the_love_affairs_of_pixie.txt Part 17

Pixie's prophecy that her relatives would "crow" on hearing Mr Glynn's ultimatum, was fulfilled in spirit, if not in letter.

Geoffrey and Joan Hilliard a.s.sumed their most staid and dignified airs for the important interview, referred to "my sister Patricia" with a deference worthy of a royal princess, and would have Stanor's guardian to understand that the man was not born who was worthy to be her spouse; all the same, as mortal young men went, they had nothing to say against Stanor Vaughan, and if time proved him to be in earnest, both in love and work, they would be graciously pleased to welcome him into the family. Then, the business part of the interview being ended, the amba.s.sador was invited to stay to lunch, and Esmeralda swept from the room, leaving the two men to a less formal colloquy over their cigarettes.

"It's a comfort to find that we think alike on this matter," began Geoffrey, holding out a match for his guest's benefit. "I have felt rather guilty about it, for Pixie was left too much to herself during our little fellow's illness. She was in trouble herself, poor little soul, and, being lonely, was no doubt unduly susceptible to sympathy.

Neither my wife nor I suspected any attachment before the night of the boy's accident, and if things had gone on in a normal way I doubt if the engagement would have come off. Pixie is very young; we have hardly accustomed ourselves to the idea that she is grown-up. This is the first visit she had paid to us by herself, so that we feel responsible."

"You are uncertain of her feelings? I had the same doubt myself, but when I said as much Miss O'Shaughnessy was indignant. She insists that she does love the boy."

Geoffrey Hilliard laughed.

"It would be difficult to find the person whom Pixie does _not_ love.

He is handsome, and he was kind to her when she was lonely. She loves him as she loves a dozen other friends. But--"

"_But_!" repeated Stephen Glynn eloquently.

He who had missed the greatest of earthly gifts yet realised enough of its mystery to join in that eloquent protest. He smoked in silence for several moments, while his thoughts wandered backwards.

"_She would have helped you through_!"

The echo of those words rang in his ears; he heard again the musical tone of the soft Irish voice, saw again the sweet, deep glance. Strange that those words had in the very moment of utterance uprooted the conviction of years! Lying prisoner on his couch, he had been thankful, in a grim, embittered fashion which had belied the true meaning of the word, that love had not entered into his life. It would have been but another cross to bear, since no woman could be expected to be faithful to a maimed and querulous invalid. Now in a lightning flash he realised that there were women--this Irish Pixie, for example--whose love could triumphantly overcome such an ordeal. _She_ would have "_helped him through_" and, supported and cheered by her influence, his recovery would doubtless have been far more speedy. He straightened himself, and said quickly--

"Miss O'Shaughnessy would make a charming wife. For Stanor's sake I could not wish anything better than that she may be ready to fulfil her promise at the end of the two years."

"There's no doubt about that," said Geoffrey gravely. "She will be ready. There's more than a grain of obstinacy in Pixie's nature--very amiable obstinacy, no doubt, but it may be just as mischievous on such occasions as the present. She has given her word and she'll stick to it, even if she recognises that she has made a mistake. We may talk, but it will have no effect. Unless your nephew himself releases her, she will feel as much bound as if they had been married in Westminster Abbey. It's the way she's made--the most faithful little creature under the sun! It will be our duty to protect her against herself, by making the young fellow understand that for her sake, almost more than his own, he must be honest, and not allow a mistaken sense of honour to urge him to repeat his proposal if his heart is not in it. He could make Pixie his wife, but he could never make her happy. The most cruel fate that could happen to that little soul would be to be married to a man who did not love her absolutely!"

Stephen Glynn nodded, his lips pressed together in grim determination.

"He shall understand. If I know Stanor, there will be no difficulty, in persuading him. He is a good lad, but it is not in him to sacrifice himself. I have been so anxious to secure him an unclouded youth that he is hardly to be blamed for putting his own interests in the foreground."

"It's a fault that many of us suffer from in the early twenties," said Geoffrey, lightly. He thought the conversation had lasted long enough, and was glad when the sound of the gong came as an interruption and he could escort his guest to the dining-room, where the two ladies were already waiting.

Luncheon was a cheerful meal despite the somewhat difficult position of the diners, and Stephen Glynn felt the pang of the lonely as he absorbed the atmosphere of love and sympathy. The beautiful hostess looked tired and worn, but her eyes brightened as she looked at her husband, and, in a quiet, unostentatious fashion, he watched incessantly over her comfort. It was easy to see that the trial through which this husband and wife had pa.s.sed had but riveted the bond between them and brought them into closest sympathy, while the little sister comported herself with a brisk cheeriness which was as far as possible removed from the att.i.tude of the proverbial damsel crossed in love. The time pa.s.sed so pleasantly that the visitor was unfeignedly sorry when it was time to make his farewells.

Pixie ran upstairs for the small son and heir, who had by now returned home, and in her absence Stephen exchanged a few last words with Esmeralda.

"I am immensely relieved and thankful that you and your husband feel with me in this matter. And Miss O'Shaughnessy has been wonderfully forgiving! She does not appear to bear me any rancour."

Esmeralda gave a short, impatient laugh.

"_Rancour_! _Pixie_! You know very little of my sister, Mr Glynn, to suggest such a possibility. She is incapable of rancour!"

Pixie returned at this moment, leading Geoff by the hand, and when the great car glided up to the door, she and the boy went out together to see the last of the departing guest. Stephen stepped haltingly into the car, and leaned over the side to wave his own farewells. Pixie smiled, and waved in reply, and the sun shone down on her uncovered face.

Stephen would have been thankful if he could have carried away that picture as a last impression, but as the car moved slowly from the door, she stepped back into the shadow of the porch, and he caught a last glimpse of her standing there, gazing after him with a grave, fixed gaze.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

"I WILL BE TRUE."

Stephen Glynn's dreaded interview with his nephew was a typical example of the unexpectedness of events, for instead of the indignant opposition which he had feared, his proposition was listened to in silence, and accepted with an alacrity, which was almost more disconcerting than revolt.

In truth Stanor saw in the proposal an escape from what had proved a disappointing and humiliating position. His pride had been hurt by the att.i.tude of Pixie's relatives, and he could not imagine himself visiting at their houses with any degree of enjoyment. A dragging engagement in England would therefore be a trying experience to all concerned, and it seemed a very good way out of the difficulty to pa.s.s the time of waiting abroad.

From his own point of view, moreover, he was relieved not to begin his business life in London, where so far he had been free to pursue his pleasures only. To be cooped up in a dull city office, while but a mile or two away his friends were taking part in the social functions of the season, would be an exasperating experience, whereas in New York he would be troubled by no such comparisons, but would find much to enjoy in the novelty of his surroundings. Two years would soon pa.s.s, and at the end he would come home to an a.s.sured position, marry Pixie, and live happily ever after.

He sat gazing thoughtfully into s.p.a.ce, the fingers of his right hand slowly stroking his chin, a picture of handsome, young manhood, while the deep blue eyes of Stephen Glynn watched him intently from across the room. A long minute of silence; then the two pairs of eyes met, and Stanor found himself flushing with a discomfort as acute as mysterious.

He straightened himself, and put a hasty question--

"What does Pixie say?"

"Miss O'Shaughnessy was--" Stephen hesitated over the word--"she seemed to think that my wishes should have weight. She will consent to anything that seems for your good. She said that two years would quickly pa.s.s."

Stanor frowned. The thought had pa.s.sed through his own brain, but no man could approve of such sentiments on the part of a _fiancee_. There was an edge of irritation in his voice--

"Of course your wishes should be considered. I don't need any one to teach me that. I am quite willing to go to America and do my best. I shall be glad of the change, but it's nonsense to talk of not being bound. We _are_ bound! We need not correspond regularly, if you make a point of that. I don't think much of letters in any case. Writing once a week, or once in two or three months, can make no difference. There's only _one_ thing that counts!"

Stephen a.s.sented gravely.

"Just so. From what I have seen of Miss O'Shaughnessy, I realise that her only hope of happiness is to marry a man who can give her a whole-hearted love."

Stanor's glance held a mingling of surprise and displeasure--surprise that the Runkle should offer any opinion at all on matters sentimental; displeasure, that any one should dictate to him concerning Pixie's welfare. He switched the conversation back to more practical matters.

"When shall I start? The sooner the better. If the post is open there is no object in wasting time." His face lit up with sudden animation.

"I say! Could we manage it in a fortnight, should you think? Miss Ward is sailing by the 'Louisiana,' and it would be topping if I could go by the same boat. I might wire to-day about a berth."

"Who is Miss Ward?"

"Honor Ward--an American. Awfully jolly! No end of an heiress! I've met her a good deal this year, and she was staying at the Hilliards' at the time of the accident. Awfully fond of Pixie, and a real good sort!"

He laughed shortly.--"We _ought_ to go out together, for we are mentally in the same boat. She had intended to stay over the summer, but ... her romance has gone wrong too!"

"Indeed!"

Stephen was not interested in Miss Ward's romance, but he made no objection to the sending of a wire to the Liverpool office of the steamship company, and before evening the berth was secured and Stanor's departure definitely dated.

"I'll spend the rest of the time with Pixie," was Stanor's first determination, but each hour that pa.s.sed brought with it a recollection of some new duty which must needs be performed. One cannot leave one's native land, even for a couple of years, without a goodly amount of preparation and leave-taking, and the time allotted to Pixie dwindled down to a few hasty visits of a few hours' duration, when the lovers sat together in the peac.o.c.k walk, and talked, and built castles in the air, and laughed, and sighed, and occasionally indulged in a little, mild sparring, as very youthful lovers are apt to do.

"I must say you are uncommonly complacent about my going! A fellow hardly expects the girl he's engaged to, to be in such uproarious spirits just on the eve of their separation," Stanor would grumble suddenly at the end of one of his _fiancee's_ mirthful sallies, whereupon Pixie, her vanity hurt by his want of appreciation, would snap out a quick retort.

"If I'm sad you want me to be glad, and if I'm glad you're annoyed that I'm not sad! There's no pleasing you! You ought to be thankful that I'm so strong and self-controlled. ... Would it make it easier; if I were hanging round your neck in hysterics?"

"Oh, bar hysterics! But a tear or two now and then... Suppose it was Bridgie who was going instead of me?--would you be as strong and self-controlled?"

"If Bridgie were going I'd ... I'd jump--" In the midst of her pa.s.sionate declaration Pixie drew herself up, shot a frightened glance, and concluded lamely, "I'd ... be very much distressed!"

"That's not what you were going to say. You were going to say that you'd jump into the water and swim after her, or some such nonsense.

You can be perfectly cool and calm about _my going_, but when it comes to Bridgie--"