The Imaginary Marriage Part 17

"UNGENEROUS"

Hugh Alston had raised his hat, and she had given him the coolest of bows. He was turning away, true to his promise to trouble her no more, and her heart seemed to cry out against it suddenly.

If she could have believed that he had been here of deliberate intent, to find her, to see her, she would have felt cold anger against him; but it was an accident, and Joan knew suddenly that for some reason she was unwilling to let him go.

What she said she hardly knew, something about the unexpectedness of meetings that were common enough in London. At any rate she spoke, and was rewarded by the look that came into his face. A starving dog could not have looked more grat.i.tude to one who had flung him a bone than Hugh Alston, starving for her, thanked her with his eyes for the few conventional words.

Before he could realise what had happened, she had introduced him to her companion.

"Helen, this is Mr. Alston--whom I--I know," she said.

"Alston." Helen Everard congratulated herself afterwards that she had given no sign of surprise, no start, nothing to betray the fact that the name was familiar.

Here was the man then whom Lady Linden believed to be Joan's husband, the man whom Joan had denied she had married, and who she had stated to General Bartholomew was scarcely more than a stranger to her.

And, looking at him, Helen knew that if Hugh Alston and she met again, he would certainly not know her, for he had no eyes for anything save the lovely cold face of the girl before him.

"Oh, Joan," she said, "there is one of those bags I have been wanting to get for a long time past. Excuse me, Joan dear, will you?" And Helen made hurriedly to a shop hard by, leaving them together.

Joan felt angry with herself now it was too late. She ought to have given him the coldest of cold bows and then ignored him; but she had been weak, and she had spoken, and now Helen had deserted her.

"I will say good-bye, Mr. Alston, and go after my friend."

"No, wait--wait. I want to speak to you, to thank you."

"To thank me?" She lifted her eyebrows. "For what?"

"For speaking to me."

"That sounds very humble, doesn't it?" She laughed sharply.

"I am very humble to you, Joan!"

"Mr. Alston, do you realise that I am very angry with myself?" she said coldly. "I acted on a foolish impulse. I ought not to have spoken to you."

"You acted on a generous impulse, that is natural to you. Now you are pretending one that is unworthy of you, Joan."

"I do not think you have any right to speak to me so, nor call me by that name."

"I must call you by the name I constantly think of you by. Joan, do you remember what I said to you when we last met?"

"No, I--" She flushed suddenly. To deny, was unworthy of her. "Yes, I remember."

"It is true, remember what I said. I take not one word of it back. It is true, and will remain true all my life."

"My friend--will be wondering--"

"Joan, be a little merciful."

And now for the first time he noticed that she was not dressed as he had seen her last. There was a suggestion of wealth, of ample means about her appearance. Clothes were the last thing that Hugh thought of, or noticed. Yet gradually Joan's clothes began to thrust themselves on his notice. She was well dressed, and the stylish and becoming clothes heightened her beauty, if possible.

"Joan, I have a confession to make."

She bent her head.

"I couldn't act unfairly or deal in an underhand way with you."

"I thought differently!" she said bitterly.

"I remembered my promise made to you at General Bartholomew's, yet I came to London in the hope of seeing you, that was all that brought me here. I would not have spoken to you if you had not spoken to me first.

I only wanted just to see you. I wonder," he went on, "that I have not been arrested as a suspicious character, as I have been loitering about General Bartholomew's house for days, but I never saw you, Joan!"

"I was not there!"

"No, I gathered that at last. You will believe that I had no intention of annoying you or forcing myself on your notice. I wanted to see you, that was all, and so when I had made up my mind that you were not there, I went to the City Office where I saw you last."

Her face flushed with anger.

"You have taken then to tracking me?" she said angrily.

"I am afraid it looks like it, but not to annoy you, only to satisfy my longing to see you. Just now you said I sounded humble. I wonder if you could guess how humble I feel."

"I wonder," she said sharply, "if you could guess how little I believe anything you say, Mr. Alston? I am sorry I spoke to you. It was a weakness I regret. Now I will say good-bye. You went to Slotman's office, and I suppose discussed me with him?"

"I did not; he was not there. I was glad afterwards he was not. I don't like the man."

"It does not matter. In any event Mr. Slotman could not have helped you; he does not know where I am living."

"Won't you tell me?"

"Why should I, to be further annoyed by you?"

"I think you know that I will not annoy you. Won't you tell me, Joan?"

"I--I don't see why I should. Remember, I have no wish to continue our--our acquaintance; there is no reason you should know."

"Yet if I knew I would be happier. I would not trouble you."

"Surely it does not matter. I am living in the country, then--in Kent, at Starden. I--I have come into a little money." She looked at him keenly. She wondered did he know, had he known that night when he had told her that he loved her?

"I am glad of it," he said. "I could have wished you had come into a great deal."

"I have!" she said quietly.

"I am truly glad," he said. "It was one of the things that troubled me most, the thought of you--you forced to go out into the world to earn your living, you who are so fine and exquisite and sensitive, being brought into contact with the ugly things of life. I am glad that you are saved that--it lightens my heart too, Joan."

"Why?"