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"Pip" Part 34

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"Suppose the Earl doesn't agree?"

"He will. It will be a pill for him, but he doesn't want the family name dragged through the law courts."

"But suppose?"

"Well, if he does, we are ready for him. If he ab-so-lute-ly refuses, I go to the front door, whistle up Fitz, pop him into this motor, skim off to Lindley, and get married by special licence. Fitz has agreed, and has the licence in his pocket now. Then I shall have an even stronger card to play--do you see?"

"Afraid not. Too deep for me."



"Well, once we're legally married, the old chap will find that as a real wife I am far more expensive to get rid of than before."

"Get rid of?"

"Yes. He wouldn't think of admitting _me_ to his almighty family circle.

He would have to ask now what I would take to live apart from Fitz."

"Live apart?"

"Yes."

"And you'd agree?"

"For two hundred thousand--yes."

"My word! You'd leave your husband?"

"Yes. You don't suppose I want to spend all my days with an image like Fitz, do you?"

Lottie threw herself back petulantly in her seat. Presently Pip laid his hand on her arm.

"Don't!" said he.

"Don't what?"

"Don't be drawn into this affair."

"Why not? Seems to me I'm in it pretty thick already."

"You could break it off--at once. It would be the kindest thing to do."

"It would be a blamed silly thing to do," said Miss Lottingar frankly.

"Do you care for him at all?"

"Fitz? Not a rap."

"But--do you like him?"

"Oh, yes! He's a decent little sort."

"Well, just think what it would mean to him if he married you, and then--found out."

"Um!" said Miss Lottie thoughtfully.

"Besides," continued Pip, following up his advantage, "think of yourself."

"I usually do," said Lottie.

"Women were never meant for that low-down sort of game," said Pip, getting to the heart of his subject.

Suddenly Lottie blazed out.

"There you go! Women, women, women! I wonder if there was ever a man in this world that could treat a woman sensibly. Some men--most men--look upon women as fair game, and treat them accordingly. The others--men like you--look on them as little pot angels, and shudder when they show they are made of flesh and blood. Women are human beings, no better and no worse than men, only they don't get the chances men do, Jack. That's all--human beings! Remember that."

"It's a hard world for women, I know," said Pip, rather staggered by this outburst. "But some good chap is bound to come along and--er--make you happy, and all that. Hasn't there ever been--anybody of that kind?"

"Lots."

"None you cared about, perhaps?"

"Not one. Well, there was one. Jim Lister is his name. He is a.s.sistant stage-manager at the Crown Theatre."

"Well?" said Pip hopefully.

"I--I liked him well enough, but we should always have been poor--awfully poor--and--"

"If a couple are really fond of each other, nothing else matters a d.a.m.n," said Pip, with conviction. "Sorry! I mean you might do worse."

Lottie rounded on him.

"There you go again. 'Might do worse!' 'Be thankful for small mercies!'

It's a rotten game being a woman, Jack. You are a man and can't understand. But if you'd had as hard a time as I have,--yes, and if you'd seen half as much of this world as I have,--you'd be gentler with me, Jack."

Certainly the conversation was taking an unexpected turn. Pip was completely out of his depth. Ten minutes ago he had been a respectful chauffeur, teaching a rather flamboyant young mistress how to drive a car. Now he was sitting by the selfsame young mistress, holding her arm in a friendly fas.h.i.+on, and talking to her as an elder brother might talk to a petulant child.

The irregularity of the situation apparently struck Miss Lottingar at the same moment, for, with one of those swift and characteristically feminine changes of mood which leave mere man toiling helplessly behind in the trammels of logical consistency, she abruptly released her arm, observed brightly that the rain had ceased, wondered if it wouldn't turn out a fine evening after all, and bade Armstrong drive home as fast as possible.

III

The Honourable Reginald Fitznorton was due back at four o'clock next afternoon. The motor was ordered round, and Pip drove Lottie to the station to meet him. Lottie, who was looking pale and not quite herself, declined to sit in the tonneau, and accompanied Pip on the front seat.

In spite of the facilities for conversation afforded by this position she said little; and Pip, whose repertory of conversational openings was not extensive, said nothing at all. Besides, he was not certain whether he was to be treated to-day as a big brother or as a chauffeur.

Had he been a more observant big brother or a less diligent chauffeur he might have noticed that from time to time he was being favoured by his mistress with a sidelong scrutiny of some intensity. Being Pip, he saw nothing. One act of hers might have afforded him a good deal of information had he desired it. When the car, which had started late, rounded the last corner on the way to the station, there appeared in the offing no less a person than the Honourable himself, bag in hand, and diffusing happiness around him. Suddenly Pip became conscious of something. The girl at his side seemed to shrink up to him, and for a moment her hand travelled towards his as if for protection. An instant later she was leaning back in her seat, smilingly dipping an answering pennant to the frenzied signals of her rapidly approaching swain.

The car slowed down to a stop. Miss Lottingar stepped out, and was received by her enraptured lover, regardless of Pip's presence, with a smacking salute that fairly drowned the noise of the engine. After that the happy couple entered the tonneau, and Pip, with eyes rigidly turned to the front, heard little and saw nothing of them throughout the drive home.

As the Princ.i.p.al Boy had confidently predicted, the Right Honourable the Earl of Cartavon arrived at Broadoak Manor at lunch-time next day. The inmates of that venerable pile were ready for him. Howard, looking like a retired archbishop, received him at the door, and Captain Lottingar, in tweeds and gaiters, greeted him in the library. His lords.h.i.+p was affably informed that, in consequence of recent surprising and joyful disclosures by the young folk, his visit was not altogether unexpected; and that if he would join the house-party at luncheon, the business on which he had come down might be comfortably discussed over a cigar in the library afterwards.

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