Dodo's Daughter Part 35

"You managed that farcical interlude, you know. You licensed it, so to speak, like the censor of plays."

"Yes, I licensed it, you are quite right. But, my dear, I didn't license it as a farce; there you wrong me. I licensed it as what I hoped would be a very pleasant play. You must be just, Seymour: you didn't love her then, nor she you. You were good friends, and there was no shadow of a reason to suppose that you would not pa.s.s very happy times together. The great love, the real thing, is not given to everybody. But when it comes, we must bow to it.... It is royal."

All his flippancy and quickness of wit had gone from him. Next conversation remained only because it was a habit.

"And I am royal," he said. "I love Nadine like that."

"Then you know that when that regality comes," she said quickly, "it comes without control. It is the same with Nadine; it is by no wish of hers that it came."

"I must know that from Nadine," he said. "I can't take your word for it, or anybody's except hers. She made a promise to me."

"She cannot keep it," said Dodo. "It is an impossibility for her. She made it under different conditions, and you put your hand to it under the same. And Nadine said you understood, and behaved so delightfully yesterday. All honor to you, since behind your behavior there was that knowledge, that royalty."

"I had to. But don't think I abdicated. But she was in terrible distress, and really, Aunt Dodo, the rest of your guests were quite idiotic. Berts looked like a frog; he had the meaningless pathos of a frog on his silly face--"

"Nadine said he looked like a funeral with plumes," Dodo permitted herself to interpolate.

"More like a frog. Edith kept pouring out gla.s.ses of port to take to Nadine, but I think she usually forgot and drank them herself. It was a lunatic asylum. But Nadine felt."

"Ah, my dear," said Dodo, with a movement of her hand on to his.

Seymour quietly disengaged his own.

"Very gratifying," he said, "but as I said, I take n.o.body's word for it, except Nadine's. She has got to tell me herself. Where is she? I have to go in five minutes, but to see her will still leave me four to spare."

Dodo got up.

"You shall see her," she said. "But come quietly, because she is asleep."

"If she is only to talk to me in her sleep--" began he.

"Come quietly," said Dodo.

But all her pity was stirred, and as they went along the pa.s.sage to Hugh's room, she slipped her arm into his. She knew that her _coup_ was slightly theatrical, but there seemed no better way of showing him. It might fail: he might still desire explanations, but it was worth trying.

"And remember I am sorry," she said, "and be sure that Nadine will be sorry."

"Riddles," said Seymour.

"Yes, my dear, riddles if you will," said she. "But you may guess the answer."

Dodo quietly turned the handle of the door into the nurse's room, and entered with her arm still in his. She made a sign of silence, and took Seymour straight through into the sick-room. All was as she had left it a quarter-of-an-hour ago; Nadine still slept and Hugh, in that same att.i.tude of security and love. Her head was drooped; she slept as only children and lovers sleep. But Dodo with all her intuition did not see as much as Seymour, who loved her, saw. The truth of it was branded into his brain, whereas it only shone in hers. She saw the situation: he felt it.

Then with a signal of pressure on his arm, she led him out again.

"She has been there all night," she said. "She only fell asleep at dawn."

They were in the pa.s.sage again before Seymour spoke.

"There is no need for me to awake her or talk to her," he said. "You were quite right. And I congratulate you on your _ensemble_. I should have guessed that it required most careful rehearsal. And I should have been wrong. And now, for G.o.d's sake, don't be kind and tender--"

He took his arm away from hers, feeling for her then more resentment than he might feel against the footman who conveyed cold soup to him. He did not want the footman's sympathy, nor did he want Dodo's.

"And spare me your optimism," he said. "If you tell me it is all for the best, I shall scream. It isn't for the best, as far as I am concerned.

It is d.a.m.ned bad. I was a Thing, and Nadine made a man of me. Now she is tired of her handiwork, and says that I shall be a Thing again. And don't tell me I shall get over it. The fact that I know I shall, makes your information, which was on the tip of your tongue, wanton and superfluous. But if you think I shall love Hugh, because he loves Nadine, you are utterly astray. I am not a child in a Sunday school, letting the teacher smack both sides of my face. I hate Hugh, and I am not the least touched by the disgusting spectacle you have taken me on tiptoe to see. They looked like two amorous monkeys in the monkey-house."

Seymour suddenly paused and gasped.

"They didn't," he said. "At any rate Nadine looked as I have often pictured her looking. The difference is that it was myself, not Hugh, beside whom I imagined her falling asleep. That makes a lot of difference if you happen to be the person concerned. And now I hope the motor is ready to take me away, and many thanks for an absolutely d.a.m.nable visit. Don't look pained. It doesn't hurt you as much as it hurts me. There is a real _cliche_ to finish with."

Dodo's _coup_ had been sufficiently theatrical to satisfy her, but she had not reckoned with the possible savageness that it might arouse.

Seymour's temper, as well as his love, was awake, and she had not thought of the two as being at home simultaneously, but had imagined they played Box-and-c.o.x with each other in the minds of men. Here Box and c.o.x met, and they were hand-in-hand. He was convinced and angry: she had imagined he would be convinced and pathetic. With that combination she had felt herself perfectly competent to deal. But his temper roused hers.

"You are at least interesting," she said briskly, "and I have enjoyed what you call your d.a.m.nable visit as much as you. You seem to have behaved decently yesterday, but no doubt that was Nadine's mistake."

"Not at all: it was mine," he said.

"Which you now recognize," said she. "I am afraid you must be off, if you want to catch your train. Good-by."

"Good-by," said he.

He turned from her at the top of the stairs, and went down a half-dozen of them. Then suddenly he turned back again.

"Don't you see I'm in h.e.l.l?" he said.

Dodo entirely melted at that, and ran down the stairs to him.

"Oh, Seymour, my dear," she said. "A woman's pity can't hurt you. Do accept it."

She drew that handsome tragical face towards her, and kissed him.

"Do you mind my kissing you?" she said. "There's my heart behind it.

There is, indeed."

"Thanks, Aunt Dodo," he said. "And--and you might tell Nadine I saw her like that. I am not so very stupid. I understand: good-by."

"And Hugh?" she asked, quite unwisely, but in that optimistic spirit that he had deprecated.

"Don't strain magnanimity," he said. "It's quality is _not_ strained.

Say good-by to Nadine for me. Say I saw her asleep, and didn't disturb her. I never thought much of her intelligence, but she may understand that. She will have to tell me what she means to do. That I require. At present our wedding-day is fixed."

Seymour broke off suddenly and ran downstairs without looking back.

Dodo was quite sincerely very sorry for him, but almost the moment he had gone she ceased to think about him altogether, for there were so many soul-absorbing topics to occupy her, and forgetting she had had no breakfast, she went to Edith's room (Edith alone had not the slightest intention of going away) to discuss them. Her optimism was luckily quite incurable: she could not look on the darker aspect of affairs for more than a minute or two. She found Edith breakfasting in bed, with a large fur cape flung over her shoulders. Her breakfast had been placed on a table beside her, but for greater convenience she had disposed the plates round her, on her counterpane. There were also disposed there sheets of music-paper, a pen and ink-bottle, and a box of cigarettes.

The window was wide open, and as Dodo entered the draught caused the music paper to flutter, and Edith laid hasty restraining hands on it, and screamed with her mouth full.

"Shut the door quickly!" she cried. "And then come and have some breakfast, Dodo. I don't think I shall get up to-day. I have been composing since six this morning, and if I get up the thread may be entirely broken. Beethoven worked at the C minor Symphony for three days and nights without eating, sleeping, or washing."

"I see you are eating," remarked Dodo. "I hope that won't prevent your giving us another C minor."