THE SPEAKING-TUBE
Severance accepted the invitation to the Ritz. His principal reason for
doing so was because he knew it would enrage Garth.
It was a strange and strained luncheon, for those present (with the
exception of "Pobbles") talked very little and thought so much that it
seemed to each one as if his or her thoughts shrieked aloud or shot from
the head in streaks of blue lightning.
Marise thought, "What comes next? What does _He_ mean to do?" And "He,"
with a capital "H," was no longer Severance, but this stranger, Garth.
Mrs. Sorel thought, "How _are_ we going to get rid of the man? I'm sure
he means mischief. Shall I appeal to Lord Severance, or would that make
matters worse?"
Severance thought, "How am I to get some time alone with Marise, and
come to an understanding before I sail to-morrow morning? How are we to
arrange about our _letters and cables_?"
And Garth thought, "What will She say when she finds out what I've
arranged at the Plaza?"
As for Lord Pobblebrook, he had only vague, pleasant thoughts such as
men of his type do have at a wedding luncheon with plenty of champagne.
It was a very good luncheon, for they do things well at the Ritz, and
the champagne was a last song of glory before America went "dry."
At last, when Severance had to give up hope of a whispered word with
Marise, he was obliged to declare his hand. "I'll call at the theatre
to-night to say good-bye if you don't mind," he announced aloud, with a
casual air. "I suppose you won't hand things over to your understudy, in
spite of what's happened to-day?"
"I shall play to-night, of course," said Marise.
"And every night," added Mums.
Silence followed her words.
"Won't you come back to the Plaza with us, Lord Pobblebrook?" asked Mrs.
Sorel. "If you have never been there, I'd like you to see what a
charming hotel it is. Next time you run over from dear England, you
might like to try it for yourself. Major Garth, I'm sorry to say, is
obliged to attend to business this afternoon--business concerned with
his _mission_, so unfortunately--unless you'll go with us--my daughter
and I will be obliged to taxi back alone."
"Of course I'll come, with pleasure!" heartily consented Pobbles.
"My business doesn't begin quite so early," said Garth. "If you'll drive
with Mrs. Sorel, sir, I'll take my wife as far as the Plaza."
If Mums could have stabbed her son-in-law, not fatally but painfully,
with a stiletto-flash from her eyes, it would have given her infinite
satisfaction to do so. As she could not, she had to confess herself
worsted for the moment; for Lord Pobblebrook was the Colonel of Lord
Severance as well as of Major Garth; and it was for such as he that the
conventional farce of this wedding had taken place. He must not be
allowed to suspect that anything was wrong, or Tony's whole elaborate
scheme might be wrecked. It was most probable that Lord Pobblebrook and
Mr. Ionides belonged to some of the same London clubs and met now and
then.
Marise was oddly dazed at finding herself alone in a taxi with Garth,
bound for the Plaza Hotel, which she thought of as "home." She had
expected that Tony or Mums would succeed in rescuing her, but neither
had risen to the occasion: and the girl realised that this lack of
initiative on their part was due to the presence of Pobbles. She hardly
knew whether to be more vexed or amused at Garth's triumph (she supposed
that he considered it such); but her lips twitched with that fatal sense
of humour which Mums so disapproved.
"It is rather funny, isn't it?" said her companion.
Marise stiffened. This was a critical moment. Much depended upon the
start she made on stepping over the threshold of this strange situation.
She must be careful to keep the whip hand.
"What I was laughing at is funny, in a way," she grudged. "It
occurred to me that it was smart of you to bring your Colonel
to--to--the--er----"
"Show," suggested Garth.
"If you like to call it that."
"I thought the word pretty well described it from your point of view,"
explained Garth.
Marise looked straight at him.
"What was it from yours? It can't have been much more."
"I don't feel bound to tell you what it was from mine."
"Oh, well, you needn't!" Her chin went up. "I'm not really curious."
"Why should you be? You'll find out in time."
A spark lit the blue eyes under the blue hat.
"I do hope you're not planning to spring any surprises on me, Major
Garth," she said, in an acid tone that was a youthful copy of Mums,
"because, if you are, it will only lead to unpleasantness. Whereas, if
you keep to the spirit of the bargain, we----"
"Allow me to point out," Garth cut in, with an impersonal air of
detachment which puzzled her, "that you yourself have 'queered' the
'bargain.'"
"I don't know what you mean," exclaimed Marise.
"That's another instance of your not thinking things out beforehand," he
said. "If you'd stopped to reflect a minute before you proposed to marry
me this morning you'd have seen what you were up against."
Marise felt the blood rush to her cheeks, as if the man had slapped them
with the flat of his big hand.
"What a way of putting it!" she flashed at him. "You may be a hero and
all that--no doubt you are, as you're a V.C. But as a man--a
_gentleman_--I'm afraid you've got quite a lot to learn."
"Of course I have," said Garth. "You knew I was only a temporary
gentleman. I heard Severance state the fact to you on shipboard when he
was telling you some of my other disadvantages. Scratch a temporary
gentleman, and under the surface you find----"
"What?" Marise threw into a pause.
"The things you'll find in me, when you know me better."
"Oh!" she breathed. And on second thoughts added, "I don't intend to
'scratch' you, and find things under the surface. I don't suppose I
shall ever know you much better."
"Call it worse, then," he suggested.
"Neither better, nor worse!"
"Yet you've just promised to take me for both."
"That meant nothing, as you know very well."
"I do not know anything of the sort."
"Then you _are_ a 'temporary gentleman' indeed! We spoke just now of
that bargain----"
"Which, through your own actions, doesn't exist."
"Of course it exists. You talk in riddles!"
"When you put your mind to this one, it will cease to be a riddle.
You'll guess it in a moment. You'll see what you've done. Probably
Severance would have told you before this if he'd had the chance. The
explanation, if there has to be one, will come better from him than from
me. But I may as well break one small detail to you before we get to the
hotel; I've no intention of leaving him alone with you for a minute, or
any part of a minute, before he sails."
"How dare you hope to lay down the law for me?" Marise almost gasped,
over a wildly-throbbing heart. "I shall see Lord Severance alone as much
as I choose--and as he chooses."
"You can try," said Garth. "So can he."
"_You_ won't have any chance to prevent it! You shan't even come into my
mother's suite at the Plaza Hotel if you attempt to put on these
ridiculous airs of being my master. I wonder who you think you _are_,
Major Garth?"
"The important thing--to you and your mother and to Severance--is not so
much what I think I am, as what other people will think I am. They will
think I'm your husband. I understand that this marriage idea was
entirely for appearance' sake?"
"Exactly!" cried Marise.
"Then it's up to you and me to look after the appearances. I warned you
this morning that you hadn't thought the thing out enough, and that
you'd better think hard, then and there. Perhaps you did. If so,
you----"
"I didn't. How could I? There was no time."
"That's what you said. Consequently I had to do the thinking for you.
And the arranging of your future. I never was a slow chap. My life was
always more or less of a hustle since I was a very small kid, and I had
to keep my thinking machine on the jump. The war has speeded it up a
bit. This morning, when you announced that you'd be ready to be married
in an hour or less, I'll tell you just what I had to do. I had to inform
the manager of your hotel that I was marrying Miss Sorel, and that we
couldn't get away from New York for a few days----"
"You--dared to do that!"
"I got my V.C. for doing something almost as dangerous. I told him he
must give us a suite----"
"You--you _devil_!"
"Thank you. I guess even that sounds more natural from a wife to a
husband than 'Major Garth.'"
"You don't dream I'm going to occupy a suite with you, I suppose?"
"I don't dream. I know you are going to occupy that suite, unless you
want me openly to leave you on our wedding day. This comes of your not
thinking what would happen next. You'd better choose now, because we'll
soon be at the Plaza. Is it to be my hotel or not?"
"You said--when my mother explained to Lord Pobblebrook that you had a
mission--you said you were going West."
"And that I intended to take you with me. But that won't be for a few
days, till you've had time to settle your affairs. I don't want to rush
you. What I ask you to decide now is for meanwhile, before we start."
"I shall never start anywhere with you--or live anywhere meanwhile with
you."
"Very well then, that's that. Now I know where I am." He seized the
speaking-tube, but Marise caught his hand.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"Stop the taxi and get out. The snap's off."
The girl was about to exclaim, "But you can't leave me like this!" when
it occurred to her that, desperado as he was turning out, it would be
well to take him at his word; at all events, to a certain extent.
"Very well," she said. "I shall tell everyone that you've gone West on
an important mission. V.C.'s are always expected to have missions."
"And I shall tell everyone that I've done nothing of the sort. I'll go
back to the Belmore, 'phone to the Plaza and countermand the suite I
took, and allow myself to be interviewed by all the reporters, who'll
swarm round me like flies round a honeypot. There'll be plenty of flies
left for you. You can give them honey or vinegar, I don't care which.
It's your concern, not mine. I don't even care what they make of the
combination: my story and yours. It'll be _some_ story, though. That's
the one thing sure."
"You're an absolute brute!" cried Marise.
"What did you expect? You heard from Severance that I was a bounder. I'm
a fighting man. That's about all, for the moment."
"You mean, you're fighting me?"
"Not in the least. I'm fighting the battle of appearances, which means
I'm fighting _for_ you."
"What makes you think there'll be reporters waiting?" Marise changed the
subject. "Did you tell anyone?"
"The manager of your hotel and mine. I didn't tell him in confidence.
There was no idea of keeping the marriage a secret, was there?"
"No-o."
"Well, then! Am I or am I not to stop the taxi and get out?"
"Wait," Marise temporised. "You must please understand that I'm not
going to live with you as your wife."
"I haven't asked you to do so, although you did ask me to become your
husband. After last Sunday, I would never have started the subject, or
even have tried to meet you again. Please, on your part, understand
that."
The girl's breath was caught away for the dozenth time. She spoke more
quietly. "I know you haven't asked me, in so many words," she admitted.
"But you spoke of a _suite_."
"Certainly I spoke of a suite. I thought you and your mother were
anxious to keep up conventions. Though I'm not Severance's sort of
gentleman--perhaps _because_ I'm not--you can trust me not to behave
like a brute, even though you're thinking that I speak like one. Or, if
you can't trust me as far as that, you ought never to have run the risk
you have run."
"But can I trust you--to keep to the bargain?"
"I've told you that owing to your own act, there _is_ no bargain.
Haven't you solved that 'puzzle' yet?"
"I have not."
"You will soon. Do I stop here?"
"Bargain or no bargain then, _can_ I trust you?"
"Look me in the face and judge."
She looked him in the face.
In spite of the war tan, not faded yet, he was pale; and his pupils
seemed to have flowed like ink over the yellow-grey iris. His eyes were
black as they blazed into hers. He might, she thought, commit murder in
that mood, but--he could do nothing mean, nothing sly, nothing vile.
"I must trust you, and I do."
Garth let the speaking-tube fall.