The Knave of Diamonds Part 72

She turned to him impulsively. "Isn't it horrid when the thing you've been planning for and wanting ever so long happens and everyone else is cross?"

The blue eyes looked quizzical. "Very, I should say," said Lucas. "Would it be presumptuous to ask what has been happening and who is cross?"

Dot's answering smile held more of pathos than mirth. Her lips took a quivering, downward droop. "It's Nap," she said.

He raised his brows a little. "Nap seems the general pivot on which all grievances turn," he remarked.

Dot leaned her chin on her hand. "I do so hate making mistakes," she said.

"We all do it," said Lucas.

"Oh, you don't!" She turned and gravely regarded him. "You are always wise," she said, "never headlong."

"Which only demonstrates your ignorance and the kindness of your heart,"

said Lucas. "But go on, won't you? What has Nap been doing?"

"Oh, nothing. Nap is all right. It isn't Nap I mind." Again that doleful droop of the lips became apparent, together with a little quiver of the voice undeniably piteous. "It--it's Bertie," whispered Dot. "I--I--it's very ridiculous, isn't it? I'm a wee bit afraid of Bertie, do you know?"

"St. Christopher!" said Lucas, in astonishment.

"Yes. But you won't ever tell him, will you?" she pleaded anxiously.

"If--if he knew or guessed--all my prestige would be gone. I shouldn't be able to manage him at all. He--he is rather difficult to manage sometimes, don't you think?"

Lucas was frowning slightly. "I guess I can manage him," he said.

"No doubt you could. I expect you always have. He respects you," said Dot, with unwitting wistfulness.

Lucas turned his head and looked at her very steadily. "Will you tell me something, Dot?" he said.

She nodded.

"Why are you afraid of Bertie?"

She hesitated.

"Come!" he said. "Surely you're not afraid of me too!"

The banter in his voice was touched with a tenderness that went straight to Dot's young heart. She leaned down impetuously and held his hand.

"No," she said tremulously. "I'm not such a little idiot as that, Luke.

I'm afraid of Bertie because I've done something he wouldn't like. It's a very little thing, Luke. It is, really. But--but it's bothered me off and on all the winter. And now that Nap is home, I feel much worse--as if--as if it had been really wrong. And--and"--she broke down suddenly--"I know I ought to tell him. But--I can't."

"Tell me," said Lucas gently.

"And you will tell him for me?"

"If you wish me to do so."

"I don't like it," sobbed Dot. "It's so despicable of me. I've wanted to tell him for ever so long. But he has been so good to me all this time, and--and somehow I couldn't face it. We haven't even squabbled for months now. It--it seemed such a pity to spoil everything when it really didn't make any difference to anyone if he knew or not."

"Don't cry," interposed Lucas. "It would hurt Bertie if he knew."

"Dear Bertie!" whispered Dot. "Isn't it horrid of me to be such a coward?

I haven't done anything really wrong either. In fact at the time it seemed almost right."

"Almost!" said Lucas, faintly smiling.

She smiled also through her tears. "Why don't you call me a humbug? Well, listen! It was like this. One night in the beginning of the winter Bertie and I had a disagreement about Nap. It wasn't at all important. But I had to stick up for him, because I had chanced to see him just before he left in the summer--you remember--when he was very, very miserable?"

"I remember," said Lucas.

He spoke rather wearily, but his eyes never left her face. He was listening intently.

"And I was frightfully sorry for him," proceeded Dot, "though at the time I didn't know what was the matter. And I couldn't let Bertie say horrid things about him. So I fired up. And then Bertie told me"--she faltered a little--"about Nap caring for Lady Carfax. And that was where the trouble began. He didn't give him credit for really loving her, whereas I knew he did."

Strong conviction sounded in Dot's voice. The blue eyes that watched her opened a little.

"That so?" said Lucas.

"Oh, I was sure," she said. "I was sure. There are some things a woman can't help knowing. It was the key to what I knew before. I understood--at once."

"And then?" said Lucas.

"Then, of course, I remembered that Lady Carfax was free. And I asked Bertie if he knew. You see, I thought it possible that in her heart she might be caring for him too. I knew they had always been friends. And Sir Giles was such a brute to her. No woman could ever have loved him. I think most people couldn't help knowing that. And it seemed only fair that Nap should know that Sir Giles was dead. I told Bertie so. He didn't agree with me." Dot paused and vigorously dried her eyes. "I still don't think he was right," she said.

"P'r'aps not." Lucas spoke meditatively. "There's a good deal to be said for woman's intuition," he said.

"It seemed to me a matter of fair play," maintained Dot. "He didn't know where Nap was, only his club address. And he wouldn't write himself, so I just wrote a single line telling Nap that Sir Giles was dead, and sent it off that night. I didn't tell Bertie. It didn't seem to matter much then, and I knew it might be ages before Nap got it. But now that that line has brought him back, I feel as if he ought to know--particularly as Bertie is so angry with him for returning. And Anne too--Anne nearly fainted when she saw him. I felt as if I had landed everybody in a hopeless muddle." Again Dot wiped her eyes. "And I had so wanted him to come," she ended.

"Don't fret," said Lucas very kindly. "I wanted him too."

She looked at him eagerly. "You think as I do? You think he cares for Anne?"

"I guess so," he answered, "since your letter brought him back."

"And--and Anne? Do you think--do you really think--?"

"I guess so," he said again.

He lay silent for a while, his eyes drooping heavily, till she even began to wonder if he were falling asleep.

At length, "Dot," he said, "have I your permission to make what use I like of this?"

She gave a slight start. "You are going to tell Bertie?"

He looked at her. "My dear," he said, "I think Bertie had better know."

She nodded. "I know he ought. But he will be furious with me."