The house at Hampstead was ready at the end of August, and Peg moved to
it from the flat with Forrester and his wife.
She and Faith were like a couple of children getting the house in order;
Peg had not much taste, and she adored bright colours. She would have
had a rainbow drawing-room if it had been left for her to decide, but
Faith was determined to be mistress in her own house as far as its
arrangement went, and on that subject she and her husband were for once
agreed.
It was rather a charming house, with a long garden, shut in by a high
wall, and the first night they were established there Faith found Peg
leaning out of her bedroom window, which overlooked it, her elbows
resting on the stone sill, and a look of gloomy despondency in her
handsome eyes.
Faith slipped an arm round her.
"What's the matter, Peg?" she asked. She was very fond of Peg and quick
to recognize her varying moods. Peg answered gruffly, without her usual
cheeriness.
"I'm fed up! I don't belong here! What right have I got to be in a house
like this, and sleeping in a room like this?"
She turned round sharply, her blue eyes taking in every detail of the
expensively furnished room behind them.
She had chosen its wallpaper herself, which was too bright, and a mass
of extraordinary looking birds. She had chosen the carpet, too, which
was a curious mixture of greens and yellows, with a satin quilt on the
bed to match.
The furniture was white enamel, and both the big chairs in the room had
a brilliant cushion of peacock green.
"It looks--uncommon," so Faith had said slowly, when she was first
introduced to the finished result, but neither she nor the Beggar Man
really liked it, as Peg had been quick to perceive.
"At any rate, I've got to sleep in it, and nobody else," she said in
defiance.
"And she ought to have nightmare every night," so Forrester remarked
afterwards rather grimly to his wife. "Good gracious, what taste! It
shouts at one!"
Faith had defended Peg then, but she knew he was right, and she
understood quite well now what Peg meant when she said she knew that she
did not belong to the house.
"But it's all nonsense," she declared warmly. "I love you. I should hate
the house without you."
Peg stooped and kissed her gratefully.
"You're a nice little kid," she said with a sigh. "But--it's true all
the same what I say. I don't belong. If I wasn't here you'd be living
quite a different life, you and Mr. Forrester. He'd be asking his
friends to the house, and you'd be giving dinner-parties. But you don't
because I'm here, and he's afraid I shall shock them."
"As if it matters what he's afraid of," Faith said sharply, but in her
heart she knew that Peg was right; knew that, no matter how good and
warm-hearted she might be, Peg grated on the Beggar Man forty times a
day.
Over and over again Faith had seen him frown and turn away at one of
Peg's slangy terms, just as she had seen him frown that day when she had
told him that the facts of her marriage were like a novelette, and she
had substituted "fairy story" instead.
Odd that then she had been so willing and anxious to please him, and
that now she never considered him at all.
Peg seemed to guess something of her thoughts, for she caught her by the
arm, twisting her round so that they were face to face.
"Look here," she said. "How long's it going on like this?"
The bright colour rushed to Faith's cheeks.
"What do you mean?"
"You know quite well what I mean," Peg said bluntly. "I mean how long is
that husband of yours going to go on calmly paying out for you and me to
live here, and have everything we want in the world, and get nothing in
return? He's soft to do it, that's what I think. Either soft or an
angel," she added. "And, after all, that's pretty much the same thing,
isn't it?"
Faith laughed nervously.
"You do say such queer things," she objected.
"So I may do," Peg agreed, "but I'm not a fool, and neither is he; and
as he's Ralph Scammel, and a good business man as well, he's not doing
all this just to please us, and don't you forget it. There's some reason
for it all."
"What do you mean?" But Faith spoke uneasily and looked away.
"I mean," said Peg bluntly, "that he's in love with one of us." She
looked at Faith with sharp eyes. "A man never spends heaps of money on a
woman for nothing. And as there's nothing to be got out of us, he's in
love with one of us, and I don't flatter myself that it's me."
She waited, but Faith made no reply. She did not like Peg when she was
in such serious moods, and lately Peg was often serious.
"Of course, I know you don't care two hoots about him," she went on.
"Anyone with half an eye could see that! Not two hoots you don't care
for him, but all the same I like to see fair play, and it's up to you
to make things more comfortable for him after all he's done for you and
me."
"What can I do? He's never here. He's just like a stranger," Faith
objected.
"Which is what you wanted him to be, isn't it?" Peg asked innocently.
"You're not complaining about that, are you? No! Well, then, what about
it?"
Faith laughed, not very convincingly.
"He's master in his own house," she said. "It's his money; he need not
spend any money on me if he does not want to. I am quite willing to go
back to the factory and work. I told him so. I'd go back to-morrow."
Peg grinned. "Would you?" she said. "I know you wouldn't, after living
here all these weeks and having servants to wait on you and pretty
frocks to wear and scrumptious food to eat. I'll bet you wouldn't, so
own up and be honest."
Faith frowned.
"Well, what do you expect me to do?" she asked rather crossly. "I
suppose this is all leading up to something, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is. You've got to play fair. You've got to let him bring his
friends here and entertain them for him like other men's wives do. Where
do you suppose he goes every evening when he has dinner out, and in the
daytime when he has his lunch out? Well, he's being entertained by his
friends and their wives, of course."
Faith looked up quickly. It had never occurred to her to wonder where
Forrester spent his time when he was not at home.
"Well, I suppose he likes it," she said defensively.
"Likes it!" There was a world of scorn in Peg's voice. She turned again
to her moody contemplation of the garden.
"Do you know what I'd do if I was his wife?" she asked. "Well, I'd make
it so jolly nice for him here at home that he'd never want to go out to
his other friends and their wives. I'd let him see that I could
entertain every bit as properly as they can. I'd...."
"You've changed, haven't you?" Faith said bitterly. "It's only two
months ago that you were calling him every name you could think of, and
telling me that I was a fool to have married him."
"I know I was," Peg admitted calmly, though she flushed. "And I think
p'raps I was the fool, after all."
She turned again suddenly.
"Faith, why do you call him the 'Beggar Man'? You've done it once or
twice lately."
"Have I?" Faith did not raise her eyes. "Well, he really gave himself
the name," she explained reluctantly. "It was--was the first time I met
him--he asked if I'd got any people, and I said yes--I told him
about--about mother and the twins...." She caught her breath with a long
sigh. What years and years ago now it all seemed! "And he said
that--that I was richer than he, because I'd got people to love me, and
that he'd got only money. He said that I was Queen ... Queen somebody or
other, and he was the Beggar Man. It was a fairy story or something, I
think--he said he'd tell me about it some day ... but he hasn't."
She looked past Peg to the silent garden. It hurt somehow to speak of
that day so long ago now, and remember how different Forrester had
seemed then to what he did now. Did she seem different to him, too? she
wondered.
"I've read the story," Peg said triumphantly. "It was King Cophetua and
the Beggar Maid. He married her and made her his queen, and took her to
share his golden throne with him, and all the courtiers came and knelt
before her and kissed her hand." She was off again, lost in the realms
of her romantic, novel-fed soul.
Faith gave a curt little laugh.
"Well, nobody has knelt before me and kissed my hand, if that's what you
mean," she said.
Peg stared at her.
"I know somebody who'd like to kiss you--if you'd let him," she said
shrewdly. "And----" She broke off as the maid knocked at the door.
"There's a gentleman for the master, please, ma'am--a Mr. Digby," she
said to Faith. "He's come a long way to see him he says, and that if he
might wait he'd be glad, as it's very important." She hesitated. She
knew how shy Faith was, and how as a rule she avoided seeing anybody.
"He asked if I thought you would see him," she added.
Peg gave Faith a nudge.
"See him? Of course you will," she said in a stage whisper.
Faith coloured. "I can't--I...."
Peg came forward.
"Well, shall I see him for you?" But Faith was not going to allow this.
After all, she was Forrester's wife and mistress of the house.
"I'll see him myself," she said.
Peg smiled, well pleased, and presently Faith went slowly down the
stairs, with a nervously beating heart, and pushed open the closed
drawing-room door.
A man was standing by the window looking into the garden; he was a
rather short, thick-set man, and he turned eagerly as Faith entered.
"Mrs. Forrester?" he asked. "Well, I am glad to meet you. I've known
Nicholas all my life, or for a good part of it," he explained in a
rather young and charming voice. "We were abroad together for some
years, so, of course, he was the first person I looked up when I got
over here." He wrung her hand in a bear-like grip. "So the old boy's
married," he went on. "Well, I'm delighted, and though I know it's not
the right thing to do, I'm going to congratulate you instead of him,
Mrs. Forrester. You've got one of the best."
Faith smiled nervously.
"You're very kind," she said. "He--he's out, but--but if you'll wait I'm
sure he won't be long."
"I'm sure he won't, too," the man said laughing. "With a home like this
to come to, and a wife...." His eyes rested admiringly on her face. "But
Nicholas was always one of the lucky ones."
He was very friendly and unaffected, and Faith was surprised because she
did not feel less at her ease, but she wished Peg would come down; Peg
could always be relied upon to chip in and keep the ball of conversation
going. She was wondering whether to fetch her when the door opened and
Forrester himself walked in.
"Digby! Jove, I am glad to see you." The two men gripped hands and
thumped one another on the back like delighted schoolboys. Faith had
never seen her husband look so pleased before. She felt the slightest
pang of envy and unwantedness as she stood there, forgotten for the
moment, as they laughed and talked and questioned one another as to the
happenings of the years since they had last met.
"And you'll stay with me, of course?" Forrester said. "I'd take it as a
deadly insult if you went anywhere else. I----" He suddenly remembered
Faith and turned to her. "My wife will be delighted to welcome you, I'm
sure," he said rather formally.
"Mrs. Forrester has been most kind," Digby said. He slapped his friend
on the back again heartily. "Lucky dog! All the good things of life fall
your way."
The Beggar Man laughed.
"That is a compliment for you, Faith," he said.
Afterwards when for a moment they were alone he questioned her rather
anxiously.
"You don't mind him staying here? He's my best friend, and we haven't
met for years! He won't be any trouble. He's a fine chap!"
"Of course I don't mind." She avoided his eyes. "Peg was giving me a
lecture only this evening about you! She said I did nothing for you in
return for all you've done for us. She said that I ought to entertain
your friends." She laughed rather sadly. "You know I can't do anything
like that properly, don't you?"
A little gleam crept into his eyes.
"You could do all that I want in that way," he said. "But it's not Peg's
place to lecture you," he added hardily.
Faith rushed to Peg's defence.
"She meant it so awfully well. She's always sticking up for you. She
says that she likes fair play...." She paused. "So do I," she added with
difficulty. "And--and I'm afraid I haven't played fair
since--since--well, you know."
There was a little silence. The Beggar Man's eyes never left her face,
and there was a queer, hungry look in their blueness.
"You're not--I suppose you're not trying to tell me that--that you don't
hate me so much--after all, eh?" he asked with an effort.
She drew back a step in alarm.
"I am only trying to tell you that--that I know how much you've done for
us all, and that if there was anything--any little thing I could do to
please you ..." She faltered and stopped.
There was an eloquent silence.
"Well--I should like you to kiss me," Forrester said bluntly. He paused.
"Or is that too big a thing to ask?" for Faith had put out protesting
hands, and he laughed.
"It's too much, eh? Oh, all right! Don't bother!" He passed her without
another word and walked out of the room whistling.
They had quite a merry evening.
"Anyone would think Mr. Digby had known us all for years and years," Peg
said afterwards to Faith as the girls went up to bed together. "I like
him awfully, don't you?"
Faith nodded, "Yes." She did like him, but all the evening she had felt
vaguely uncomfortable, conscious of his eyes upon her.
"I wonder how long he means to stay," she hazarded.
"The longer the better," Peg declared bluntly. "If he's here Mr.
Forrester will have to be at home." And then, as if scared by some
possible admission in her words, she added, "It makes it so much more
lively...."
Downstairs a little silence had followed the girls' departure, which
Peter Digby broke with a half-sigh.
"Wish I was married," he said laconically. "I've been looking for a girl
like your wife for the last ten years, Nick!"
Forrester laughed.
"There are plenty of girls in the world," he said.
"Yes, but not the right sort," Digby objected. "Where did you meet her?"
Forrester coloured slightly.
"Oh, it's a long story. I'll tell you some other time." And to change
the subject he asked, "What do you think of Peg--Miss Fraser?"
Digby hesitated.
"Handsome girl," he said at last. "Very different to Mrs. Forrester. Bit
of a rough diamond I should think, if you won't be offended with me for
saying so."
The Beggar Man was lighting a cigarette. He blew a big puff of smoke
into the air before he answered with deep earnestness: "She's a rough
diamond as you say, but I admire and respect her more than any woman I
know. She's got a heart of gold."