There was no wandering alone on the quay for Merefleet that night. It was
very warm and he sat on the terrace with his American friend. Far away
over at New Silverstrand, a band was playing, and the music came floating
across the harbour with the silvery sweetness which water imparts. The
lights of the new town were very bright. It looked like a dream-city seen
from afar.
"I guess we are just a couple of Peris shut outside," said Mab in her
brisk, unsentimental voice. "I like it best outside, don't you, Big
Bear?"
"Yes," said Merefleet, with a simplicity that provoked her mirth.
"Oh, aren't you just perfect!" she said. "You've done me no end of good.
I'd pay you back if I could."
Merefleet was silent. He could not see her beautiful face, but her words
touched him inexplicably.
There was a long pause. Then, to his great surprise, a warm little hand
slipped on to his knee in the darkness and a voice, so small that he
hardly recognised it, said humbly:
"Mr. Merefleet, I'm real sorry."
Merefleet started a little.
"Good heavens! Why?" he said.
"Sorry you disapprove of me," she said, with a little break in her voice.
"Bert used to be the same. But he's different now. He knows I wasn't made
prim and proper."
She paused. Merefleet's hand was on her own. He sat in silence, but
somehow his silence was kind.
She went on. "I wasn't going to speak last night. Only you looked so
melancholy at dinner. And then I thought p'r'aps you were lonely, like
I am. I didn't find out till afterwards that you didn't like the way I
talked."
"Do you know you make me feel a most objectionable cad?" said Merefleet.
"Oh, no, you aren't that," she hastened to assure him. "I'm positive you
aren't that. It was my fault. I spoke first. I thought you looked real
sad. And I always want to hearten up sad folks. You see I've been there,
and I know what it is."
"You!" said Merefleet.
Did he hear a sob in the darkness beside him? He fancied so. The hand
that lay beneath his own twitched as if agitated.
"What do you know about trouble?" said Merefleet.
She did not answer him. Only he heard a long, hard sigh. Then she laughed
rather mirthlessly.
"Well," she said, "there aren't many things in this world worth crying
for. You've had enough of me, I guess. It's time I shunted."
She tried to withdraw her hand, but Merefleet's hold tightened.
"No, no. Not yet," he said, almost as if he were pleading with her. "I've
behaved abominably. But don't punish me like this!"
She laughed again and yielded.
"You ought to know your own mind by now," she said, with something of her
former briskness. "It's a rum world, Mr. Merefleet."
"It isn't the world," said Merefleet. "It's the people in it. Now, Miss
Ward, I have a favour to ask. Promise me that you will never again
imagine for a moment that I am not pleased--more, honoured--when you are
good enough to stop by the way and speak to me. Of your charity you have
stooped to pity my loneliness. And, believe me, I do most sincerely
appreciate it."
"My!" she said. "That's the nicest thing you've said yet. Yes, I promise
that. You're real kind, do you know? You make me feel miles better."
She drew her hand gently away. Merefleet was trying to discern her
features in the darkness.
"Are you really lonely, I wonder?" he said. "Or is that a figure of
speech?"
"It's solid fact," she said. "But, never mind me! Let's talk of something
nicer."
"No, thanks!" Merefleet could be obstinate when he liked. "Unless you
object, I prefer to talk about you."
She laughed a little, but said nothing.
"I want to know what makes you lonely," he said. "Don't tell me, of
course, if there is any difficulty about it!"
"No," she responded coolly. "I won't. But I guess I'm lonely for much the
same reason that you are."
"I have never been anything else since I became a man," said Merefleet.
"Ah!" she said. "I might say the same. Fact is"--she spoke with sudden
startling emphasis--"I ought to be dead. And I'm not. That's my trouble
in a nutshell."
"Great heavens, child!" Merefleet exclaimed, with an involuntary start.
"Don't talk like that!"
"Why not?" she asked innocently. "Is it wrong?"
"It isn't literal truth, you know," he answered gravely. "You will not
persuade me that it is."
"I'm no judge then," she said, with a note of recklessness in her voice.
"You have your cousin," Merefleet pointed out, feeling that he was on
uncertain ground, yet unaccountably anxious to prove it. "You are not
utterly alone while he is with you."
She uttered a shrill little laugh. "Why," she said, "I believe you think
I'm in love with Bert."
Merefleet was silent.
"I'm not, you know," she said, after a momentary pause. "I'm years older
than Bert, anyhow."
"Oh, come!" said Merefleet.
"Figuratively, of course," she explained.
"I understand," said Merefleet. And there was a silence.
Suddenly she laughed again merrily.
"May I share the joke?" asked Merefleet.
"You won't see it," she returned. "I'm laughing at you, Big Bear. You are
just too quaint for anything."
Merefleet did not see the joke, but he did not ask for an explanation.
Seton himself strolled on to the terrace and joined them directly after;
and Mab began to shiver and went indoors.
The two men sat together for some time, talking little. Seton seemed
preoccupied and Merefleet became sleepy. It was he who at length proposed
a move.
Seton rose instantly. "Mr. Merefleet," he said rather awkwardly, "I want
to say a word to you."
Merefleet waited in silence.
"Concerning my cousin," Seton proceeded. "You will probably misread my
motive for saying this. But nevertheless it must be said. It is not
advisable that you should become very intimate with her."
He brought out the words with a jerk. It had been a difficult thing to
say, but he was not a man to shrink from difficulties. Having said it, he
waited quietly for the result.
Merefleet paused a moment before he spoke. Seton had surprised him, but
he did not show it.
"I shall not misread your motive," he said, "as I seldom speculate on
matters that do not concern me. But allow me to say that I consider your
warning wholly uncalled for."
"Exactly," said Seton, "I expected you to say that. Well, I am sorry. It
is quite impossible for me to explain myself. I hope for your sake you
will never be placed in the position in which I am now. I assure you it
is anything but an enviable one."
His manner, blunt and direct, appealed very strongly to Merefleet. He
said nothing, however, and they went in together in unbroken silence.
Mab did not reappear that night.