The Philanderers Part 8

'No. He did not come that night. Conway brought him up to Mr. Le Mesurier's box when _Frou-Frou_ was being played a month ago.'

'Never mind, we will talk of something else.'

Mrs. Willoughby had just observed Clarice. She was nodding a.s.sent to the words of her neighbour, but plainly lending an attentive ear to Mrs.

Willoughby's conversation. Mrs. Willoughby spoke of indifferent subjects until the ladies rose.

When Mallinson, however, entered the drawing-room, he perceived Mrs.

Willoughby's fan motioning him to attendance, and she took up the thread of her talk at the point where she had dropped it.

'You said unfortunately.'

'Well, you have read the _Meteor_.'

'You endorse their view?'

'From what I have seen of Drake since his return, yes.'

'But if there's anything in their charges, why doesn't the Colonial Office move?'

'The Colonial Office!' Mallinson shrugged his shoulders. 'You forget only natives and Arabs were killed in the Boruwimi expedition, and they don't count. If he had killed a white man--What's the matter?'

'Nothing,' said Mrs. Willoughby, recovering from a start; 'an idea occurred to me, that's all.'

'Tell me.'

For a moment Mrs. Willoughby seemed at a loss. Then she said, with a laugh:

'If you will know, I was wondering whether your explanation covered all you meant by "unfortunately."' She lowered her voice. 'You can be frank with me.'

Mallinson was diverted by her a.s.surance of sympathy, and launched out immediately into an elaborate history of the emotions which the friendliness of Miss Le Mesurier to Drake had set bubbling within him.

Mr. Le Mesurier approached the pair before Mallinson had finished, and the latter hurriedly broke off.

'Well,' said Mr. Le Mesurier, 'will you meet Mr. Drake, Constance, at lunch, say on Sunday?'

Mrs. Willoughby stared.

'Do you mean that?'

'Certainly.' Mr. Le Mesurier was defiant. Mrs. Willoughby's stare changed to a look of thoughtfulness.

'No,' she said, 'I don't think I could.' She moved away. Mallinson followed her.

'You know something about Drake,' he exclaimed, 'something which would help me.'

'That is hardly generous rivalry,' she replied.

'Does he deserve generosity?' he asked, with a trace of cunning in his expression which Mrs. Willoughby found distasteful.

'If I can help you,' she answered evasively, 'help you honourably, I will,' and she turned away. Mallinson put out a hand to stop her.

'I need help,' he whispered. 'There is a conspiracy to praise the man.

You heard Conway at dinner. It's the same with every one, from Mr. Le Mesurier to Fielding.'

'Oh,' she said, her voice kindling to an expression of interest, 'does Mr. Fielding like him? He is fastidious too.' She paused for a second in deliberation, her eyes searching the floor. Raising them, she perceived Mr. Le Mesurier coming towards her.

'I claim our privilege,' she said. 'I will lunch on Sunday, and meet your paragon, after all.'

'I am very glad,' he said impressively. 'Lunch at two.'

Mrs. Willoughby waited until he was out of ear-shot, and turned again to Mallinson.

'It is best that I should see the man, and know something more of him than hearsay. Don't you think so?'

A note of apology discounted the explanation. Mallinson understood that the reference to Fielding was the cause of her change of mind.

'Do you value Fielding's opinion?' he asked.

'Oh, I don't know. On some subjects I think yes. Don't you?'

Mallinson began to wonder immediately whether Fielding's opinions might not be valuable after all, since Mrs. Willoughby valued them. If so, the man might be able to throw some light upon other points--for instance, the perplexing question of Miss Le Mesurier's inclinations. Mallinson made up his mind to call upon Fielding. He called on the Sunday morning, and Fielding blandly related to him his history of Sark.

Having worked Mallinson to a sufficiently amusing pitch of indignation, and having hinted his moral that the subjugation of Miss Le Mesurier would be effected only by the raider, Fielding complacently dismissed him and repaired to Beaufort Gardens for lunch. He found Drake upon the doorstep with a hand upon the knocker, and the two gentlemen exchanged greetings.

'I have just left Mallinson,' said Fielding.

Drake's hand fell from the knocker.

'Tell me!' he said. 'Mallinson perplexes me in many ways. For instance, he shows me little good-will now--'

'Does that surprise you?' Fielding interjected, with a laugh.

Drake coloured and replied quickly, 'You didn't let me finish. If he dislikes me, what made him talk about me as his friend to--to the Le Mesuriers before I returned to England?'

'Your name in print. You verged on--well, notoriety. You may laugh, but that's the reason. Mallinson's always on the rack of other people's opinions--judges himself by what he imagines to be their standard of him.

Acquaintanceship with a celebrity lifts him in their eyes, he thinks, so really in his own.'

Drake remained doubtfully pondering what credit acquaintanceship with him could confer on any one. He was led back to his old view of Mallinson as a man tottering on a rickety base.

'Will he do something great?' he asked, his forehead puckered in an effort to calculate the qualities which make for greatness.

Fielding chuckled quietly, and answered:

'Unlikely, I think. Clever, of course, the man is, but it is never the work he does that pleases him, but the pose after the work's done.

That's fatal.'

Drake looked at Fielding curiously.

'That's a criticism which would never have occurred to me.' He glanced at his watch. 'We have five minutes. Shall we walk round the Gardens?'

Fielding chuckled again and a.s.sented. He saw the curtain rising on his comedy. For five minutes they paced up and down the pavement, with an interchange of simple questions on Drake's part, and discriminating answers on Fielding's--answers not wholly to encourage, but rather to promote a state of doubt, so much more interesting to the spectator.