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"What?"
"You never thought of anything but yourself all the way through. You were lecturing her? Oh, no! You were posing and posturing. Being very fine and very heroic! And then at the end you turned round and--and as good as struck her in the face. Oh, I hope she'll never speak to you again!"
"Did she send you to say this?"
"Of course not."
"Yes, of course not! You're right there. If it had happened to be in any way your business----"
"Ah!" cried the Imp triumphantly. "You've no answer, so you turn round and abuse me! But I don't care. I meant to tell you what I thought of you, and I've done it."
"A post-card would have done it as well," Harry suggested.
"But you've gone too far, oh yes, you have. If you ever change your mind----"
"What about? Oh, don't talk nonsense, Madame Zabriska."
"It's not nonsense. You behaved even worse than I think if you're not at least half in love with her."
Harry threw a quick glance at her.
"That would be very unlucky for me," he remarked.
"Very--now," said the Imp with every appearance of delight.
"London will be dull without you, Madame Zabriska."
"I'm not going to take any more trouble about you, anyhow."
He rose and walked over to her.
"In the end," he said more seriously, "what's your complaint against me?"
"You've made Cecily terribly unhappy."
"I couldn't help it. She--she did an impossible thing."
"After which you made her spend the evening with you! Even a Tristram must have had a reason for that."
"I've told you. I felt friendly and I wanted her to be friendly. And I like her. The whole thing's a ludicrous trifle." He paused a moment and added: "I'm sorry if she's distressed."
"You've made everything impossible--that's all."
"I don't understand. It so happens that to-day all sorts of things have begun to seem possible to me. Perhaps you've seen your uncle?"
"Yes, I have,--and--and it would have been splendid if you hadn't treated her as you did."
"You hint at something I know nothing about." He was growing angry again. "I really believe I could manage my own affairs." He returned to his pet grievance.
"You don't understand? Well, you will soon." She grew cooler as her mischievous pleasure in puzzling him overcame her wrath. "You'll know what you've done soon."
"Shall I? How shall I find it out?"
"You'll be sorry when--when a certain thing happens."
He threw himself into a chair with a peevish laugh.
"I confess your riddles rather bore me. Is there any answer to this one?"
"Yes, very soon. I've been to see Lady Evenswood."
"She knows the answer, does she?"
"Perhaps." Her animation suddenly left her. "But I suppose it's all no use now," she said dolefully.
They sat silent for a minute or two, Harry seeming to fall into a fit of abstraction.
"What did you mean by saying I oughtn't to have taken her to dinner and so on?" he asked, as Mina rose to go.
She shook her head. "I've nothing more to say," she declared.
"And you say I'm half in love with her?"
"Yes, I do," she snapped viciously as she turned toward the door. But she looked back at him before she went out.
"As far as that goes," he said slowly, "I'm not sure you're wrong, Madame Zabriska. But I could never marry her."
The Imp launched a prophecy, confidently, triumphantly, maliciously.
"Before very long she'll be the one to say that, and you've got yourself to thank for it too! Good-by!"
She was gone. Harry sat down and slowly filled and lit his pipe. It was probably all nonsense; but again he recollected Cecily's words: "If ever the time comes, I shall remember!"
Whatever might be the state of his feelings toward her, or of hers toward him, a satisfactory outcome seemed impossible. And somehow this notion had the effect of spoiling the success of the day for Harry Tristram; so that among the Imp's whirling words there was perhaps a grain or two of wisdom. At least his talk with her did not make Harry's visions less constant or less intense.
XXII
AN INSULT TO THE BLOOD
It could not be denied that Blinkhampton was among the things which arose out of Blent. To acknowledge even so much Harry felt to be a slur on his independence, on the new sense of being able to do things for himself in which his pride, robbed of its old opportunities, was taking refuge and finding consolation. It was thanks to himself anyhow that it had so arisen, for Iver was not the man to mingle business and sentiment. Harry s.n.a.t.c.hed this comfort, and threw his energies into the work, both as a trial of his powers and as a safeguard against his thoughts. He went down to the place and stayed a week. The result of his visit was a report which Iver showed to Southend with a very significant nod; even the mistakes in it, themselves inevitable from want of experience, were the errors of a large mind. The touch of dogmatism did not displease a man who valued self-confidence above all other qualities.
"The lad will do; he'll make his way," said Iver.
Southend smiled. Lads who are equal to making their own way may go very far if they are given such a start as he had in contemplation for Harry.
But would things go right? Southend had received an incoherent but decidedly despairing letter from Mina Zabriska. He put it in the fire, saying nothing to Lady Evenswood, and nothing, of course, to Mr Disney.