I meant to shove them in the fire, but I'll let you read them first, if you like."
He went to a drawer, unlocked it, gave Nigel the letters, and watched him while he read them.
The moment Nigel glanced at them he knew they were written by Mary. He remembered by the dates when she had had the typewriter; he remembered, even, seeing some of the white notepaper. He read them all. Then he looked up and said:
"Kellynch, it's good of you to show these to me. I'm sorry to say I know who wrote them. The earlier ones telling of the appointments are all perfectly true, but entirely misrepresented. They can all be explained."
"I understand that," said Percy. "Of course the suggestion and the impression the writer tries to give are absolutely false."
"Quite so. May I burn the letters now?"
There was a fire and Nigel threw them into it. He saw no point in keeping them to confront Mary with. She would confess anyhow.
"May I ask one thing more?"
"My wife knows nothing about them," repeated Percy.
Nigel thought what a pity that was. If she had, she would not have come to the party; things might have been tided over. But now. ... He had no hope of the wish of his life, he was as furious as a spoilt child who is deprived of a favourite toy--or, rather, disappointed of all hopes of getting one. He became more and more angry with Percy and longed to annoy him. The fellow was too satisfied--too lucky--he had everything too much his own way!
"May I ask one thing?" said Nigel, as the letters were burning and he gave them one last irritated touch with the poker, "may I ask, does this affair give you the impression that I--only I naturally--had any--er--motives in trying to see Mrs. Kellynch often? If I may put it plainly, did you think I cared for her in a way that I had no right to?"
"To tell you the honest truth," said Percy, "as I choose to be frank with you, I won't say you had ... motives, but I have the impression that you--er--admire her too much."
Nigel waited a moment.