The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood Part 79

"I _must_ see you. Can you be at Caecilia's on Sat.u.r.day?--G."

Phillipa sat alone in Lady Gayfeather's drawing-room, when Mr.

Jillingham was announced.

"What does this mean?" she asked.

"I'm broke, simply."

"You don't look much like it."

To say the truth, he did not; he never did. He had had his ups and downs; but if he was down he hid away in outer darkness; if you saw him at all, he was floating like a jaunty cork on the very top of the wave. He was a marvel to everyone; it was a mystery how he lasted so long. Money went away from him as rain runs off the oiled surface of a shiny mackintosh coat. And yet he had always plenty of it; eclipses he might know, but they were partial; collapse might threaten, but it was always delayed. He had still the best dinners, the best cigars, the best brougham; was _bien vu_ in the best society: had the best boot-varnish in London, and wore the most curly-brimmed hats, the envy of every hatter but his own. To all outward seeming there was no more fortunate prosperous man about town; the hard shifts to which he had been put at times were known only to himself--and to one other man, who had caught him tripping once, and found his account in the fact.

The pressure this man excited drove Gilly Jillingham nearly to despair. He was really on the brink of ruin at this moment, although he stood before Phillipa as reckless and defiant as when he had first won her girlish affections, and thrown them carelessly on one side.

"How can I help you?" asked Phillipa, when he had repeated his news.

"I never imagined you could; but you take such an interest in me, I thought you might like to know."

"And you have dragged me up to London simply to tell me this?"

"Certainly. You always took a delight in coming when I called."

It was evident that he had a strong hold over her. She trembled violently.

"Are these lies I hear?" he went on, speaking with mocking emphasis.

"Can it be possible you mean to marry that cub?"

"Who has been telling you this?"

"Answer my question."

"What right have you to ask?"

"The best. You know it. Have you not been promised to me since--since--"

"Well, do you wish me to redeem my promise? I am ready to marry you now--to-day, if you please. Ruined as you are, reckless, unprincipled, gambler--I know not what--"

"That's as well. But I am obliged to you; I will not trespa.s.s on your good-nature. I shall have enough to do to keep myself."

"We might go to a colony."

"I can fancy you in the bush!"

"Anything would be preferable to the false, hollow life I lead. I want rest. I could pray for it. I long to lay my head peacefully where--"

"Wherever you please. Try Mr. Purling's shoulder. You have my full permission."

Phillipa's eyes flashed fire at this heartless _persiflage_.

"There is no such luck."

"Can he dare to be indifferent? How you must hate him!"

"As I did you."

"And do still? Thank you. But I wish you joy. When is it to be?"

"I tell you there is absolutely nothing between us. Mr. Purling is, to the best of my belief, engaged already."

"Not with his mother's consent, surely? Why, then, has she made so much of you?"

"No; not with her consent; indeed, it is quite against her wish. Mrs.

Purling as much as told me that if her son married this cousin he would be disinherited. They do not agree very well together now."

"It's all hers--the old woman's--in her own right?"

"So far as I know."

Gilly Jillingham lay back in his chair and mused for a while.

"It's not a bad game if the cards play true."

His evil genius, had he been present, might have hinted that sometimes the cards played for Mr. Jillingham a little too true.

"Not a bad game. Phillipa, how do you stand with this old beldame?"

"She pretends the most ardent affection for me."

"There are no other relatives, no one she would take up if this son gave unpardonable offence?"

"Not that I know of. Besides, she calls me her dear daughter already."

"And would adopt you, doubtless, if the cub were got out of the way.

Yes, it can be done, I believe, and you can do it, Phillipa, if you please. Only persuade the old lady to make you the heiress of the Purlings, and there will be an end to your troubles--and mine."

Soon after this conversation Miss Fanshawe returned to Purlington. The heiress smothered her with caresses.

"I shall not let you go away again. We have missed you more than I can say."

"And you also, Mr. Harold? Are you glad to see me again?"

Harold bowed courteously.

"Of course; I have been counting the hours to Miss Fanshawe's return."

"Fibs! I can't believe it."

By-and-by she came to him.