The Wicked Marquis Part 38

"Supposing," David said, "the shares had risen and were worth two dollars to-day, you would not in that case, I presume, have honoured me with this visit?"

"Certainly not," she replied.

"I did not sell those shares to your father as an act of philanthropy,"

he continued. "He asked me to show him a speculation, and I showed him this. Those shares, so far as I know, are as likely to be worth five times their value next week, or nothing at all. I am a very large holder, and it seemed to me that it would be a reasonable act of prudence to sell a few of them at a price which showed me a small margin of profit."

"Profit?" she repeated wonderingly. "Are you in need of profit?"

"It is the poison of wealth," he observed. "One is always trying to add to what one has."

She turned her head and looked at him intently. For a moment she was almost startled. There was something unreal in the sound of his words.

Something that was almost a foreboding chilled her.

"Mr. Thain," she said calmly.

"Yes?"

"Had you any reason--any special reason, I mean--for selling those shares to my father?"

His face was inscrutable.

"What reason should I have, Lady Let.i.tia?"

"I can't imagine any," she replied, "and yet--for a moment I thought that you were talking artificially. I probably did you an injustice.

I am sorry."

David's teeth came together. There was lightning in his eyes as he glanced down through the trees towards Vont's little cottage.

"Don't apologise too soon, Lady Let.i.tia," he warned her.

She raised her eyebrows.

"I am not accustomed to think the worst of people," she said. "I can scarcely picture to myself any person, already inordinately wealthy, singling out my father as a victim for his further cupidity. Let me return to the question which I have already asked you. Would you care, without letting my father know of this visit and my request, to return his cheque or promissory note, or whatever it was, in exchange for these shares?"

"I am not even sure, Lady Let.i.tia," he reminded her, after a moment's pause, "that your father wishes this."

"You can, I think, take my word that it would be a relief to him," she a.s.serted.

He pondered for a few moments. The light through the trees seemed to be burning brighter in Vont's sitting room.

"I will be frank with you, Lady Let.i.tia," he said. "There has been no increase in the value of these shares. The news which I have expected concerning them has not arrived. The transaction, therefore, is one which at the present moment would probably entail a loss. Do you wish me to make your father a present of twenty or thirty thousand pounds?"

She rose deliberately to her feet and shook the few grains of cigarette ash from her dress. The cigarette itself she threw into a laurel bush.

"I understand," she remarked, "what you implied when you said that women did not understand business."

Her tone was unhurried, her manner expressed no indignation. Yet as she strolled towards the gate, David felt the colour drained from his cheeks, felt the wicker sides of his chair crash in the grip of his fingers. He rose and hurried after her.

"Lady Let.i.tia," he began impulsively--

She turned upon him as though surprised.

"Pray do not trouble to escort me home," she begged.

"It isn't that," he went on, falling into step by her side. "You make me feel like a thief."

"Are you not a thief?" she asked. "I have been told that nearly all very rich men are thieves. I begin to understand that it may be so."

"It is possible to juggle with money honestly," he a.s.sured her.

"It is also possible, I suppose," she observed, with faint sarcasm, "to lower the standard of honesty. Thank you," she added, as she pa.s.sed through the second gate, "you perhaps did not understand me. I should prefer to return alone."

"I am going your way," he insisted desperately.

"My way?" she repeated. "But there is nowhere to go to, unless you are proposing to honour us with a call at Mandeleys."

"I am going in to see old Richard Vont," he said.

She laughed in surprised fashion.

"What, the old man who sits and curses us! Is he a friend of yours?"

"He was on the steamer, coming home," David reminded her. "I told you so before. I take an interest in him."

His point now was momentarily gained, and he walked unhindered by her side. The soft twilight had fallen around them, little wreaths of mist were floating across the meadows, the birds were all silent. The pathway led through another narrow grove of trees. As they neared the gate, Let.i.tia hesitated.

"I think it is just as near across the meadow," she said.

He held open the gate for her.

"You had better stay on the path," he advised. "The gra.s.s is wet and your shoes are thin."

She looked into his face, still hesitating. Then she swiftly dropped her eyes. The man must be mad! Nevertheless, she seemed for a moment to lose her will. The gate had fastened behind them with a sharp click. They were in the grove. The way was very narrow and the fir trees almost black. There was only a glimpse of deep blue sky to be seen ahead and in front. The pigeons rustled their wings, and a great owl lumbered across the way. Something happened to Let.i.tia then which had never happened before. She felt both her hands gripped by a man's, felt herself powerless in his grasp.

"Lady Let.i.tia," he exclaimed feverishly, "don't think I'm a fool! I'll not ask for what you haven't got to give--me. You shall have your father's note--you shall have--for him--what will make him free, if you'll only treat me like a human being--if you'll be--kind--a little kinder."

Her eyes flashed at him through the darkness, yet he could see that one thing at least he had achieved. Her bosom was rising and falling quickly, her voice shook as she answered him. For the first time he had penetrated that intolerable reserve.

"Are you mad?" she cried. "Are you trying to buy me?"

"How else should I win even a kind glance?" he answered bitterly.

"You mistake me for a railroad system," she mocked.

"I have never mistaken you for anything but a woman," was the vibrating reply. "The only trouble is that to me you always posture as something else."

His hands were burning upon her wrists, but she showed no resentment.