MRS. CROSBIE.
That same afternoon, when Mr. Haskins was arraying himself in a Bond
Street kit to call on the fascinating widow, he was seized with a
sudden qualm as to the wisdom of his intention. After all, as Tod very
truly observed, Mrs. Crosbie was supposed to be engaged to Major Rebb,
although no official announcement had appeared in _The Morning Post_.
If then he related the secret which was connected with the Pixy's
House and with a pretty girl, Mrs. Crosbie, inspired by jealousy,
might forthwith demand an explanation from Rebb. In that
case--vulgarly speaking--the fat would be on the fire and there would
be a fine blaze.
On the other hand, Gerald wished to enlist Mrs. Crosbie on his side
for two reasons. Firstly, she had been the close friend of his mother,
to whom he had been tenderly attached, and as a boy he had flirted
with her in the calf-love stage. They now were what Tod would call
"pals," and Gerald usually took all his troubles to her, for she was a
wise little woman. Of course there were nasty people who called Mrs.
Crosbie an adventuress, and who said that she had nagged her late
husband to death; but these were in the minority. So far as Haskins
could read character--and he prided himself thereon--Mrs. Crosbie was
a good woman, who certainly ought not to marry a rascal like Rebb. And
that the Major was a rascal Gerald believed--perhaps on insufficient
premises. For after all there might be an honest explanation of the
Pixy's House mystery.
In the second place Haskins wished to remove Mavis from her prison,
and as some time would necessarily have to elapse before he could
marry her he desired to place her under the wing of Mrs. Crosbie.
Since the widow was connected with Rebb, this seemed rather like
putting Mavis into the lion's cage. But Mrs. Crosbie was the sole
woman of Haskins acquaintance of whom he could ask the favor of
chaperoning a young girl. Also, once Mavis was at the flat and
practically beyond Rebb's reach--since he then could not hide her
again--there would be no necessity for further concealment, and the
Major would have to account to Mrs. Crosbie for the detention of his
ward in Devonshire. The explanation--which would have to precede the
marriage of Mrs. Crosbie to Rebb--could then be detailed to Haskins,
and all things would be made straight. Of course, there was always a
chance that they might be too crooked to be straightened. If so, it
was the more necessary that Mavis should be placed in Mrs. Crosbie's
guardianship, and that the little woman's eyes should be opened.
Bearing these things in mind, Haskins descended into the street to
call a hansom, and proceeded to visit Mrs. Crosbie. She dwelt along
with her mother in a palatial block of mansions, known as Ladysmith
Court, and which had been erected by a financier of South African
fame. The mansions were situated near Marylebone Road, and although
the address was not ultra-fashionable the rents were high. When Gerald
paid his cab at the foot of the marble steps, and surveyed the huge
pile of redbrick buildings he reflected that Tod must be wrong about
the widow's financial position. Only a rich woman could afford to live
here, and there could be no money-grubbing idea in connection with the
Rebb marriage, even though the Major had six thousand a year.
Nevertheless it was strange that Mrs. Crosbie should marry Rebb, when
he was so much disliked by Mrs. Berch, of whom her daughter was
extraordinarily fond.
Mrs. Crosbie's flat was on the second floor, and Gerald was shown into
a small but smart drawing-room by a neat maid servant. It was a true
woman's room, luxuriously furnished, prettily decorated, and filled
with all manner of useless knick-knacks and fancy china, and
silver-framed photographs, and Japanese draperies, and finally with
masses of flowers in many-hued vases. The scent of the blossoms and
the perfume of a burning pastille made the atmosphere fragrant, but
somewhat heavy, in spite of the rose-curtained French windows which
opened on to a tiny balcony. Near one of the windows Mrs. Crosbie was
seated, looking somewhat pale and disturbed, and facing her was an
overdressed man, with white hair and moustache, who looked like a
foreigner.
"How are you, Gerald?" asked Mrs. Crosbie, when Haskins was announced,
and addressing him by his Christian name according to custom. "I have
not seen you for ages." She shook hands and looked at him. "How brown
you are, my dear boy. Allow me to introduce you two men. Signor
Venosta, Mr. Haskins. Mr. Haskins, Signor Venosta, who has been
amusing me. Do sit down. Tea will be in presently."
"Alas, madam, but I must depart," said Signor Venosta, who was a
stout, oily-looking Italian of the tenor type, dressed in too gaudy a
style to satisfy Gerald's fastidious taste. "I have been with you one
hour."
"You should add that it has seemed like one minute," said Mrs.
Crosbie, with a pretty little laugh, and waving a fan, for the heat
was stifling. "Well, if you must go, you must!" She rose, and walked
with her visitor to the door, glancing over her shoulder meanwhile.
"Excuse me, Gerald, I shall return soon." And she left the room with
the Italian.
This marked courtesy was not usual with Mrs. Crosbie, as she was a
spoilt beauty, who preferred that others should wait on her, rather
than that she should trouble herself about others. Haskins wondered at
her self-denial, and especially in the face of such heat: wondered
also that she should look so pale and worried. Apparently something
was wrong with Mrs. Crosbie, and he began to conjecture whether Tod
was correct as to money matters. Gerald was not over-rich himself, but
he determined to question his mother's friend, and learn if possible
what bothered her, so that he could proffer help.
His hostess returned after some minutes, and looked quite herself,
but the renewed color might have been due to the reflection of the
rose-hued curtains. She tripped across the olive-green carpet like a
fairy, and resembled one, being delicate and tiny and beautifully
formed. People said that Mrs. Crosbie's blonde hair and pink and white
complexion were due to art, since a woman of forty could not possibly
look so young without artificial aids. But be this as it may, she
certainly appeared wonderfully pretty in her white silk tea-gown,
which was draped with expensive lace. Haskins complimented her
on her looks when she sank again into her chair and took up the
cigarette-case lying on the table at her elbow. "And yet, you know,"
added Gerald thoughtfully, "I fancied that you looked worried and pale
when I came."
Mrs. Crosbie lighted her cigarette and shot a keen glance at him. "We
all have our worries, my dear boy," she said, blowing a wreath of
smoke.
"You should not have any, Mrs. Crosbie. And if there is anything that
I can put right, you know that I----"
"Yes! Yes! I know," she interrupted hurriedly, "but you can't. It
really is nothing--oh, nothing at all. It is the heat that makes me
look pale and washed out. Mother is lying down quite exhausted, but
will be in to tea. I hope no one else will come, Gerald, and then we
can have a nice long talk."
"That is what I have come to have," he said soberly, and produced his
own cigarette-case, which he laid on the table. "Give me a match,
please. Thank you!" he lighted up. "I am in trouble."
"And you have come to me as usual."
"Yes. I hope that I don't carry coals to Newcastle."
Mrs. Crosbie shrugged. "My troubles are only minor ones, such as come
to every woman when she gets past her youth."
"You are in the flower of it."
"And you have known me for years. Gerald, you certainly must have
Irish blood in you, to pay such extravagant compliments. Don't think
too well of me, my dear boy. I have my faults. Why not? Look at the
upbringing that I have had," she ended bitterly.
"Why, your mother is----"
"All that a mother can and should be," interrupted the little woman.
"I know that, Gerald. But her husband, my father, was a brute. My
husband, whom he made me marry in my teens, was a brute. Both my
mother and I have suffered poverty and nearly open shame."
"Poverty!" Gerald glanced round the luxurious room, crowded with such
splendid things.
Mrs. Crosbie shrugged again. "These are only necessities," she said
contemptuously; "fancy a woman of my tastes having to live in a flat,
and being bothered by tradespeople! I want a town house, a country
house, a yacht, a chance of traveling all over Europe like other rich
people. In fact, I want thousands a year, and I have not got them."
Gerald looked down meditatively. So Tod was right after all, and Mrs.
Crosbie was hard up, even to the extent of being dunned by
tradespeople. He wondered if he could help her. "You have known me
long enough to accept a check," he stammered.
She whiffed away the offer contemptuously. "Although I thank you very
much for offering the money," she said graciously, "you always were a
dear boy. But the amount of money I want would ruin you, since I am
aware that you have but the five hundred a year left by your dear
mother. There! there!" she tapped him with her closed fan, "we won't
talk further of these disagreeable things. All will be well."
"When you marry Major Rebb?" asked Haskins pointedly.
"Why not? The Major is not bad-looking, and has a good position, and
at least five thousand a year."
"Six, I believe," corrected Gerald.
"Who told you that?"
"Tod Macandrew. He heard it from your mother."
Mrs. Crosbie nodded. "Yes; I believe that my mother asked Mr.
Macandrew some questions regarding settlements on the chance that I
should marry Major Rebb. But Mr. Macandrew should not have spoken
about this."
"He did not," said Gerald hastily, "you can still trust Macandrew as
your legal adviser. He has not betrayed your confidence regarding
settlements. He merely mentioned Major Rebb's income."
"How did you come to be talking of Major Rebb?"
Gerald flung the fag end of his cigarette into a silver ashtray, and
rose to pace the room. He could always talk better when in motion. "I
want you to help me, Madge," he remarked.
"You mustn't call me Madge," said Mrs. Crosbie, with a look at the
door. "Major Rebb would not like it."
"Then you are engaged?"
"Well, yes. I want money and----"
"Are you quite sure that Rebb has money?"
Mrs. Crosbie started to her feet, and crossing the room gripped the
young man by his arm. Her face was perfectly pale, and her voice
sounded uncommonly hoarse. "What do you mean?"
"I don't mean anything," said Gerald, astonished by her emotion. "Rebb
is no doubt as wealthy as King Solomon. I only meant that you should
make sure of the settlement. As your friend, I could say nothing
else."
But Mrs. Crosbie was not satisfied. "You have heard no rumor to the
effect that Major Rebb is poor, or is likely to lose his money?"
"No! no! no!" said Haskins in perfect good faith, "do sit down and
compose yourself. If anything were wrong in that way I should speak
out."
He could say nothing else, as, of course, his idea regarding a
possible will, and money having been taken from Mavis, was mere
theory. Mrs. Crosbie looked at him piercingly, after which scrutiny
she returned to her seat. Apparently she counted upon this marriage
releasing her from terrible trouble, and dreaded lest it should fall
through. "I wish you would not frighten me," she said querulously, "my
nerves are not strong. Mother and I are going away to Bognor next week
for the change. We both need one very badly. Well," she selected
another cigarette and became more her bright self, which he knew so
well, "so you wish me to help you?"
"Yes. And I wish you to keep what I say to yourself. Promise."
She looked at him hard. "You are very mysterious."
"I am very much in earnest," he rejoined dryly.
Mrs. Crosbie shuffled. "I can't promise until I know what you are
going to say," she observed irritably. Her nerves, as she had said,
were certainly very bad.
"There is something in that," replied Haskins; and felt inclined to
withdraw without telling his story. But after some reflection he
compromised. "At all events you must hold your tongue about my secret
for at least a month," and by naming this time he hoped to deliver
Mavis from her imprisonment within three weeks.
"I promise," said Mrs. Crosbie curiously, "but I know your secret. You
are in love?"
Gerald was startled. "How could you tell that?" he demanded,
astonished.
She laughed, "I am a woman, and observant, as well as intuitive. Look
at your eyes in yonder mirror, at the expression of your face, at your
whole bearing."
"H'm," said Haskins, but half satisfied; "every one is not so clever
as you are, Madge."
"Don't call me Madge, I tell you."
"Yes, I shall when we are alone. Hang it, I have known you for years,
and besides, I wish you to do me a service. I have your promise to
hold your tongue for a month?"
"Yes! yes! yes! Go on! go on. I am all ears."
"My story concerns Major Rebb."
"What? Then you did mean something, when you mentioned him last?"
"I meant nothing that will stop your marriage," said Gerald crossly,
"although I don't know why a nice woman like you, Madge, should marry
him."
Mrs. Crosbie stared. "Major Rebb is supposed to be a delightful man."
"He may be--to those who don't know him."
"I believe that you are jealous," she said, with a nervous laugh,
"well, and how does your secret affect the Major?"
"See here, Madge, you may think me mean, speaking about Rebb to you,
and behind his back. But I am doing so at that risk, because I wish
you to help some one in whom I am interested. Otherwise, I am quite
ready to see Rebb personally and have it out with him. Later on--say
in three weeks, more or less--I shall. For then I hope that Mavis will
be with you here, and quite safe."
"Mavis! Ah, the girl you are in love with. What is she to Major Rebb,
may I ask?" Mrs. Crosbie's voice rose when she put this question, and
her eyes grew as hard as jade, while her face colored a deep red.
"Ah," said Haskins, surprised, "then you love Rebb?"
"No! But he is rich and----I don't see what right you have to ask me
such questions. Go on. What have you to say?"
"If you love Rebb I can't speak."
"I don't love Rebb. Go on. I'll keep my promise."
Gerald hesitated no longer. Rising to his feet he again began to pace
the room, and related the same story as he had told Tod. Only in this
especial instance he suppressed his theory regarding the will and the
money. Mrs. Crosbie listened quietly, and with an expression of
dismay; but she made no remark until he had finished. "You are telling
me a fairy tale," she said quietly.
"Yes, isn't it?" cried Gerald, delighted with her quietness.
"I mean that it is untrue."
"I swear it isn't. Mavis is kept in that Pixy's House, and I found her
by means of the sealed message, as I have described. Now I want you to
get her up here, and look after her until I can marry."
"Who will bring her here?"
"I shall, and within three or four weeks."
"Ah!" said Mrs. Crosbie quietly, "now I see why you asked me to hold
my tongue for a month. Gerald, you are wrong to act in this way. As I
have made a promise I shall keep it; but it will be better for you to
release me from that promise. Then I could ask Major Rebb about his
ward and persuade him to let me have her up here. In any case, when I
marry Major Rebb, I shall have to do with this girl you love."
"What you suggest, Madge, would certainly be better and, I may say,
more straightforward. I hate acting in this way behind Rebb's back,
and I intend later to speak plainly to his face. But you forget how
Rebb has put it about that Mavis is a homicidal maniac. That is
untrue."
"You can't be sure of that, Gerald; you have not seen sufficient of
her to judge. To take a girl, reputed mad, from her seclusion would be
very wicked. Any crime which she might commit would be laid at your
door."
"But surely, Madge, the action of Major Rebb is not that----"
"He may have, and probably has, good grounds for shutting up the
girl."
Gerald bit his lip, beginning to see that, with all his caution, he
had made a dire mistake. "Then you won't help me?"
"No," said Mrs. Crosbie firmly, "how can you expect me to help you
against Major Rebb, when we are engaged to be married? And how can you
ask me to take charge of a girl who is mad?"
"She is not mad, I tell you."
"And I tell you that she is mad; otherwise Major Rebb certainly would
not shut her up. What reason could he have to shut up a sane girl?"
It was on the point of Haskins' tongue to explain his theory, but
having made one mistake--as he plainly saw from Mrs. Crosbie's
attitude--he did not wish to make another. "You will keep your promise
of silence?" he urged earnestly.
"Yes, on condition that you make no attempt to run away with the girl
from that madhouse. I speak in your own interest. You will get into
trouble if you take an insane woman from her lawful guardian."
"You seem to be quite certain that Mavis is mad," said Gerald
bitterly, "however, as you know my secret, and I am at your mercy, I
promise."
"I think that you are very ungrateful," cried Mrs. Crosbie, "many
another woman would have declined to keep, what you call, the secret
at all."
"I have made a mistake," confessed Gerald, and he could have kicked
himself, that he, a man of the world, should be such a fool.
"Well," said Mrs. Crosbie, as the door opened to admit the servant
with afternoon tea, "let us say no more about it. I promise to hold my
tongue for a month, and you promise to leave the girl alone
meanwhile."
Gerald waited until the tea-tray was arranged and the girl had
departed. "No," he said decisively. "I have been wrong, and you have
shown me my duty. I shall call on Major Rebb to-morrow, and explain."
"You cannot," replied Mrs. Crosbie, "the Major is in Devonshire."
This announcement complicated matters. "Then I follow Rebb to
Devonshire," said Gerald doggedly; "my mistake must be put right."