The Beetle Part 16

There was an appreciative hesitation before she uttered the fellow's Christian name,-when it came it was with an accent of tenderness which stung me like a gadfly. To speak to me-of all men,-of the fellow in such a tone was-like a woman.

'Has Mr Lindon no notion of how things stand between you?'

'Except what he suspects. That is just where you are to come in, papa thinks so much of you-I want you to sound Paul's praises in his ear-to prepare him for what must come.' Was ever rejected lover burdened with such a task? Its enormity kept me still. 'Sydney, you have always been my friend,-my truest, dearest friend. When I was a little girl you used to come between papa and me, to shield me from his wrath. Now that I am a big girl I want you to be on my side once more, and to shield me still.'

Her voice softened. She laid her hand upon my arm. How, under her touch, I burned.

'But I don't understand what cause there has been for secrecy,- why should there have been any secrecy from the first?'

'It was Paul's wish that papa should not be told.'

'Is Mr Lessingham ashamed of you?'

'Sydney!'

'Or does he fear your father?'

'You are unkind. You know perfectly well that papa has been prejudiced against him all along, you know that his political position is just now one of the greatest difficulty, that every nerve and muscle is kept on the continual strain, that it is in the highest degree essential that further complications of every and any sort should be avoided. He is quite aware that his suit will not be approved of by papa, and he simply wishes that nothing shall be said about it till the end of the session,-that is all'

'I see! Mr Lessingham is cautious even in love-making,-politician first, and lover afterwards.'

'Well!-why not?-would you have him injure the cause he has at heart for want of a little patience?'

'It depends what cause it is he has at heart.'

'What is the matter with you?-why do you speak to me like that?- it is not like you at all.' She looked at me shrewdly, with flashing eyes. 'Is it possible that you are-jealous?-that you were in earnest in what you said last night?-I thought that was the sort of thing you said to every girl.'

I would have given a great deal to take her in my arms, and press her to my bosom then and there,-to think that she should taunt me with having said to her the sort of thing I said to every girl.

'What do you know of Mr Lessingham?'

'What all the world knows,-that history will be made by him.'

'There are kinds of history in the making of which one would not desire to be a.s.sociated. What do you know of his private life,-it was to that that I was referring.'

'Really,-you go too far. I know that he is one of the best, just as he is one of the greatest, of men; for me, that is sufficient.'

'If you do know that, it is sufficient.'

'I do know it,-all the world knows it. Everyone with whom he comes in contact is aware-must be aware, that he is incapable of a dishonourable thought or action.'

'Take my advice, don't appreciate any man too highly. In the book of every man's life there is a page which he would wish to keep turned down.'

'There is no such page in Paul's,-there may be in yours; I think that probable.'

'Thank you. I fear it is more than probable. I fear that, in my case, the page may extend to several. There is nothing Apostolic about me,-not even the name.'

'Sydney!-you are unendurable!-It is the more strange to hear you talk like this since Paul regards you as his friend.'

'He flatters me.'

'Are you not his friend?'

'Is it not sufficient to be yours?'

'No,-who is against Paul is against me.'

'That is hard.'

'How is it hard? Who is against the husband can hardly be for the wife,-when the husband and the wife are one.'

'But as yet you are not one.-Is my cause so hopeless?'

'What do you call your cause?-are you thinking of that nonsense you were talking about last night?'

She laughed!

'You call it nonsense.-You ask for sympathy, and give-so much!'

'I will give you all the sympathy you stand in need of,-I promise it! My poor, dear Sydney!-don't be so absurd! Do you think that I don't know you? You're the best of friends, and the worst of lovers,-as the one, so true; so fickle as the other. To my certain knowledge, with how many girls have you been in love,-and out again. It is true that, to the best of my knowledge and belief, you have never been in love with me before,-but that's the merest accident. Believe me, my dear, dear Sydney, you'll be in love with someone else tomorrow,-if you're not half-way there to night. I confess, quite frankly, that, in that direction, all the experience I have had of you has in nowise strengthened my prophetic instinct. Cheer up!-one never knows!-Who is this that's coming?'

It was Dora Grayling who was coming,-I went off with her without a word,-we were half-way through the dance before she spoke to me.

'I am sorry that I was cross to you just now, and-disagreeable. Somehow I always seem destined to show to you my most unpleasant side.'

'The blame was mine,-what sort of side do I show you? You are far kinder to me than I deserve,-now, and always. 'That is what you say.'

'Pardon me, it's true,-else how comes it that, at this time of day, I'm without a friend in all the world?'

'You!-without a friend!-I never knew a man who had so many!-I never knew a person of whom so many men and women join in speaking well!'

'Miss Grayling!'

'As for never having done anything worth doing, think of what you have done. Think of your discoveries, think of your inventions, think of-but never mind! The world knows you have done great things, and it confidently looks to you to do still greater. You talk of being friendless, and yet when I ask, as a favour-as a great favour!-to be allowed to do something to show my friendship, you-well, you snub me.'

'I snub you!'

'You know you snubbed me.'

'Do you really mean that you take an interest in-in my work?'

'You know I mean it.'

She turned to me, her face all glowing,-and I did know it.

'Will you come to my laboratory to-morrow morning?'

'Will I!-won't I!'