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That evening Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe called, ostensibly to look over the house and as landlord to see if there was anything he could do to make it more comfortable, and I, blind fool that I was for the moment, believed that that was his real errand, and ventured to remind Henriette of the leak in the roof, at which they both, I thought, exchanged amused glances, and _he_ gravely mounted the stairs to the top of the house to look at it. On our return, Henriette dismissed me and told me that she would not require my services again during the evening. Even then my suspicions were not aroused, although there was a dull, disturbed feeling about my heart whose precise causes I could not define. I went to the club and put in a miserable evening, returning home about midnight to discover that Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe was still there. He was apparently giving the house and its contents a thorough inspection, for when I arrived, Henriette was testing the fifty-thousand-dollar piano in the drawing-room for him with a brilliant rendering of "O Promise Me." What decision they reached as to its tone and quality I never knew, for in spite of my hints on the subject, Henriette never spoke of the matter to me. I suppose I should have begun to guess what was happening under my very nose then, but thank Heaven I am not of a suspicious nature, and although I didn't like the looks of things, the inevitable meaning of their strange behavior never even dawned upon my mind. Even when two nights later Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe escorted Henriette home at midnight from a lecture on the Inscrutability of Sartor Resartus at Mrs. Gushington-Andrews's it did not strike me as unusual, although, instead of going home immediately, as most escorts do under the circ.u.mstances, he remained about two hours testing that infernal piano again, and with the same old tune.
Then the automobile rides began, and pretty nearly every morning, long before polite society was awake, Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe and Henriette took long runs together through the country in her Mercedes machine, for what purpose I snever knew, for whatever interest the colonel might have had in our welfare as a landlord I could not for the life of me guess how it could be extended to our automobiles. One thing I did notice, however, was a growing coldness between Henriette and Mrs. Gushington-Andrews.
The latter came to a card-party at Bolivar Lodge one afternoon about two weeks after Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe's return, and her greeting to her hostess instead of having the old-time effusiveness was frigid to a degree. In fact, when they clasped hands I doubt if more than the tips of their fingers touched. Moreover, Mrs. Gushington-Andrews, hitherto considered one of the best fists at bridge or hearts in the 400, actually won the b.o.o.by prize, which I saw her throw into the street when she departed. It was evident something had happened to disturb her equanimity.
My eyes were finally opened by a remark made at the club by Digby, Reggie de Pelt's valet, who asked me how I liked my new boss, and whose explanation of the question led to a complete revelation of the true facts in the case. Everybody knew, he said, that from the moment she had met him Mrs. Van Raffles had set her cap for Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe, and that meeting her for the first time he had fallen head over heels in love with her even in the presence of his fiancee. Of course I hotly denied Digby's insinuations, and we got so warm over the discussion that when I returned home that night I had two badly discolored eyes, and Digby--well, Digby didn't go home at all. Both of us were suspended from the Gentleman's Gentleman's Club for four weeks for ungentleman's ungentlemanly behavior in consequence. Black as my eyes were, however, I was on hand at the breakfast-table the following morning, and of course Henriette observed my injuries.
"Why, Bunny!" she cried. "What is the meaning of this? Have you been fighting?"
"Oh no, Mrs. Van Raffles," I returned, sarcastically, "I've just strained my eyes reading the divorce news from South Dakota."
She gave a sudden start.
"What do you mean?" she demanded, her face flushing hotly.
"You know well enough what I mean," I retorted, angrily. "Your goings on with Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe are the talk of the town, and I got these eyes in a little discussion of your matrimonial intentions. That's all."
"Leave the room instantly!" she cried, rising and haughtily pointing to the door. "You are insufferable."
But the color in her cheeks showed that I had hit home far harder than she was willing to admit. There was nothing for me to do but to obey meekly, but my blood was up, and instead of moping in my room I started out to see if I could find Constant-Sc.r.a.ppe. My love for Henriette was too deep to permit of my sitting quietly by and seeing another walk away with the one truly coveted prize of my life, and I was ready on sight to take the colonel by the collar--he was only a governor's-staff colonel anyhow, and, consequently no great shakes as a fighter--and throw him into the harbor, but my quest was a vain one. He was to be found in none of his familiar haunts, and I returned to Bolivar Lodge. And then came the shock. As I approached the house I saw the colonel a.s.sisting Henriette into the motor-car, and in response to the chauffeur's "Where to, sir," I heard Sc.r.a.ppe reply in an excited undertone:
"To New York--and d.a.m.n the speed laws."
In a moment they had rushed by me like the flash of a lightning express, and Henriette was gone!
You must know the rest. The papers the next day were full of the elopement in high life. They told how the Sc.r.a.ppe divorce had been granted at five o'clock in the afternoon the day before, how Colonel Sc.r.a.ppe and Mrs. Van Raffles had sped to New York in the automobile and been quietly married at the Little Church Around the Corner, and were now sailing down the bay on the _Hydrostatic_, bound for foreign climes.
They likewise intimated that a very attractive lady of more than usual effusiveness of manner, whose nuptials were expected soon to be published for the second time, had gone to a sanitarium in Philadelphia to be treated for a sudden and overwhelming attack of nervous hysteria.
It was all too true, that tale. Henriette's final coup had been successful, and she had at one stroke stolen her landlord, her landlady's husband, and her neighbor's fiance. To console me she left this note, written on board of the steamer and mailed by the pilot.
ON BOARD THE HYDROSTATIC.
OFF SANDY HOOK, _September 10, 1904_.
DEAR BUNNY,--I couldn't help it. The minute I saw him I felt that I must have him. It's the most successful haul yet and is the last adventure I shall ever have. He's worth forty million dollars. I'm sorry for you, dear, but it's all in the line of business. To console you I have left in your name all that we have won together in our partnership at Newport--fourteen millions five hundred and sixty-three thousand nine hundred and seventy-seven dollars in cash, and about three million dollars in jewels, which you must negotiate carefully. Good-bye, dear Bunny, I shall never forget you, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. With the funds now in your possession why not retire--go home to England and renew your studies for the ministry? The Church is a n.o.ble profession.
Sincerely yours, HENRIETTE VAN RAFFLES-Sc.r.a.pPE.
I have gathered together these meagre possessions--rich in bullion value, but meagre in happiness, considering all that might have been, and to-morrow I sail for London. There, following Henriette's advice, I shall enter the study of the ministry, and when I am ordained shall buy a living somewhere and settle down to the serene existence of the preacher, the pastor of a flock of human sheep.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "MY MISERY IS DEEP BUT I AM BUOYED UP BY ONE GREAT HOPE"]
My misery is deep but I am buoyed up by one great hope in every thought.
These Newport marriages are so seldom for life that I yet have hope that some day Henriette will be restored to me without its necessarily involving any serious accident to her husband the colonel.