Winding Paths Part 66

Hal placed her hands on the mantelshelf, and leaned her forehead down on them.

"Tell me something funny, d.i.c.k, or I shall howl in a few seconds.

Don't be serious. Be idiotic. Have the carrots and turnips decided which take precedence yet? Is her ladys.h.i.+p, the onion, weeping upon the cabbage's lordly bosom? Are the babies talking philosophy over their bottles? For Heaven's sake, d.i.c.k, be idiotic, and make me laugh."

"I think it would do you more good to cry."

"Oh, no, no: I hate to cry. Do help me not to."

But d.i.c.k understood the relief it was to a woman to have it out, and he just sat down in Dudley's big arm chair, and reached the favourite footstool for Hal.

"Sit on the stool of confessional, and I'll make you laugh later on.

If you don't cry now, you will when I've gone."

Hal sat on the footstool, and leaning against his knee, cried quietly for several minutes. He played with an unruly strand of hair until she dried her eyes, and then said:

"When we were kids, you always told me when things went wrong with you.

Tell me all about it now."

"I left off being a kid about a month ago. I'm ancient history now"; and she tried to smile through her tears.

"Why?"

"Oh, just because - " and then her voice broke suddenly.

"I suppose Sir Edwin was in love with you?"

She did not reply.

"And he was obliged to marry the other woman for the money."

He was thoughtful for some moments, and then added:

"All the same, when a man like that goes so far as to love a woman, which must be a pretty novel experience for him, he doesn't let her go lightly. He won't let you go lightly, Hal."

"I shall not see him again."

"Has it come to that already?"

"It had to. There was no other course."

"It sounds rather sudden and drastic." He watched her keenly. "A man like that would try to get both of you. Did he try, Hal?"

The hot blood rushed to her face, and she turned her head away.

"Well, he would think it the obvious, sensible course, I suppose, and perhaps a good many women would, too. What did you think, Hal?"

"I didn't think. I hurried away. I shall not see him any more at all."

He looked at her with a light in his eyes.

"Bravo," he said; and there was a low thrill in his voice. "He'll think the world more of you, Hal."

"I'm not sure; anyhow, it doesn't help very much."

"Then you wanted to go."

She stared into the fire and was silent.

"I see," he said simply. "You are one of the women who would have dared, only... of course I knew you wouldn't, Hal. And, if you had, I shouldn't have been the one to blame you."

"Yes," she told him, still staring at the fire. "I could have dared under some circ.u.mstance. But not these. Never under pretty, ign.o.ble ones. I think that all makes it worse. There were two Sir Edwins.

There was one I knew, and another the world knew. It was the other that triumphed. Mine will never come back. It is all finished."

She bowed her head down on her arms.

"Oh, d.i.c.k," she said. "I shall miss him badly."

"But I'm glad you let him go, Hal." He spoke in a quiet voice full of feeling. "Most men are pretty casual and indifferent nowadays, and we often say we like a woman to be broad-minded, and daring, and all that; but, by Jove! when we know she's straight as a die, without being a prude, we're ready to kneel down to her.

"Stand to your guns, Hal. I... I... want to go on knowing that you are among those one wants to kneel down to. If he is very persistent and persevering, and it gets harder, I dare say I can help. You can always 'phone me at a moment's notice, and I shall consider myself at your beck and call."

"You are a dear, d.i.c.k, but I shall not see him. He can only wait for me at the office, and I shall go out the back way."

"Still, if you're rather lost there are lots of things we might to to fill up the time. I've been going down East with Quin lately. It's awfully interesting. Especially with him - he's so splendid with the most hopeless characters. There's a sing-song at one of the clubs on Wednesday eve. Come down with us. You'll see Quin at his very best."

"I'd love to come. Will you fetch me?"

"I'll fetch you from the office, and we'll have a sort of meat-tea meal at the Ches.h.i.+re Cheese. Perhaps Quin will join us."

So they sat on and talked in the firelight till it was time for d.i.c.k to go; and all the time Hal was unconsciously drawing strength and resolution from him for the fight that lay ahead of her.

Many years ago when she broke her dolls he had tried to mend them and comfort her. And now, because he was a simple, manly gentleman, blessed with the precious gift of understanding - when she was feeling heart-broken he tried with all the old, generous affection to help to heal the wound, and bring her consolation.

And away on the southern sh.o.r.e, where a little fis.h.i.+ng-village nestled in the cliffs, and a creeper-covered hotel awaited sleepily the coming of the summer and the summer visitors, Lorraine came to what she deemed her hour - the one great hour left - and, as a drowning man, caught at her straw. Two long perfect days they had spent on the sea, with an old fisherman, full of anecdote, and his young grandson to sail the boat.

Then came the dreamy twilight hour, and their utter loneness; and Alymer, with the strong, swift blood in his veins, and the strong l.u.s.t of life in his heart, lost himself, as she meant that he should, in the intoxicating atmosphere of her charm and fascination.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII

When Hal and her cousin emerged from the office the following Wednesday evening, the first thing Hal saw was Sir Edwin's motor, and Sir Edwin himself standing waiting for her. A disengaged taxi was just moving off, having deposited a fare, and instantly, without a word to d.i.c.k, she sprang into it. d.i.c.k gave a sharp glance round and followed her.

"Tell him where to go," she said.

He directed the chauffeur, and then looked anxiously into her face.