December Love Part 100

"But I do say it," said the girl, with a now intense obstinacy.

"You met him in Mr. Garstin's studio, didn't you?"

"Perhaps I did. There is nothing against him in that."

"I do not say there is. But I do say you know nothing about him."

"But how do you know that? You a.s.sume a great deal, Adela."

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Suppose I were to ask you questions in my turn?"

"Questions? But I have told you--"

"Yes, you have told me certain things, but you have explained nothing.

You seem to expect everything from me. Am I not to expect anything from you?"

"Anything! But what?"

"An explanation, surely."

Lady Sellingworth was silent. She was still standing. The two spots of red still glowed in her white face. Her eyes looked like the eyes of one who was in dread. They had lost their usual expression of self-command, and resembled the eyes of a creature being hunted. Miss Van Tuyn saw that and wondered. A fierce animosity woke in her and made her more obstinate, more determined to get at the truth of this mystery. She would not leave this house until light was given to her. She had a strong will. It was now fully roused, and she was ready to pit it against Adela's will. And she had another weapon in her armoury. She was now very angry, with an anger which she did not fully understand, and which was made up of several elements. One of these elements was certainly pa.s.sion. This anger rendered her merciless.

"Well, Adela?" she said at length, as Lady Sellingworth did not speak.

"What is it you want, Beryl?" said Lady Sellingworth, looking into her eyes and then quickly away.

"But I have told you--an explanation."

She unfolded the letter slowly.

"I can't give you one. I have told you the truth, and I ask you to accept it, and I beg, I implore you to act upon it."

"Suppose I were to make a violent attack on one of your friends, on Mr.

Craven for instance?"

"Please don't bracket Mr. Craven and that man together!" said Lady Sellingworth sharply.

Beryl Van Tuyn flushed with anger.

"But I do!" she said. "I choose to do that for the sake of argument."

"Two such men have nothing in common, nothing! One is a gentleman, the other is a blackguard!"

Miss Van Tuyn thought of the previous evening, when Lady Sellingworth had dined with Craven while she had dined with Arabian, and she was stung to the quick.

"I cannot allow you to speak like this of a friend of mine without an explanation," she said bitterly. "And now"--she spoke more hurriedly, as if fearing to be interrupted--"I will finish what I was going to say, if you will allow me. Suppose I were to make an attack on, say, Mr. Craven, to tell you that I happened to know he was thoroughly bad, immoral, a liar, anything you like. Do you mean to say you would give him up at once without insisting on knowing from me my exact reasons for branding him as unfit for your company? Of course you wouldn't. And not only you!

No one would do such a thing who had any courage or any will in them."

She lifted the letter.

"In this letter you say that Mr. Arabian is unfit to be the companion of any decent woman, that he is a blackguard in the full acceptance of the word, that he is beyond the pale, and finally, that he ought to be in prison. Very well! I don't say for a moment that I doubt your word, but I do ask you to justify it. Of course I know that you easily can. Otherwise I am sure that you would never have written such awful accusations against anyone. It would be too wicked, and I know you are not wicked. Please tell me your exact reason for writing this letter, Adela."

"I can't."

"You really mean that?"

"I won't. It's impossible."

Miss Van Tuyn's face became very hard.

"Well, then, Adela--"

She paused. Suddenly there had come into her mind the thought of a possible way of forcing the confidence which Lady Sellingworth refused to give her. Should she take it? She hesitated. Arabian's will was upon her even here in this quiet drawing-room. His large eyes seemed fixed upon her. She still felt the long and soft touch of his lips clinging to hers like the lips of a thirsty man. Would he wish her to take this way?

For a moment she felt afraid of him. But then her strong independence of an American girl rose up to combat this imaginative, almost occult, domination. Arabian himself, his fate perhaps, was concerned in this matter. She could not, she would not allow even Arabian, whose will imposed itself on hers, who had gathered her strangely, mysteriously, into a grip which she felt almost like a thing palpable upon her, to prevent her from finding out the truth which Lady Sellingworth seemed resolved to keep from her. She still believed, indeed she felt practically certain, that Lady Sellingworth and Arabian in the past had been lovers. Her jealousy was furiously awake. She felt reckless of consequences and ready to take any course which would bring to her what she needed, full knowledge of what had led Adela Sellingworth to send her that letter.

Lady Sellingworth was looking at her now steadily, with, she thought, a sort of almost fierce pleading. But she cared very little for Adela's feelings just then.

"You really refuse to tell me?"

"I must, Beryl."

"I don't think that's fair. It isn't fair to me or to him."

"I can't help that. Please don't ask me anything more. And please destroy that letter. Or let me destroy it."

She held out her hand, but Miss Van Tuyn sat quite still.

"I must tell you something," she said. "If you will not explain to me I think I ought to go for an explanation to someone else."

"Someone else!" said Lady Sellingworth in a startled voice. "But--do you know--to whom would you go?"

"I think I ought to go to him, to the man you accuse of nameless things."

"But you can't do that!"

"Why not? It would only be fair."

"But what reason could you give?"

"Naturally I should have to say that you had warned me against him."

"No--no, you mustn't do that."

"Really? I am to be bound hand and foot while you--"

"You saw what I wrote in that letter."