Stephen Archer, and Other Tales Part 23

_Ger._ What _do_ you mean?

_Col. G._ I mean, when there is anything there, he can't well help his temper, sir.

_Ger._ I don't understand you; but, anyhow, you--go too far, William.

_Col. G._ I beg your pardon, sir: I forgot myself. I do humbly beg your pardon. Shall I make some fresh coffee, sir? It's not cold--only it's stood too long.

_Ger._ The coffee will do well enough. (_Exit_ COL. G.)--Is she so beautiful? (_turning to the Psyche_)--Is there a likeness?--I see it.--Nonsense! A mere chance confluence of the ideal and the actual.--Even then the chance must mean something. Such a _mere_ chance would indeed be a strange one!

_Enter_ CONSTANCE.

Oh, my heart! here she comes! my Psyche herself!--Well, Constance!

_Con._ Oh, Arthur, I am _so_ glad I've found you! I want to talk to you about something. I know you don't care much about me now, but I _must_ tell you, for it would be wrong not.

_Ger._ (_aside_). How beautiful she is! What _can_ she have to tell me about? It cannot be--it _shall_ not be--. Sit down, won't you?

(_offering her a chair_.)

_Con._ No. _You_ sit there (_pointing to the dais_), and I will sit here (_placing herself on the lower step_). It was here I used to sit so often when I was a little girl. Why can't one keep little? I was always with you then! (_Sighs_.)

_Ger._ It is not my fault, Constance.

_Con._ Oh no! I suppose it can't be. Only I don't see why. Oh, Arthur, where should I be but for you! I saw the old place yesterday. How dreadful and yet how dear it was!

_Ger._ Who took you there?

_Con._ n.o.body. I went alone.

_Ger._ It was hardly safe.--I don't like your going out alone, Constance.

_Con._ Why, Arthur! I used to know every court and alley about Sh.o.r.editch better than I know Berkeley Square now!

_Ger._ But what made you go there?

_Con._ I went to find a dressmaker who has been working for my aunt, and lost my way. And--would you believe it?--I was actually frightened!

_Ger._ No wonder! There are rough people about there.

_Con._ I never used to think them rough when I lived among them with my father and mother. There must be just as good people there as anywhere else. Yet I could not help shuddering at the thought of living there again!--How strange it made me feel! You have been my angel, Arthur. What would have become of me if you hadn't taken me, I dare not think.

_Ger._ I have had my reward, Constance: you are happy.

_Con._ Not quite. There's something I want to tell you.

_Ger._ Tell on, child.

_Con._ Oh, thank you!--that is how you used to talk to me.

(_Hesitates_.)

_Ger._ (_with foreboding_) Well, what is it?

_Con._ (_pulling the fingers of her gloves_) A gentleman--you know him--has been--calling upon aunt--and me. We have seen a good deal of him.

_Ger._ Who is he?

_Con._ Mr. Waterfield. (_Keeps her eyes on the floor_.)

_Ger._ Well?

_Con._ He says--he--he--he wants me to marry him.--Aunt likes him.

_Ger._ And you?

_Con._ I like him too. I don't think I like him enough--I dare say I shall. It is _so_ good of him to take poor me! He is _very_ rich, they say.

_Ger._ Have you accepted him?

_Con._ I am afraid he thinks so.--Ye--e--s.--I hardly know.

_Ger._ Haven't you--been rather--in a hurry--Constance?

_Con._ No, indeed! I haven't been in a hurry at all. He has been a long time trying to make me like him. I have been too long a burden to Mrs.

Clifford.

_Ger._ So! it is her doing, then!

_Con._ You were away, you know.

_Ger._ (_bitterly_) Yes; too far--chipping stones and making mud-pies!

_Con._ I don't know what you mean by that, Arthur.

_Ger._ Oh--nothing. I mean that--that--Of course if you are engaged to him, then--

_Con._ I'm afraid I've done very wrong, Arthur. If I had thought you would care!--I knew aunt would be pleased!--she wanted me to have him, I knew.--I ought to do what I can to please her,--ought I not? I have no right to--

_Ger._ Surely, surely. Yes, yes; I understand. It was not your fault.

Only you mustn't marry him, if you--. Thank you for telling me.

_Con._ I ought to have told you before--before I let him speak to me again. But I didn't think you would care--not much.

_Ger._ Yes, yes.

_Con._ (_looking up with anxiety_) Ah! you _are_ vexed with me, Arthur! I see how wrong it was now. I never saw you look like that. I am very, very sorry. (_Bursts into tears_.)

_Ger._ No, no, child! Only it is rather sudden, and I want to think about it. Shall I send William home with you?

_Con._ No, thank you. I have a cab waiting. You're not angry with your little beggar, Arthur?