A Bachelor Husband Part 29

He was horrified, therefore, to see Marie standing with her face buried in her hands, her whole slim body shaking with sobs.

Chris stood staring at her helplessly. Marie so seldom cried, it gave him a bad shock to see her so upset--he must have said a great deal more than he had intended. He flushed with angry shame.

"Marie--for heaven's sake!" He went to her and put his arms round her, clumsily, but still with something comforting in their clasp.

"Don't cry, for G.o.d's sake!" he begged agitatedly. "What did I say?

Whatever it was, I didn't mean it--you know that!" He pressed her head down against his shoulder, keeping his hand on her soft hair.

"Sorry, Marie Celeste!" he said humbly. "I was a brute; it shall never happen again."

She pushed him gently from her, walking away to try and recover herself.

"It's all right," she said presently with an effort, her voice broken by little sobbing breaths. "It's all right. Please go away and leave me alone."

She was bitterly ashamed to have broken down before him--he who so hated tears and a scene.

She dried her eyes fiercely and tried to laugh.

"I don't often--cry, you know," she defended herself.

"I know you don't." Chris ran agitated fingers through his hair.

"It was my fault. I hope you'll forgive me." He followed her and put an arm round her shoulders.

"Forgive me and forget it, Marie Celeste, will you?"

"It's all forgotten."

He laughed ruefully.

"You say that, but you don't mean it. And really it wasn't my fault this morning. I went out early and met Mrs. Heriot on the sands--I thought she never got up early. I swear to you that it was no fault of mine. I don't care for the woman. I've told you so, haven't I?"

"Yes." She could not explain that it was not ordinary jealousy of Mrs. Heriot that was breaking her heart, but jealousy of the fact that this woman could prove an amusing companion to him, whereas she herself was such a failure. The tears came again in spite of her efforts, and she pressed her hands hard over her eyes in a vain effort to restrain them. "Oh, if you would only go away!" she faltered wildly.

Chris turned away with an impatient sigh; he felt at fault because of his inability to comfort her; he went downstairs and hunted up Feathers.

"Come on out for a walk," he said gruffly.

Feathers looked up from his paper, saw the frown on his friend's face and rose.

"Right-oh! Where is Mrs. Lawless?"

"Packing."

"It seems a pity for her not to get all the air she can, as it's her last morning."

"I asked her to come out, and she refused."

They went out together.

Chris walked along, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched dejectedly. Feathers was perfectly well aware that something was wrong, but asked no questions, and presently Chris broke out wrathfully.

"What the devil a man wants to get mixed up with women for I'm hanged if I know."

Feathers was looking out at the sea, and his face changed a little as he asked carelessly:

"Well, who has been getting mixed up with them?"

"No one in particular that I know of! I simply made a remark."

"Oh, I see."

There was a faint sneer in Feathers' voice, and his eyes looked grim; he knew that if he waited Chris would presently explode again, and he was right.

"Marriage," said Chris, with the air of one who has suddenly lighted upon a great and original discovery, "is a d.a.m.ned awful gamble, and that's a fact."

Feathers stopped to knock the ashes from his pipe against a wooden post.

"It's not compulsory, anyway," he said quietly. "After all, men marry to please themselves."

"Or to please someone else," said Chris with a growl.

There was a little silence.

"Or for money," said Feathers deliberately.

Chris stopped to kick a pebble off the promenade to the sands below, and he answered his friend gloomily:

"n.o.body but a fool would marry a woman for her money."

Feathers stared. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it again with a little snap.

After all, what use was it to raise an argument? He did not want to quarrel with Chris, and yet he knew that he had never had a better reason for so doing.

"When are you coming back to town?" Chris asked after a moment.

"Don't know; haven't made up my mind yet." Feathers looked at Chris quizzically. "Suppose you'll rather drop out of things now, eh?" he asked.

Chris stared.

"Drop out? Good Lord, no!" he flushed angrily. "What do you mean-- because I happen to have got married?"

"It generally makes a difference." Feathers said lightly.

"Not in my case. Marie's a sensible girl--dash it! I've known her all my life."

"Yes, that's the trouble."

"What the deuce do you mean?"