In the Palm Garden of the Carlton Hotel sat a party of four, two of
whom were in the highest spirits, while the faces of the remaining pair
were extremely grave.
Lady Mildred was next to Edward Drake and they exchanged but few
remarks while Captain Drake and Lady Ethel were amusing themselves
by exchanging critical comments upon the fashionable crowd who were
drinking tea.
“You are very silent,” Edward Drake said to John Gaunt’s wife, and she
turned her eyes full upon him.
“Is it true that my husband is addressing another meeting to-night
about the Congo?” she asked in a low voice.
“Yes, and I believe that he contemplates further engagements,” Drake
answered.
“It is evident that you are responsible for this curious change in Mr.
Gaunt’s mode of life. I wonder if you have considered me at all. You
must know that since the big meeting at which I was present my position
has not altogether been a pleasant one. Every friend and acquaintance I
have met has not hesitated to show their curiosity. Cannot you give me
some explanation why all this wretched publicity should be necessary?”
she asked quietly.
Lady Mildred had agreed to accompany her sister solely for the purpose
of having a quiet talk with Drake, but as yet she had not dared to ask
the question, the answer to which she dreaded to hear. Ever since the
previous afternoon when her sister had told her what she had overheard
in the library, her mind had been strangely perturbed. Her first
impulse had been to run to her husband and ask if it were true that he
was going to the Congo, but an unwonted feeling of shyness stayed her.
“Surely you cannot object to Mr. Gaunt’s wish to help the natives? His
purpose is a noble one and worthy of the admiration of all good women,”
he answered simply.
“I have never pretended to be a good woman, Mr. Drake. But you have
not answered my question. Why is all this publicity necessary?” she
persisted.
Drake did not reply, and she smiled faintly when she saw that all his
attention was fixed on Lady Ethel and his brother. For an instant he
was off his guard, and she read the secret which he had not dared yet
to admit to himself.
Edward Drake loved the young girl to whose face animation gave an
additional beauty. And he was thinking that she had never showed to him
the evident liking she felt for his brother. As he watched them talking
eagerly it seemed to him that they might have been friends for years
and he uttered a faint sigh.
“I asked you a question,” Lady Mildred said pointedly.
“I really beg your pardon. I fear that my thoughts were wandering,” he
cried hastily.
“Does my husband intend to return to the Congo?” she asked and her
voice scarcely rose above a whisper.
Drake was astonished and for a few moments did not reply. It had been
easy to guess that the relations between Gaunt and his wife were
strained, and he did not know how far the millionaire intended to give
Lady Mildred his confidence.
“Don’t you think that you should ask your husband?” he suggested
quietly.
The reproach was delicately veiled, yet it was none the less present,
and she was quick to feel it. In an instant her pride was in arms and
when she spoke her voice was very cold.
“I will do so. By the bye, wouldn’t it be only kind to give your
brother a hint? Captain Drake’s admiration is so very open—and Lady
Ethel is so very young,” she added quickly.
If her intention was to wound, she succeeded only too well, for Drake’s
face was grimly set. It was revealed to him with overwhelming force
that he had given himself unreservedly to the beautiful girl who faced
him. At the moment, a reply was impossible, and he struggled fiercely
to give no sign of emotion, for he was conscious that Lady Mildred’s
eyes were fixed keenly upon him; but she relented very quickly.
“Forgive me, Mr. Drake. I should not have said that. I really do not
know what is the matter with me this afternoon,” she said nervously.
Still Drake did not speak, and he turned away his face from her eyes.
It must be remembered that his life had been untouched by the influence
of any woman save his mother, and when love comes to such a one, it is
apt to sweep everything before it. And he understood that marriage with
Lady Ethel was an impossibility. Even should she care for him—and his
blood tingled at the mere idea—how could he offer himself to one who
was accustomed to every luxury? His total income would be insufficient
to provide her with the clothes that she wore so gracefully.
Yes, Lady Mildred was right, for it was impossible to mistake the look
that was in his brother’s eyes—a look of simple adoration. Those who
spend the greater part of their lives in savage countries, away from
their kind, lose all sense of the conventionalities which bind those
who stay at home. For twelve months Lindsay Drake had been surrounded
by black faces and the mere sight of Lady Ethel’s fair beauty had
sent him headlong to her feet. It was not his nature to conceal his
feelings, and she knew that he was her slave, and that she could
do with him as she willed. Every woman must take a delight in the
knowledge that she is loved, and Lady Ethel was no exception, for she
never imagined that there could be any harm in accepting his worship.
But suddenly she chanced to look at Edward Drake, and all the color
ebbed from her face, and she stopped in the middle of a sentence.
There ensued one of those strange silences, in which there is a touch
of constraint, and the arrival of a lady and gentleman at the next
table was a welcome interruption.
“Yes. I was at the meeting, and Gaunt’s speech was the most dramatic
thing that I ever heard in my life,” the man was saying.
“What do you think he did it for—advertisement?” his companion asked.
“No. He is not that kind of man. I’ve met him once or twice and have
found him a most attractive personality. In fact I am making him the
model of one of the characters in my next book. Of course the man’s
been a bit of a blackguard.”
Edward Drake half rose from his chair but Lady Mildred placed her hand
on his arm.
“Sit down, please. It is well to hear one’s neighbor’s opinions,” she
said, and he realized that she would not go.
“But he is an interesting kind of blackguard. If he had lived a few
hundred years ago, he would have been quite a moral character. Just
imagine what colossal impudence a man must possess to do as he did.
Remember that he was as bad as any of the Belgians in the Congo. He
coins a fortune out of the ill-treatment of the natives, and when his
pockets are full he stands up and complacently denounces those who are
doing as he has done.”
“Why do you think that he spoke if not for advertisement?” the lady
asked curiously.
“I am puzzled to find a reason. He spoke with such evident sincerity
that one might almost imagine that he had been suddenly—what the
Salvationists term—‘saved.’ Of course you know that he married that
good-looking woman, Lady Mildred Blythe, and I am wondering what she
thinks of it all. Her ladyship is not the sort of person to——”
“Now I am ready,” Lady Mildred said very quietly, and they made their
way from the corner.
Edward Drake gave a quick look at the speaker from whom they had been
hidden by a group of palms, and recognized a famous novelist who was
quick to see his indiscretion, for he ceased to speak, and his face
became deeply flushed. It chanced that he was acquainted by sight with
Lady Mildred and he half rose, as though it was his intention to follow
and apologize, but quickly subsided into his seat again.
A motor-car was in waiting, and the order was given to return to Park
Lane, but to all of them the drive was unpleasant. Lady Mildred stared
fixedly through the window and remained silent until they reached home.
“I am going to talk to my husband, but afterwards I should like you to
come to my room,” she said to Edward Drake and he bowed in reply.
John Gaunt was in the library and he looked up quickly when his wife
entered but his face remained grave as he stood waiting for her to
speak. It was the first time they had met since their interview of the
previous afternoon, and he wondered what had caused her to come.
“Won’t you sit down?” he said politely.
In the intervening hours he had been carefully considering his attitude
towards his wife and had determined to make no advance until she showed
him plainly that it would be welcome to her.
“I can only stay a minute. We’ve just come from the Carlton. They
say that listeners never hear any good of themselves. I’ve listened
to a very candid opinion about you, and I’m a little upset. John, is
it quite necessary that you should go on with this Congo business?
Couldn’t you give up this meeting to-night and take me out to dinner?”
she asked nervously.
He looked at her eagerly, but her face was quickly turned away, and he
sighed a sigh of utter weariness.
“It is impossible. I must keep my promise. I am sorry that you have
heard anything unpleasant and hope the memory of it will quickly
vanish. I have made up my mind to do all that is in my power to help
the natives of the Congo, and I am not likely to turn back. I must
warn you that the fight is likely to be a severe one, and it is very
probable that I shall suffer, for my opponents are not too particular
in their methods. If you are to suffer with me, I am deeply sorry, but
it cannot be helped,” he said gently.
“I wish that I could understand you,” she said timidly.
“I wish that I could understand myself,” he answered with a smile.
He moved towards the door, but she showed no sign of going.
“Is it true that you are going back to that wretched country?” she
asked desperately.
John Gaunt was surprised at the question, and did not answer at once.
“If it is necessary, I shall go. But why do you ask? Has Drake said
anything to you?” he exclaimed suspiciously.
“Nothing. Doesn’t it strike you that all this is rather hard upon me?
Surely a wife is entitled to her husband’s confidence. Ever since baby
was born you seem to have changed completely. Why does Mr. Drake live
with us? What has he to do with this change?”
It was impossible for him to answer the question without revealing
everything, and he was quite determined that his wife should not know
of the vow that he had made. What could he say to her?
“I believe that he is a good man, but surely it is not necessary to
have him constantly with you?” she continued nervously.
“I like Drake, and I am greatly indebted to him.”
“Won’t you give orders to prepare the yacht and let us go away—just you
and I—for a long voyage? I think I could be very happy with you—alone,”
she said in a low voice, but her eyes were full of appeal.
“I should like nothing better in the world but I can’t do it,” he
answered firmly, but he was struggling fiercely with himself to subdue
the mad desire to take her in his arms and cover her face with kisses.
“Very well,” she answered coldly, and left him.