"BERTHA!" His tone of contempt surprised her. She had supposed that Mrs.
Shallum's presence had made the visit perfectly correct.
"You went without knowing his parents, and without their inviting you?
Don't you know what that sort of thing means out here? Chelles did it
to brag about you at his club. He wants to compromise you--that's his
game!"
"Do you suppose he does?" A flicker of a smile crossed her lips. "I'm
so unconventional: when I like a man I never stop to think about such
things. But I ought to, of course--you're quite right." She looked at
Van Degen thoughtfully. "At any rate, he's not a married man."
Van Degen had got to his feet again and was standing accusingly before
her; but as she spoke the blood rose to his neck and ears. "What
difference does that make?"
"It might make a good deal. I see," she added, "how careful I ought to
be about going round with you."
"With ME?" His face fell at the retort; then he broke into a laugh. He
adored Undine's "smartness," which was of precisely the same quality
as his own. "Oh, that's another thing: you can always trust me to look
after you!"
"With your reputation? Much obliged!"
Van Degen smiled. She knew he liked such allusions, and was pleased that
she thought him compromising.
"Oh, I'm as good as gold. You've made a new man of me!"
"Have I?" She considered him in silence for a moment. "I wonder what
you've done to me but make a discontented woman of me--discontented with
everything I had before I knew you?"
The change of tone was thrilling to him. He forgot her mockery, forgot
his rival, and sat down at her side, almost in possession of her waist.
"Look here," he asked, "where are we going to dine to-night?"
His nearness was not agreeable to Undine, but she liked his free way,
his contempt for verbal preliminaries. Ralph's reserves and delicacies,
his perpetual desire that he and she should be attuned to the same key,
had always vaguely bored her; whereas in Van Degen's manner she felt a
hint of the masterful way that had once subdued her in Elmer Moffatt.
But she drew back, releasing herself.
"To-night? I can't--I'm engaged."
"I know you are: engaged to ME! You promised last Sunday you'd dine with
me out of town to-night."
"How can I remember what I promised last Sunday? Besides, after what
you've said, I see I oughtn't to."
"What do you mean by what I've said?"
"Why, that I'm imprudent; that people are talking--"
He stood up with an angry laugh. "I suppose you're dining with Chelles.
Is that it?"
"Is that the way you cross-examine Clare?"
"I don't care a hang what Clare does--I never have."
"That must--in some ways--be rather convenient for her!"
"Glad you think so. ARE you dining with him?"
She slowly turned the wedding-ring upon her finger. "You know I'm NOT
married to you--yet!"
He took a random turn through the room; then he came back and planted
himself wrathfully before her. "Can't you see the man's doing his best
to make a fool of you?"
She kept her amused gaze on him. "Does it strike you that it's such an
awfully easy thing to do?"
The edges of his ears were purple. "I sometimes think it's easier for
these damned little dancing-masters than for one of us."
Undine was still smiling up at him; but suddenly her grew grave. "What
does it matter what I do or don't do, when Ralph has ordered me home
next week?"
"Ordered you home?" His face changed. "Well, you're not going, are you?"
"What's the use of saying such things?" She gave a disenchanted laugh.
"I'm a poor man's wife, and can't do the things my friends do. It's not
because Ralph loves me that he wants me back--it's simply because he
can't afford to let me stay!"
Van Degen's perturbation was increasing. "But you mustn't go--it's
preposterous! Why should a woman like you be sacrificed when a lot of
dreary frumps have everything they want? Besides, you can't chuck me
like this! Why, we're all to motor down to Aix next week, and perhaps
take a dip into Italy--"
"OH, ITALY--" she murmured on a note of yearning.
He was closer now, and had her hands. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?
As far as Venice, anyhow; and then in August there's Trouville--you've
never tried Trouville? There's an awfully jolly crowd there--and the
motoring's ripping in Normandy. If you say so I'll take a villa there
instead of going back to Newport. And I'll put the Sorceress in
commission, and you can make up parties and run off whenever you like,
to Scotland or Norway--" He hung above her. "Don't dine with Chelles
to-night! Come with me, and we'll talk things over; and next week we'll
run down to Trouville to choose the villa."
Undine's heart was beating fast, but she felt within her a strange lucid
force of resistance. Because of that sense of security she left her
hands in Van Degen's. So Mr. Spragg might have felt at the tensest hour
of the Pure Water move. She leaned forward, holding her suitor off by
the pressure of her bent-back palms.
"Kiss me good-bye, Peter; I sail on Wednesday," she said.
It was the first time she had permitted him a kiss, and as his face
darkened down on her she felt a moment's recoil. But her physical
reactions were never very acute: she always vaguely wondered why
people made "such a fuss," were so violently for or against such
demonstrations. A cool spirit within her seemed to watch over and
regulate her sensations, and leave her capable of measuring the
intensity of those she provoked.
She turned to look at the clock. "You must go now--I shall be hours late
for dinner."
"Go--after that?" He held her fast. "Kiss me again," he commanded.
It was wonderful how cool she felt--how easily she could slip out of his
grasp! Any man could be managed like a child if he were really in love
with one....
"Don't be a goose, Peter; do you suppose I'd have kissed you if--"
"If what--what--what?" he mimicked her ecstatically, not listening.
She saw that if she wished to make him hear her she must put more
distance between them, and she rose and moved across the room. From the
fireplace she turned to add--"if we hadn't been saying good-bye?"
"Good-bye--now? What's the use of talking like that?" He jumped up and
followed her. "Look here, Undine--I'll do anything on earth you want;
only don't talk of going! If you'll only stay I'll make it all as
straight and square as you please. I'll get Bertha Shallum to stop over
with you for the summer; I'll take a house at Trouville and make my wife
come out there. Hang it, she SHALL, if you say so! Only be a little good
to me!"
Still she stood before him without speaking, aware that her implacable
brows and narrowed lips would hold him off as long as she chose.
"What's the matter. Undine? Why don't you answer? You know you can't go
back to that deadly dry-rot!"
She swept about on him with indignant eyes. "I can't go on with my
present life either. It's hateful--as hateful as the other. If I don't
go home I've got to decide on something different."
"What do you mean by 'something different'?" She was silent, and he
insisted: "Are you really thinking of marrying Chelles?"
She started as if he had surprised a secret. "I'll never forgive you if
you speak of it--"
"Good Lord! Good Lord!" he groaned.
She remained motionless, with lowered lids, and he went up to her and
pulled her about so that she faced him. "Undine, honour bright--do you
think he'll marry you?"
She looked at him with a sudden hardness in her eyes. "I really can't
discuss such things with you."
"Oh, for the Lord's sake don't take that tone! I don't half know what
I'm saying...but you mustn't throw yourself away a second time. I'll do
anything you want--I swear I will!"
A knock on the door sent them apart, and a servant entered with a
telegram.
Undine turned away to the window with the narrow blue slip. She was glad
of the interruption: the sense of what she had at stake made her want to
pause a moment and to draw breath.
The message was a long cable signed with Laura Fairford's name. It told
her that Ralph had been taken suddenly ill with pneumonia, that his
condition was serious and that the doctors advised his wife's immediate
return.
Undine had to read the words over two or three times to get them into
her crowded mind; and even after she had done so she needed more time to
see their bearing on her own situation. If the message had concerned
her boy her brain would have acted more quickly. She had never troubled
herself over the possibility of Paul's falling ill in her absence, but
she understood now that if the cable had been about him she would have
rushed to the earliest steamer. With Ralph it was different. Ralph was
always perfectly well--she could not picture him as being suddenly at
death's door and in need of her. Probably his mother and sister had had
a panic: they were always full of sentimental terrors. The next moment
an angry suspicion flashed across her: what if the cable were a device
of the Marvell women to bring her back? Perhaps it had been sent
with Ralph's connivance! No doubt Bowen had written home about
her--Washington Square had received some monstrous report of her
doings!... Yes, the cable was clearly an echo of Laura's letter--mother
and daughter had cooked it up to spoil her pleasure. Once the thought
had occurred to her it struck root in her mind and began to throw out
giant branches. Van Degen followed her to the window, his face still
flushed and working. "What's the matter?" he asked, as she continued to
stare silently at the telegram.
She crumpled the strip of paper in her hand. If only she had been alone,
had had a chance to think out her answers!
"What on earth's the matter?" he repeated.
"Oh, nothing--nothing."
"Nothing? When you're as white as a sheet?"
"Am I?" She gave a slight laugh. "It's only a cable from home."
"Ralph?"