Mr. Waddington of Wyck Part 39

"He mayn't be, but his caste is. Immensely popular with the county, which I suppose is all you care about. You must remember, Mrs. Levitt, that he's Mr. Waddington of Wyck; you're not fighting one Mr.

Waddington, but three hundred years of Waddingtons. You're up against all his ancestors."

"I don't care _that_ for his ancestors," said Mrs. Levitt with a gesture of the thumb.

"You may not. I certainly don't. But other people do. Major Markham, the Hawtreys, the Thurstons, even the Corbetts, do you suppose they're all going to turn against him because he lost his head for a minute on a Wednesday? Ten to one they'll all think, and _say_, you made him do it."

"I made him? Preposterous!"

"Not so preposterous as you imagine. You must make allowances for people's prejudices. If you wanted to stand clear you shouldn't have taken all that money from him."

"All that money indeed! A loan, a mere temporary loan, for an investment he recommended."

"Not only that loan, but--" Barbara produced the cheque books with their d.a.m.ning counterfoils. "Look here--twenty-five pounds on the thirty-first of January. And here--October last year, and July, and January before that--More than a hundred and fifty altogether. How are you going to account for that?

"And who's going to believe that Mr. Waddington paid all that for nothing, if some particularly nasty person gets up and says he didn't?

You see what a horrible position you'd be in, don't you?"

Mrs. Levitt didn't answer. Her face thickened slightly with a dreadful flush. Her nerve was going.

Barbara watched it go. She followed up her advantage. "And supposing I were to tell everybody--his friend, Major Markham, say--that you were pressing him for that five hundred, immediately _after_ the affair of Wednesday, on threats of exposure, wouldn't that look very like blackmail?"

"Blackmail? _Really_, Miss Madden--"

"I don't suppose you _mean_ it for blackmail; I'm only pointing out what it'll look like. It won't look _well_.... Much better face the facts.

You _can't_ do Mr. Waddington any real harm, short of forcing his wife to get a separation."

There was a black gleam in Mrs. Levitt's eyes. "Precisely. And supposing--since we _are_ supposing--I told Mrs. Waddington of his behaviour?"

"Too late. Mr. Waddington has told her himself."

"His own version."

"Certainly, his own version."

"And supposing I gave mine?"

"Do. Whatever you say it'll be your word against ours and she won't believe you. If she did she'd think it was all your fault.... And remember, I have the evidence for your attempts at blackmail.

"I don't think," said Barbara, going to the door and opening it, "there's anything more to be said."

Mrs. Levitt walked out with her agitated waddle. Barbara followed her amicably to the front door. There Elise made her last stand.

"_Good_ afternoon, Miss Madden. I congratulate Mr. Waddington--on the partners.h.i.+p."

Barbara rushed to the relief of the besieged in his office redoubt.

"It's all over!" she shouted at him joyously.

Mr. Waddington did not answer all at once. He was still sitting in his uneasy Windsor chair, absorbed in meditation. He had brought out a little note from his inmost pocket and as he looked at it he smiled.

It began thus, and its date was the Sat.u.r.day following that dreadful Wednesday:

"MY DEAR MR. WADDINGTON:

"After the way you have stood by me and helped me in the past, I cannot believe that it is all over, and that I can come to you, my generous friend, and be repulsed--"

He looked up. "How did she behave, Barbara?" "Oh--she wanted to bite--to bite badly; but I drew all her teeth, very gently, one by one." Teeth.

Elise's teeth--drawn by Barbara.

He tore the note into little bits, and, as he watched them flutter into the waste-paper basket, he sighed. He rose heavily.

"Let's go and tell f.a.n.n.y all about it," said Barbara.

XIII

1

"I hope you realize, Horatio, that it was Barbara who got you out of that mess?"

"Barbara showed a great deal of intelligence; but you must give me credit for some tact and discretion of my own," Mr. Waddington said as he left the drawing-room.

"_Was_ he tactful and discreet?"

"His first letters," said Barbara, "were masterpieces of tact and discretion. Before he saw the danger. Afterwards I think his nerve may have gone a bit. Whose wouldn't?"

"It _was_ clever of you, Barbara. All the same, it must have been rather awful, going for her like that."

"Yes."

Now that it was all over Barbara saw that it had been awful; rather like a dog-fight. She had been going round and round, rolling with Mrs.

Levitt in the mud; so much mud that for purposes of sheer cleanliness it hardly seemed to matter which of them was top dog at the finish. All she could see was that it had to be done and there wasn't anybody else to do it.

"You see," f.a.n.n.y went on, "she had a sort of case. He _was_ making love to her and she didn't like it. It doesn't seem quite fair to turn on her after that."

"She did all the turning. I wouldn't have said a thing if she hadn't tried to put the screw on. Somebody had got to stop it."

"Yes," f.a.n.n.y said. "Yes. Still, I wish we could have let her go in peace."

"There wasn't any peace for her to go in; and she wouldn't have gone.

She'd have been here now, with his poor thumb in her screw. After all, f.a.n.n.y, I only pointed out how beastly it would be for her if she didn't go. And I only did that because he was your husband, and it was your thumb, really."

"Yes, darling, yes; I know what you did it for. ... Oh, I wish she wasn't so horribly badly off."

"So do I, then it wouldn't have happened. But how can you be such an angel to her, f.a.n.n.y?"