The Second Fiddle Part 29

"Anxious," exclaimed Julian, sharply. "What the devil's she anxious about?"

"Her sister's state of health is not at all what it should be," Mr.

Travers said gravely. "She looks weak and thin, and she occasionally forgets things. This is a most unusual and serious sign in a woman of her capacity."

"d.a.m.n her capacity!" said Julian savagely. "Why on earth couldn't you stop her working?"

"It is not in my province to stop people earning their daily bread,"

said Mr. Travers, coldly, "and I have never discussed this or any other private question with the elder Miss Waring since her return. When she came back to the town hall she refused to displace her sister, who had undertaken her former work and went into the surveyor's office."

"All right, all right," said Julian, hastily. "I dare say you couldn't have helped it; but how on earth did you find out if you've never talked to Miss Waring, what had happened?"

"I investigated the matter," said Mr. Travers, "with the younger Miss Waring. She confessed to me, under some slight pressure on my part, her very mistaken conclusions, and the action she had based upon them. I sent her at once, without mentioning what course of action I had decided to take myself, to her sister."

"You shouldn't have done that," said Julian, with the singular injustice Mr. Travers had previously noted and disliked in members of the upper cla.s.ses. "There wasn't any need to give Eurydice away to her; I could have managed without that."

"You forget," said Mr. Travers, steadily, "the younger Miss Waring had forfeited her sister's confidence; it would have been impossible to avoid clearing up the situation by bringing all the facts to light. It will not, I feel sure, cause permanent ill feeling between the two sisters."

Julian gave a long, curious sigh. His relief was so intense that he could hardly believe in it; but he could believe, not without reluctance, in the hand that had set him free. It had taken a town clerk to show him where he stood.

"It would be difficult," he began--"By Jove! it's impossible to express thanks for this kind of thing! You won't expect it, perhaps, and I know of course, you didn't do it for me. For all that, I'm not ungrateful.

I--well--I think you're more of a man than I am, Travers."

"Not at all, Sir Julian," said Mr. Travers, who privately felt surprised that there should be any doubt upon the matter. "Any one would have done precisely the same who had the good fortune to know the elder Miss Waring."

"Perhaps they would," said Julian, smiling, "or, you might add, the misfortune to come across the erratic proceedings of the younger one."

Mr. Travers looked graver still.

"There I cannot agree with you," he said quietly. "Perhaps I should have mentioned the matter before, but it scarcely seemed germane to the occasion; I am about to marry Miss Eurydice."

A vivid memory of Eurydice shot through Julian's mind. He saw her advancing down the gra.s.s path arrayed in the purple garment, with the scarlet hat and the dangling pomegranates; and the thought of her in conjunction with the town clerk was too much for him. Laughter seized him uncontrollably and shook him. He flung back his head and roared with laughter, and the graver and more disapproving Mr. Travers looked, the more helplessly and shamelessly Julian laughed.

"I'm most frightfully sorry," he gasped, "but I can't help it. Are you sure you're going to marry her? I mean, _must_ you?"

Mr. Travers took his hat and gloves carefully in his hand.

"This is not a subject I care to discuss with you, Sir Julian," he said, with dignity, "nor is your tone a suitable one in which to refer to a lady. A man of my type does not shilly-shally on the question of matrimony; either he is affianced or he is _not_. I have already told you that I am. You may have some excuse for misjudging the younger Miss Waring; but there can be no excuse whatever for your flippant manner of referring to our marriage. It is most uncalled for. I might say offensive."

A spasm of returning laughter threatened Julian again, but he succeeded in controlling it.

"My dear Travers," he said, holding out his hand, "please don't go away with a grievance. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself as it is, and more grateful to you than I can possibly express. You'll forgive me for not getting up, won't you? And try to overlook my bad manners."

It was the first time during the interview that Mr. Travers realized Julian's disabilities, but they did not make him feel more lenient.

Mr. Travers liked an invalid to behave as if he were an invalid, and he thought that a man in Julian's position should not indulge in unseemly mirth.

"Pray don't get up," he said coldly. "I am bound to accept your apology, of course, though I must confess I think your laughter very ill timed."

Julian took this rebuke with extraordinary humility. He insisted on giving Mr. Travers an unnecessarily cordial hand-shake, and invited him to drop in again at some hour when he would have a drink.

Mr. Travers waived aside this suggestion, he did not wish to continue Julian's acquaintance and he disapproved of Julian's club. The large luxurious lounges, the silent obsequious servants and the sprinkling of indolent men swallowed up in soft arm-chairs, bore out Mr. Travers's opinion of the higher cla.s.ses. They were drones--whether they were in khaki or not.

Mr. Travers sighed heavily as he crossed the threshold. "She was a perfect business woman," he said to himself bitterly, "nipped in the bud."

For the first time since Mr. Travers had known her, he found himself doubting the judgment of the elder Miss Waring.

CHAPTER XXVIII

Julian's first impulse was to drive to the town hall and carry Stella off. He was debarred from doing so only by a secret fear that she might refuse to come. He was a little afraid of this first meeting with Stella. She might haul him over the coals as much as she liked; but he wanted to stage-manage the position of the coals.

He decided after a few moments of reflection to ring her up on the telephone. The porter at the other end said that Miss Waring was still at work, and seemed to think that this settled the question of any further effort on his part. Julian speedily undeceived him. He used language to the town hall porter which would have lifted every separate hair from Mr. Travers's head. It did not have this effect upon the porter. He was a man who appreciated language, and he understood that there was an expert at the other end of the line. It even spurred him into a successful search for Stella.

"That you, Stella?" Julian asked, "Do you know who's speaking to you?"

There was a pause before she answered a little unsteadily:

"Yes, Julian."

"Well," said Julian, with an anxiety he could hardly keep out of his voice, "I want to see you for a few minutes if you can spare the time.

Will you come to the Carlton to tea? I suppose I mustn't ask you to my rooms."

"I can't do either," replied Stella. "I'm too busy. Can't you wait till Sat.u.r.day?"

"Impossible," Julian replied firmly. "May I come and fetch you in a taxi? I suppose you don't dine and sleep at the town hall, do you?"

"No, you mustn't do that," said Stella, quickly; "but you can come to the Cottage Dairy Company, which is just opposite here, if you like. I shall go there for a cup of tea at five o'clock. I can spare you half an hour, perhaps."

"Oh, you will, will you?" said Julian, grimly. "I suppose I must be thankful for what I can get. Five sharp, then, at the what-you-may-call-'em."

Stella put up the receiver, but he thought before she did so that he heard her laugh.

Julian had never been to the Cottage Dairy Company before. It was a very nice, clean, useful little shop, and there was no necessity for him to take such an intense dislike to it. The rooms are usually full, and for reasons of s.p.a.ce the tables are placed close together. The tables are marble-topped and generally clean. There is not more smell of inferior food than is customary in the cheaper restaurants of London.

Julian arrived at five minutes to the hour, and he turned the place literally upside down. It did no good, because Cottage Dairy Companies are democratic, and do not turn upside down to advantage.

He only succeeded in upsetting a manageress and several waitresses, and terrifying an unfortunate shop-girl who was occupying the only table in the room at which Julian could consent to sit by standing over her until she had finished her tea, half of which she left in consequence.

Stella was ten minutes late; by the time she arrived Julian had driven away the shop-girl, had the table cleared, and frozen every one in the neighborhood who cast longing glances at the empty place in front of him. He was consumed with fury at the thought that in all probability Stella had had two meals a day for six months in what he most unfairly characterized as a "loathsome, stinking hole."

As a matter of fact, Stella had not been able to afford the Cottage Dairy Company. She had had her meals at the People's Restaurant, which is a little cheaper and not quite so nice.

Julian's anger failed him when he saw Stella's face. She looked ill. He could not speak at first, and Stella made no attempt whatever to help him. She merely dropped her umbrella at his feet, sat down opposite him, and trembled.

"How dare you come to this infernal place?" Julian asked her at last, with readjusted annoyance, "and why didn't you tell me you were ill?"