am angry with you. Do not think that I am blind to the enormous
sacrifice that you are making. You are speaking on the impulse of the
moment. Think of your future!"
"I am not," Rent cried. "If anybody had told me this yesterday I should
have repudiated the idea with scorn and amusement. But yesterday and
to-day are far apart, and I do not recognise myself as the same man.
And I mean every word that I say. Otherwise, what would become of you?
You could not go back to that man now. It is out of the question."
Kate Charlock pressed her hands to her eyes and shivered. The gesture
was more eloquent than any words could be.
"Precisely," Rent went on rapidly. "Though I understand what is
uppermost in your mind, you stand at the parting of the ways, both of
which end in what the world calls folly. But is it folly for you to
strike a blow for your just rights? And, really, you couldn't go back
to the man whom you hate and despise."
"But there is a middle course," Kate Charlock murmured. "I can go out
into the world alone. I can get my own living, as other unhappy women
have done before me. And you will help me."
"That I will," Rent said. "Ah, I am afraid you do not realise what a
terrible task it is. And, mind you, nobody cares for your future but
me. You have no friends among the people with whom your life has been
cast lately. Not one of them would stretch out a hand to save you."
Kate Charlock shook her head sadly. There was no occasion for Rent to
tell her that, for she knew it far better than he did. In worldly
matters this man was a mere child by the side of her. She glanced at
her hands--those long, slim hands which had not done a day's work for
the last six years. And Kate Charlock knew her limits. She knew
perfectly well that she was not clever, that her mental equipment was
slender. She read no literature, beyond the last thing in neurotic
fiction. Her education had been quite perfunctory. Save in the
direction of the stage, there was no opening for her. And, with all her
great talents, a stage career was precarious, if not problematical.
She had nothing except her beauty and the sweet, alluring sadness of her
smile. On one point she was resolved: she was never going to share an
humble cottage with John Charlock. As she stood there, meek and
resigned, with the slow dawning of a smile upon her face, she was
reckoning up her chances as avidly as any Cheap Jack at a country fair.
She saw the risks. She had a luminous grasp of the situation. Her
mental vision was clear and cold as crystal.
She had done with John Charlock--of that there was no question whatever.
She would be no slave of his any more, even if she had to live on the
dry bread of adversity. There was an end of that. Possibly she might
live upon the sale of her fine jewels till she could get a footing on
the stage, but that was a slow process even to the cleverest. And here
was this chivalrous fool holding the gate open for her to pass, ready to
sacrifice his future for the mere shadow of one of her sweet, sad
smiles.
Was the game worth the candle? she asked herself. She was regarding the
crisis from her point of view alone. She was not giving Arnold Rent as
much as a single thought.
It would be slow enough, she knew that perfectly well. Audacious as she
was, in her heart of hearts she knew that she would have to bend before
the storm and the stress of the chatter which was sure to follow. Even
the most liberal members of her own smart set would turn a cold face on
her for the time being, though they might wink at her as they passed by.
For the time being! Ah, that was the crucial point of the problem. It
would be impossible to stay in England. She would have to go abroad for
a time--her means were too limited for England. Rent would be rich--and
her husband's heart was weak! Then she would take care that her story
was told. She would see that among her friends the sympathy was all for
her. Still, that meant there was a long time to wait. In the
meanwhile, could she live in fond hope? Once more, was the game worth
the candle?
On the other hand, as far as Kate Charlock could see, there was no other
game to play. Fate had thrown this chance into her hands and she was
not disposed to release it. Besides, Arnold Rent was rich. At any
rate, if he were not rich himself, he had a very wealthy mother who
idolised him. That mother was going to be a bit of a stumbling-block
later, but that was Arnold Rent's affair and did not concern the woman.
On the whole, Kate Charlock had made up her mind. But it would never do
to throw herself into the arms of this man merely at his bidding.
"I ought to have time to think," she said. "It is cruel to press me in
this way, and there is your own future to consider. Do you know that I
shall be a millstone round your neck, and that, as soon as the world
knows that we have thrown in our lot together, your ambitions will die a
natural death?"
"That is how I expected you to speak," Arnold Rent replied. "Always so
unselfish and considerate for the feelings of others, always putting
yourself in the background! My dear, sweet saint, what are those paltry
ambitions of mine compared with my love for you? Who am I that I should
set out to reform the world single-handed? Why should not the world
know your story, for that matter? I may be obscured for the moment, but
when people come to understand I shall rank as high as ever. With you
by my side I could do anything. We could set up a creed and programme
of our own, based on the broader doctrines of true charity. I little
thought when your husband asked me to meet him here to-night----"
"To meet you here to-night?" Kate Charlock cried. "Do you mean to say
that you came here by appointment? Oh, now I begin to see. Now I begin
to understand."
She checked herself suddenly. She pressed her handkerchief to her eyes
as if overcome with the excess of her emotions. The action filled Rent
with deepest and sincerest pity. It was not for him to guess how near
the woman had come to betraying herself.
So this had been part of John Charlock's revenge. He had thrown these
two deliberately together at the very moment when defenceless beauty
must most need champion and defender. A less wise and more honest woman
than Kate Charlock would have told this to Rent, heedless of the fact
that his own suspicions might have been aroused. But not Kate Charlock.
"I don't quite understand," she murmured. "Why should you have been
asked to come here to-night at all?"
"Well, you see, I ventured to expostulate with your husband. I pointed
out to him how cruelly his new project would bear upon you. It was not
a pleasant interview, I assure you. Finally, he asked me to come here
this evening at eight o'clock, when he would give me a practical idea of
his decision. I little dreamt then what he meant, but I see it plainly
now. The man is a monster in human form, Kate, a cunning scoundrel, who
is not worthy to associate with honest men. Do you think he really
intended that you and I---- Oh, you know what I mean. I cannot put it
into words."
"He gave me the choice of going with him," Mrs. Charlock said bitterly.
"That much is in his favour. And I suppose he could not help the fact
that his creditor was determined to avail himself of his powers to take
everything away. I am trying to think as fairly of my husband as I can.
It is probable that he has forgotten about you."
Kate Charlock spoke eagerly. Indeed, she appeared to be sincere in her
defence of her husband. If any suspicion rankled in Rent's mind, it had
to be laid to sleep at once. But there was no suspicion in the man's
mind, nothing but admiration for this woman's spurious single-mindedness
and love and truth.
"We will say no more about it," he cried. "Meanwhile, we are wasting
time. There is nothing in this desolate place to attract you, no
memories to keep you lingering here. And, in any case, it is too late
to draw back. Get what things you want and I will go down to the
village and procure a conveyance. You are not afraid to be left here
alone?"
Kate Charlock smiled reassuringly. There was nothing she desired better
than to be left alone for a moment or two. She went almost gaily up to
the room where her belongings had been stored. Her heart was light
within her as that of a child. The sweet, innocent smile was still upon
her face. But the smile was faint and wan when she came down again.
"My jewels are gone," she moaned. "The safe has been forced. No, my
husband would not have done that. It was Hortense. The wicked woman!
Oh, the wicked woman! But perhaps I had better keep this from Arnold
Rent."
*CHAPTER X*
*THE FIRST OF THE FRUIT*
The darkness was gathering by the time that Rent came back and Kate
Charlock had her property gathered together. She had not packed up many
things--just the necessaries for an extravagant woman like herself. The
rest could follow later. She trusted to her tact and discretion to make
the future smooth. Rent would have been dismayed if he had known how
clearly she could read his mind. She had no intention of compromising
herself. She was merely going to make use of him. But he need not know
that yet. He need not know how perfectly she was able to take care of
herself. A deep plot lay at the back of her mind, a means by which she
could bring her husband to his knees. This was no senseless, confiding
creature putting her future in the hands of a man she had known only for
a few months. That she had seen more of him than her husband was aware
mattered nothing. She did not fail to note that Rent looked greatly
annoyed.
"I have been detained," he explained. "A business matter. I may have
to come back to-morrow. But I can take you in the car I have borrowed as
far as Portsmouth. Then we can get on to Devonshire as soon as
possible, where I want you to stay with my mother. I know she will be
glad to help you. That will be the means of stopping all idle gossip."
"How thoughtful you are," Kate Charlock murmured, as the chauffeur
disappeared. "I have not burdened myself very much, because I thought
that later--but I hardly dare to think of that. If you knew how
frightened and terrified I am----"
The speaker broke off and a little sob came from her throat. It was
dark now, and Rent took her in his arms and soothed her with loving
words. It was too dark to see the outline of the figure standing by a
belt of shrubs facing the door. But on the still air every word and
sound carried, so that John Charlock, from his hiding-place, missed
nothing. He would have been hard put to say why he had returned.
Perhaps his conscience had smitten him. Perhaps it had occurred to him
that he was treating his wife with undue severity. But the fact
remained that he was back there again, prepared with a new proposition.
For the moment he had forgotten Arnold Rent. The man had never come into
his mind again, though, at the time, he had meant to give Rent a sharp
lesson on the prudence of minding his own business. He had come back
through the shrubbery in time to witness a tender little scene in the
porch. A wave of sudden anger passed over him. Then he grew calm and
collected. After all, why should he interfere? Why should he come
between this heartless woman and her platonic flirtation with this
besotted fool--this business man gone mad?
For, man of the world as he was, Charlock had not yet grasped the true
inwardness of the situation. That his wife was an actress to her
fingertips he had learnt by bitter experience. Doubtless Rent had
arrived to keep the appointment and thus these two had come together.
Charlock smiled bitterly to himself as his mind dwelt upon the dramatic
story which his wife must have had to tell. He could imagine how the
woman would play upon the feelings of the man as a master plays upon an
instrument. And the setting to the play was worthy of the great actress
herself. No doubt Rent had been so moved by the whispered wrongs of
this outraged wife that he had placed all he possessed at her disposal.
Doubtless he was removing her to the loving custody of some relation who
would take care of her for the present. But how far things had gone
Charlock did not know. If he had, he might have interfered--and again
he might not. It all depended upon his sardonic mood for the moment.
He stood there now, erect and motionless, and disposed to watch the
thing to the end. Presently the great car jumped forward, and a few
moments later the tail lights had vanished down the drive.
"Well, why not?" Charlock murmured. "Unless I am greatly mistaken,
Arnold Rent is a long way from being a fool. A little more knowledge of
the world, and he is likely to be a force to cope with. Let him find
out for himself. Let him learn what I have had to put up with. It will
be an education for him. Upon my word, though he little knows it, I am
going to prove that young man's greatest benefactor."
Meanwhile, the great car sped on through the darkness, with Kate
Charlock and Rent behind and the driver in front. They were very quiet
and subdued, for, after the first moments of his mid-summer madness,
Rent could not be blind to the seriousness of the step he had taken.
And the woman by his side, following his every mood and phase of
thought, played up to him like a past mistress in the art of emotions.
She laid her head tenderly on his shoulder and sighed, as she nestled up
to him.
"You do not regret already?" she whispered.
"Regret?" Rent murmured passionately. "I will never do that. But one
does not burn one's boats and mock all the shibboleths without realising
the responsibilities that one is casting aside. I do hope that you
understand that much, Kate."
Under cover of the darkness, the woman yawned slightly. She was
beginning to long now for the life and bustle of the hotel, and,
besides, she had not dined as yet, and, like most people who have their
feelings well in hand, she was possessed of a healthy appetite. She
jumped down briskly from the car as it pulled up at the Royal Solent
Hotel, and the hall porter, majestic in his uniform, threw back the
heavy plate-glass doors. To Rent's annoyance, the lounge was thronged
with people in evening dress. He had forgotten the presence of Royalty
in Portsmouth. He had expected to have the hotel pretty much to Kate
and himself. It was no far cry to Southampton, and there was the chance
of being recognized by somebody who knew one or another of them. Still,
sooner or later, the ordeal would have to be encountered and dealt with.
The thought had hardly flashed through Rent's mind before a strikingly
handsome woman in evening dress rose from the lounge and came towards
Kate Charlock. Then, as she caught sight of the man by her side, she
appeared to hesitate, and something like a scornful smile swept across
her dark features, and she slowly went back to her seat. But, all the
same, she continued to stare at Kate Charlock and her companion. Kate
grasped Rent's arm.
"Lady Strathmore," she whispered. "I am certain that she recognised us.
Did you see how she came down the hall and then turned back? I wish we
hadn't come here."
It was the first blow, and the woman staggered under it. She stood
there, perplexed and uneasy. In a dim kind of way she comprehended the
fact that Arnold Rent was ordering rooms for himself and Mrs. Charlock.
It all came to her in a kind of dream. But she roused herself presently
as Rent laid his hand upon her arm.
"This way," he said. "Come along."
They passed up the whole length of the lounge, so near to Lady
Strathmore that Kate Charlock could have touched her. For the life of
her she could not restrain one glance in the direction of the woman in
black, and just for a brief moment their eyes met. Lady Strathmore's
face was rigid as a mask, and her features had just a tinge of scornful
amusement upon them. But there was not the slightest trace of
recognition. Then, as the couple passed by, Lady Strathmore turned and
whispered something to her companion, and both broke into a rippling
laugh. With a feeling of thankfulness, Kate Charlock opened the
sitting-room door.
"That is done," Arnold Rent said. He placed his hands on the woman's
shoulders and looked down into her eyes. "Never mind, Kate. Always be
kind to me, because, for your sake, I have given up my life's ambition
to-night."
In a kind of fever, Rent went down the stairs in the direction of the
lounge. He was furiously angry now and inclined to be quarrelsome. He
would have liked to have it out with the woman who had slighted Kate
Charlock. A month ago he would have laughed at his own folly and been
scornfully amused at the idea that he should so far forget himself,
though he had long had a passionate admiration for Kate. Even now, he
was not quite clear what he was going to do. Up to the present he was
inclined to play the honourable part. Even now he had only the woman's
true interests at heart. Strange that he should have been so foolish.
Strange that he should have imagined that his mother would take the same
view of the matter as himself. But, then, she had always spoilt him in
the past, and, though she was a rigid Puritan, doubtless she would
continue to do so in the future.
Rent was shaken out of these thoughts by a hotel servant who approached
him with a telegram. The man held out the envelope.
"You are Mr. Rent, sir?" he said. "Pardon me, but I think this must be
for you. It is so strange a name."
Rent looked at the envelope in wonderment. No doubt the message was for
him, though he was at a loss to know how any friend could have found him
out. He opened the message and read:
"Danger here. Come back at once."
"How did they find me?" he murmured. "How did they get on my track? It
was thoughtful, at any rate. Still, danger or no danger, I cannot go
back."
*CHAPTER XI*
*THE DOCTRINE OF PLATO*
Across the breakfast-table Kate Charlock was smiling sweetly, but it was
doubtful whether she heard a single word that Rent was saying. She was
busy with her own thoughts, which were none of the sweetest. In the
first instance she thought that she had counted the cost of her action,
but on second thoughts she was not so sure. Still, she was satisfied
she could not have complied with John Charlock's order, for it was
nothing else. She would have to make the best of it now. She was eager
to get away from England until the scandal had blown over. Kate
Charlock was by no means devoid of vanity, and Lady Strathmore's studied
insolence of the evening before had cut her to the quick. There was the
danger of a repetition of this kind of thing so long as she and Rent
remained at the Royal Solent Hotel.
But she was not blind to the material side of things. It had been the
height of folly to go further without having first made overtures to
Arnold's mother. If she should display anything like hostility, then,
indeed, Kate might be said to have stepped out of the frying-pan into
the fire.
"Oh, you needn't feel worried about that," Rent said, looking up from
his paper. "No one ever yet was afraid of my mother. She is gentle and
kind-hearted, but if she takes up the cudgels on anybody's behalf she
can be amazingly firm. I don't think you need have any anxiety as to my
mother."
The shadow of a contemptuous smile flickered across Kate Charlock's
face. From her point of view, Rent's description of his mother was not
reassuring. It was an outbreak of firmness of this kind that Kate
Charlock had most reason to dread. It never occurred to Rent that his
mother's firmness might take a wrong direction. Despite his handsome
face and intellectual strength, it seemed to Kate that in many respects
he was little better than a boy compared with her. The saint-like woman
by his side could have acted as school-mistress to him. In her mind's
eye she already pictured Mrs. Rent, heart-broken and humiliated at the
prospect of the ruin of her son's prospects, and never yet was there
mother who regarded her son's wife as in any way worthy of him. While
Rent was babbling praises of his mother, Kate sat pondering the
magnitude of the task which lay before her. So far she had hesitated to
discuss the plan of campaign, but it would have to be done now. The
proper thing was to strike while the iron was hot, to go straight to
Devonshire and confront Mrs. Rent with the cataclysm before she had time
to hear of it from good-natured friends outside.
"Of course, your mother will have to know," she said sweetly and
thoughtfully. "I am looking forward to seeing her, and yet I dread the
thought of meeting her. You will have to be prepared for a
disappointment, Arnold. Your mother is certain to be shocked. She
would be less than human if she does not lay all the blame upon my
shoulders."
"Never," Rent cried. "I will make it quite clear that the blame is
entirely mine. I wrote a long letter to my mother before breakfast,
fully explaining everything----"
"You have not posted it, I hope. No? Well, I am glad of that, because
I would prefer that letter not to go. There is only one thing for
it--we must travel to Devonshire at once and your mother must receive
the first intimation of what has happened from your own lips. Of
course, I shall come with you. I am looking forward to the interview
with the greatest possible dread, but my duty is clear. Besides, we
must get away from here. Can't we go this very afternoon?"
Rent reproached himself for his thoughtless selfishness. He was
prepared to do anything that his companion desired. But nothing could
be settled before lunch. Most of the people had finished their
luncheon, so that the two had the room to themselves. From the long
balcony outside came the sound of voices, and Kate Charlock flushed
uncomfortably as she recognised Lady Strathmore's tones. She had an
uneasy feeling that she was the subject of discussion. A moment or two
later Lady Strathmore herself came into the dining-room. She flashed a
brilliant smile in Rent's direction, but she seemed to be unaware that
he was not alone. A sudden anger possessed Kate Charlock. With
audacious passion she came forward and held out her hand.
"You seem to have forgotten me," she said sweetly.
"Absolutely," the other woman murmured. "I am afraid you have a
distinct advantage over me, though when I come to look at you again I
see you bear a strong likeness to Mrs. John Charlock. But, of course, a
dear saint like that would never so far compromise herself as to be
lunching here with any man but her husband. Mr. Rent, can I have a few
moments' conversation with you?"
The stroke was so swift and merciless, so utterly unexpected, that Kate
Charlock had no reply. Overwhelmed and uncomfortable, with the tears
smarting in her eyes, she sank into a chair, without the slightest
attempt to detain Rent. His face was crimson, too. The corners of his
sensitive mouth trembled, but he followed Lady Strathmore politely to
the balcony.
"I am going to be candid with you," she said. "Oh, I quite understand
how things are. I am a woman of the world and can judge for myself. It
is a pity you are not a man of the world, also, or this would never have
happened. Can't you see for yourself that you ought not to stay here?
Surely you recognised me last night. I am speaking for your own good,
because you are a young man whose education in some respects has been
sadly neglected. Take my advice----"
"You are mistaken," Rent exclaimed. "And as regards Mrs. Charlock, she
is as good and pure as any woman----"
"Oh, I have heard all that before," Lady Strathmore said, with a pitying
smile. "You see, I happen to belong to the same set as Mrs.
Bromley-Martin, and we are not so shallow-minded and frivolous as you
appear to imagine. One side of a story always holds good till the other
is told. Don't you think John Charlock has a side to the story as well?"
Rent muttered something incoherent. Recalling to mind now his strange
interview with John Charlock, he could not see that the latter had a
single claim to consideration. It was useless to discuss that matter
with this hard, worldly woman.
"I see that I am wasting your time," Lady Strathmore went on. "Still, I
might as well tell you that Mrs. Bromley-Martin and some of her friends
are coming to have tea with me this afternoon at four o'clock, and if in
the meanwhile you discover that you have important business elsewhere,
why--well, good-bye. Wonderfully fresh and bracing atmosphere this
morning, don't you think?"