The White Peacock Part 52

"Oh, you must not-you must not do anything rash."

"No-I shall get married."

"You will? Oh, I am glad. I thought-you-you were too fond-. But you're not-of yourself I meant. I am so glad. Yes-do marry!"

"Well, I shall-since you are--"

"Yes," said Lettie. "It is best. But I thought that you--" she smiled at him in sad reproach.

"Did you think so?" he replied, smiling gravely.

"Yes," she whispered. They stood looking at one another.

He made an impulsive movement towards her. She, however, drew back slightly, checking him.

"Well-I shall see you again sometime-so good-bye," he said, putting out his hand.

We heard a foot crunching on the gravel. Leslie halted at the top of the riding. Lettie, hearing him, relaxed into a kind of feline graciousness, and said to George:

"I am so sorry you are going to leave-it breaks the old life up. You said I would see you again--" She left her hand in his a moment or two.

"Yes," George replied. "Good-night"-and he turned away. She stood for a moment in the same drooping, graceful att.i.tude watching him, then she turned round slowly. She seemed hardly to notice Leslie.

"Who was that you were talking to?" he asked.

"He has gone now," she replied irrelevantly, as if even then she seemed hardly to realise it.

"It appears to upset you-his going-who is it?"

"He!-Oh,-why, it's George Saxton."

"Oh, him!"

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

"Eh? What did he want? Oh, nothing."

"A mere trysting-in the interim, eh!"-he said this laughing, generously pa.s.sing off his annoyance in a jest.

"I feel so sorry," she said.

"What for?"

"Oh-don't let us talk about him-talk about something else. I can't bear to talk about-him."

"All right," he replied-and after an awkward little pause. "What sort of a time had you in Nottingham?"

"Oh, a fine time."

"You'll enjoy yourself in the shops between now and-July. Some time I'll go with you and see them."

"Very well."

"That sounds as if you don't want me to go. Am I already in the way on a shopping expedition, like an old husband?"

"I should think you would be."

"That's nice of you! Why?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"Yes you do."

"Oh, I suppose you'd hang about."

"I'm much too well brought up."

"Rebecca has lighted the hall lamp."

"Yes, it's grown quite dark. I was here early. You never gave me a good word for it."

"I didn't notice. There's a light in the dining-room, we'll go there."

They went into the dining-room. She stood by the piano and carefully took off the wrap. Then she wandered listlessly about the room for a minute.

"Aren't you coming to sit down?" he said, pointing to the seat on the couch beside him.

"Not just now," she said, trailing aimlessly to the piano. She sat down and began to play at random, from memory. Then she did that most irritating thing-played accompaniments to songs, with s.n.a.t.c.hes of the air where the voice should have predominated.

"I say Lettie, ..." he interrupted after a time.

"Yes," she replied, continuing to play.

"It's not very interesting... ."

"No?"-she continued to play.

"Nor very amusing... ."

She did not answer. He bore it for a little time longer, then he said:

"How much longer is it going to last, Lettie?"

"What?"

"That sort of business... ."