Second String Part 45

"Please don't let us say a single word more about it. If you have any feeling, any consideration for me, you'll let me go at once."

The moment was a bad one for her too. She had spent an evening alone with bitter thoughts; she had strolled out in a miserable restlessness.

Seeing the carriage pa.s.s, feeling sure that Harry was in it, she had first thought that she would hide herself till he had gone, then decided to try to reach the house before he had parted from Vivien. Her wavering landed her there at the one wrong minute.

Harry glanced up at the house; every window was dark. Vivien's room looked over the lake, the servants' quarters to the back. There was danger, of course; somebody might come; but n.o.body was there to see now.

The danger was enough to incite, not enough to deter. And what he had to say was very short.

"I only want to tell you how deeply sorry I am, and to ask you to forgive me."

"That's soon said--and soon answered. I forgive you, if I have anything to forgive."

Her voice was very low, it broke and trembled on the last words of the sentence.

"I had lost the right to love you, and I hadn't the courage to regain my freedom, with all that meant to--to poor Vivien and--others. But at least I was sincere. I didn't pretend--"

"Please, please!" Her tones sank to a whisper; he strained forward to catch it. "Have some mercy on me, Harry!"

The old exultation and the old recklessness seized on him. He suffered a very intoxication of the senses. Her strength made weakness, her stateliness turned to trembling for his sake--the spectacle swept away his good resolves as the wind blows the loose petals from a fading rose.

Springing forward, he tried to grasp her hands. She put them behind her back, and stood thus, her face upturned to his, her eyes set on him intently. He spoke in a low hoa.r.s.e voice.

"I can't stand any more of it. I've tried and tried. I love Vivien in a way, and I hate to hurt her. And I hate all the fuss too. But I can't do it any more. You're the girl for me, Isobel! It comes home to me--right home--every time I see you. Let's face it--it'll soon be over! A minute with you is worth an hour with her. I tell you I love you, Isobel." He stooped suddenly and kissed the upturned lips.

"You think that to-night. You won't to-morrow. The--the other side of it will come back."

"Face the other side with me, and I can stand it. You love me--you know you do!"

The trees swayed, murmured, and creaked under the wind; the water lapped on the edge of the lake. The footsteps of a man walking up the drive pa.s.sed unheard by the engrossed lovers. The man came to where he could see their figures. A sudden stop; then he glided into the cover of the bushes which fringed the lake, and began to crawl cautiously and noiselessly towards the house. To save Wellgood from kicking his heels for an idle hour after dinner in the hotel, and again for an idle half-hour at the station where he had to change, Lord Meriton had performed, at the cost of a _detour_ of seven or eight miles, the friendly office of bringing his colleague home in his motor-car. It is to little accidents like this that impetuous lovers are exposed. So natural when they have happened--this thing had even happened once before--so unlikely to be thought of beforehand, they are indeed florins marked by the cunning hand of chance.

Isobel made no effort to deny Harry's challenge.

"Yes, I love you, and you know it. If I didn't, I should be the most treacherous creature on earth, and the worst! Even as it is, I've nothing to boast about. But I love you, and if there were no to-morrow I'd do anything you wish or ask."

"There is no to-morrow now; it will always be like to-night." He bent again and softly kissed her.

"I daren't think so, Harry! I daren't believe it." Unconsciously she raised her voice in a little wail. The words reached Wellgood, where he was now crouching behind a bush. He dared come no nearer, lest they should hear his movements.

Harry had lost all hold on himself now. The pale image of Vivien was obliterated from his mind. He had no doubt about to-morrow--how had he ever doubted?--and he pleaded his cause with a pa.s.sion eloquent and infectious. It was hard to meet pa.s.sion like that with denial and doubt; sorely hard when belief would bring such joy and triumph!

"If you do think so to-morrow--" She slowly put her hands out to him, a happy tremulous smile on her face.

But before he could take her to his arms, a rapid change came into her eyes. She held up a hand in warning. The handle of the door had turned.

Both faced round, the door opened, and Vivien looked out.

"Oh, there you are, Isobel!" she exclaimed in a tone of relief. "I couldn't think what had become of you. I went into your room to tell you about the dinner."

"I saw the carriage pa.s.s as I was strolling in the drive, but when I got to the door you'd gone in." Her voice shook a little, but her face was now composed.

"It's my fault. I kept Miss Vintry talking on the doorstep."

"I must go in now," said Isobel. "Good-night, Mr. Harry."

Vivien looked at them in some curiosity, but without any suspicion. A thought struck her. "I believe I caught you talking about me," she said with a laugh. "And not much good about me either--because you both look a little fl.u.s.tered."

Wellgood stepped out from behind his bush.

"I think I can tell you what they've been talking about, Vivien, and I will. I've had the pleasure of listening to the last part of it."

He stood there stern and threatening, struggling to keep within bounds the rage that nearly mastered him--the rage of the deceived lover trying still to masquerade as a father's indignation. The father should have sent his daughter away; the lover was minded at all costs to heap shame and humiliation on his favoured rival and on the woman who had deceived him.

"Not before Vivien!" Harry cried impulsively.

Vivien turned eyes of wonder on him for a moment, then the old look of remoteness settled on her face. She stood holding on to the door, for support perhaps, looking now at none of them, looking out into the night.

"This man, your lover, was making love to this woman, whom I employed to look after you." He laughed scornfully. "Oh yes, a rare fool I look! But don't they look fools too? They're nicely caught at last. I daresay they've had a good run, a lot of 'I love you's,' a lot of kisses like the one I saw to-night. But they're caught at last."

Vivien spoke in a low voice. "Is it true, Isobel?" For Harry she had neither words nor eyes.

"It's true," said Isobel; now her voice was calm. "There's no use saying anything about it."

"And you let him do it!" cried Wellgood, his voice rising in pa.s.sion.

"You her friend, you her guardian, you who--" His words seemed nearly to choke him. He turned his fury on to Harry. "You scoundrel, you shall pay for this! I'll make Meriton too hot to hold you! You try to swagger about this place as you've been doing, you try to open your mouth in public, and I'll be there with this pretty story! I'll make an end of your chances in Meriton! You shall find out what it is to make a fool of Mark Wellgood! Yes, you shall pay for it!"

From the beginning Harry had found nothing to say; what was there? His face was sunk in a dull despair, his eyes set on the ground. He shrugged his shoulders now, murmuring hoa.r.s.ely, "You must do as you like."

Suddenly Isobel spoke out. "This is your doing. If you had let me go, as I wanted to, this wouldn't have happened. You suspected it, and yet you kept me here. I begged you to let me go. You wouldn't. I tried to do the honest thing--to end it all and go. You wouldn't let me--you know why."

"You wanted to go, Isobel?" asked Vivien gently. "And father wouldn't let you?"

"Yes. If he likes to tell you the reason, he can. But I say this is his doing--his! He's been waiting and watching for it. Well, he's got it now, and he must deal with it."

Her taunts broke down the last of Wellgood's self-control. "Yes, I'll deal with it!" The lover forgot the father, the father forgot his daughter. "And I'll deal with him--the blackguard who's interfered between me and you!"

Vivien turned her head towards her father with a quick motion. His eyes were set on Isobel in a furious jealousy. Vivien gave a sharp indrawing of her breath. Now she understood.

"He shall pay for it!" cried Wellgood, and made a dart towards Harry, raising the stick which he had in his hand.

In an instant Vivien was across his path, and caught his uplifted arm in both of hers. "Not that way, father!"

"Go into the house, Vivien."

"For my sake, father!"

"Go into the house, I say. Let me alone."

"Not till you promise me you won't do that."

He looked down into her pleading face. His own softened a little. "Very well, my girl, I promise you I won't do that."

Neither Isobel nor Harry had moved; they made no sign now. Vivien slowly loosed her grasp of her father's arm and turned back towards the door.