Madcap Part 51

"Yes. And Hermia--Miss Challoner was in Switzerland."

"Yes. So I hear. Very interesting. But how does that explain things to Pierre de Folligny? He met her the other day--and remembered her perfectly--"

Markham rose and paced the floor.

"Oh," he heard her saying, "she denied seeing him in France, of course,--but it was quite awkward--for her, I mean."

He took two or three turns, his brows serious, and then came and stood near her at the mantelpiece.

"You must straighten things out, Olga--with De Folligny," he muttered.

"It will ruin her, if he speaks--you know what New York is. Gossip like that travels like fire. And she doesn't deserve it--not that.

You've told me that you don't believe in her innocence, but at heart I think you do. You must. I swear to you--on the honor of--"

She raised a hand.

"Don't--!" quickly. "I'm willing to a.s.sume her innocence. Haven't I told you that I had been prepared to forget the whole incident--when she cut me. Why did she do that? What does that mean?"

"Not guilt surely--wouldn't she be trying to get you on her side?"

Olga waved an expressive hand.

"Oh, that's impossible--and she knows it."

"Why?"

She paused, shielding her eyes with her fingers. He was such an innocent. But she had no notion of enlightening him.

"She has given you up--to marry. That's clear. I told her secret.

The simplest way out of her difficulty is to ignore me. Well--let her.

I don't mind. I'll survive. But I would give my ears to let Fifth Avenue know--"

"No--no," he put in quickly, "you mustn't do that-- If you've ceased to care for her, you've got your duty to me to consider. Do you hold my honor so lightly--"

"Yours?"

"Yes. She was in my care. I let her go with me. The responsibility was sacred. I was morally pledged to keep her from harm. That responsibility has not ceased because she no longer--because she has made up her mind to--to marry. It's greater even. If you ever told that story--"

"And De Foligny? You forget him--"

He came quickly over and took her hands in his.

"You can seal this secret, if you will, as in a tomb. Do it, Olga. It will be magnificent of you. Give me your word--your promise to keep silent--to keep De Folligny silent--"

She had turned, her chin upon her shoulder, away from him.

"You ask a great deal," she said with reluctance.

"Not more than you can give--not more than you _will_ give. Whatever your--your differences she doesn't deserve this of you. Will it give you pleasure in after years to think of her life embittered--of _his_ life embittered, too, by a piece of gossip, woven out of a tissue of half-truths--that will d.a.m.n her--as half-truths do?"

"You love her so much as this?" she gasped.

He relinquished her hand--stood a moment looking dumbly at her and then walked the length of the room away. The little clock on the mantel ticked gaily, the fire sparkled and the familiar sounds of the careless city came faintly to their ears. She stirred and he turned toward her.

"Will you promise?" he asked quietly.

"Promise what?"

"Not to speak--of what you saw at Alenon."

"Yes. I promise that," she said slowly at last.

"Or let De Folligny speak?"

Another silence. And then from thinned lips.

"I--I will use my influence--to keep him silent."

The firmness of her tone a.s.sured him. He caught up her hands and pressed them softly to his lips.

"I knew you would, Olga. I knew you were bigger than that. I thank you--I will never forget--"

But before he could finish she had s.n.a.t.c.hed her fingers away from him and was laughing softly at the tea-caddy.

"Now, if you please," she said composedly, "we will speak of pleasanter things."

She opened a long silver box on the table and took a cigarette, offering him one.

"The pipe of peace?" he asked.

"If you like."

He drew in the smoke gratefully.

"Olga, you're a trump," he said with a genuine heartiness.

"Thanks," she said dryly. "I know it. And you're playing me quite successfully--aren't you? Hearts? and I'm the 'dummy.' I never liked playing the 'dummy.'"

He laughed.

"I wish I were quite sure in my mind what you _do_ like to play."

Her look questioned coolly.

"I mean, that, as well as I've thought I've know you, I find that I've never known you at all. You're a creature of bewildering transitions.

I hear that you're going to marry De Folligny."

"And what if I am?" she flashed at him.