THE SERIOUS SIDE OF THE SECRETARY'S NATURE
In virtue of his good resolution to point out to Miss Fitzgerald the
error of her ways, the Secretary had been nerving himself to an
interview with her on this delicate question, and as result, when he
found himself alone with Lieutenant Kingsland in the smoking-room after
dinner that evening, both were silent. Each had something to think
about, yet each was thinking about the same thing. The Secretary
abstractedly wondering how he was to commence the awkward interview
which was staring him in the face; while the young officer, relying on
the axiom that "a woman never says what she means," was pondering over
the best way in which to go to work upon his companion, in order to
induce him to open his heart to the lady in question.
"I say, Stanley," he remarked, "do you know Bob Darcy?"
"Darcy? No, I don't think so."
"Why, he's the chap whose wife chaperoned your little dinner that night
at the Hyde Park Club, when Lady Rainsford failed you."
"No, I don't know him. Do you?"
"I--oh, very slightly--I assure you--never exchanged more than half a
dozen words with him in my life."
"I thought you seemed pretty well acquainted at Lady Rainsford's tea."
"I"--faltered the young man--"I think you're mistaken."
Stanley smiled quietly, as the nature of the conversation he had
overheard came back to his mind--he was getting on.
"I'm afraid," he remarked, "that your friend doesn't attract me. What
did you wish to say about him?"
"Only that he's awfully gone on Belle Fitzgerald, means business, and
all that--lucky dog--I think he'll win hands down," and Lieutenant
Kingsland heaved a sigh.
"But he's married, surely?"
"Oh, yes, I believe he is--but it hasn't been an unqualified success. I
understand there's a divorce in the air, and after that--of course----"
"He's treated his wife like a brute!" spluttered Stanley.
"Don't know, I'm sure. He's a jolly good fellow at the club. Any way,
he'd put a job with Belle to do the platonic under Mrs. Roberts'
protecting roof for a week or two, when what does our hostess do but cut
up rusty about his marital infelicities, and refuse to invite him.
Rather a sell on the little Fitzgerald, eh?"
"I'll be obliged to you if you'll mention Miss Fitzgerald more
respectfully in my presence. She's a lady for whom I have the highest
consideration, and who would, I'm sure, if she knew what I know of
Colonel Darcy, cut him off from her list of acquaintances immediately. I
hope you'll not feel called upon to speak of this more than is
necessary," and he rose stiffly and left the room.
Kingsland rolled over on the divan, on which he was sprawled out, and
indulged in a fit of hearty laughter.
"Gad! how he rose to the bait!" he roared. "I supposed Darcy was too old
a story to tempt anyone with; but the world's after all a very small
place." And this, curiously enough, was precisely the reflection which
the Secretary made ruefully to himself, as he sought the captivating
Belle.
As can be understood in the light of that interview in the smoking-room,
the two gentlemen were late in arriving upstairs, and when Stanley did
put in an appearance, Miss Fitzgerald required all her courage to dare
to claim him as her exclusive property and carry him off to the
comparative seclusion of the conservatory, for black care sat heavy on
his brow, and her interview promised to be anything but agreeable.
However, she was nothing if not courageous, and opened the attack at
once, on the ground that the defensive is always the weakest position.
"What an old bear you are to-night, Jimsy. I couldn't get a word out of
you at dinner, and now you look as glum as if you'd lost your last
friend."
"I've been talking to Lieutenant Kingsland," he said bluntly.
"Dear me, if it always has as bad an effect I must contrive to keep you
two apart in the future."
"He's been telling me about your relations with Darcy. Confound it,
Belle!--it's too bad of you! Why, he's a beastly cad. I wouldn't have
him in my house, and to think that the woman I--well, any woman I
respect as much as I do you--should be on intimate terms with a man like
that, makes my blood boil. Great Heavens, have some consideration for
your friends, if you haven't for yourself! Think of what will be said of
you; think----"
"Don't do the heroic, Jimsy, it doesn't become you," she interrupted.
"Give me a cigarette, and see if you can't talk this matter over without
going all to tatters."
"You smoke too much. I don't approve of ladies smoking. It seems so
common."
"Nonsense. It's uncommon not to. I'm dying for a whiff, and one never
gets a chance in that crowd of old fogies. Thank you--now what's all
this disturbance about Colonel Darcy? I declare, I almost believe you
are becoming an old fogy yourself."
"I didn't even know you knew him-- Darcy, I mean-- I object to him
strongly."
"Really, Mr. Stanley, I don't run my acquaintances on the lines of your
choosing."
"Of course not; but I may claim the privilege of a friend."
"To make yourself uncommonly disagreeable; I suppose you may--and I was
feeling so amiable too--just in the mood for an old-time chat. But it
can't be helped. Colonel Darcy's an old friend, and was very kind to me
at a time when I needed friends and hadn't many. I don't know what he
has done or not done, and I don't care. I learned that he was to be in
this neighbourhood shortly on business, and, wishing to make some return
for his past kindness, I proposed to my aunt to invite him here, and
she, who's a woman after your own heart, refused--because, forsooth, he
didn't get on well with his wife--as if his wife mattered to me-- I
certainly didn't want to invite her."
"I assure you," burst out the Secretary, "that she's a most charming
woman, and that her husband has treated her like the cad and brute he
is."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Stanley. I didn't know you were posing as the
knight-errant of hysterical wives."
"I'm not; but I can't stand by and see a lovely and innocent woman
injured."
"I presume I'm not to defend my friend?" she asked, her small foot
tapping the tiled floor in anger.
"You would not wish to do so if you knew his true character."
"I do not wish to prolong this interview, Mr. Stanley. I must remind you
that there are limits even to the rights of friendship, and you have
overstepped them."
"I fear I've forgotten myself, that I've been too vehement. I humbly beg
your pardon. I won't trespass again, believe me. I only spoke for your
good--indeed, I wanted to have a serious talk with you about yourself;
but the spirit in which you receive my suggestions makes it impossible."
"You mustn't say that," she replied, more quietly than she had hitherto
spoken. "But you can surely understand that my friendship would be of
little use to any man if I stood quietly by and let him be denounced
without a word of resentment on my part. Are there other of my friends
of whom you do not approve?"
"It's partly that, but rather the--you'll pardon me--the things that are
said about you, Belle. People--my friends--men as well as women--have
said things in my presence--that I did not like to hear. Things that
show how easy it is for a careless, easy-going nature like yours to be
misinterpreted; in short----"
"In short, they told you I was fast, I suppose, a sordid, scheming,
money-making wretch. Is that correct?"
"Really, Belle!"
"Is that correct? Answer me."
"Well, they certainly wouldn't have used such words in my presence."
"But they meant that--or something like it?"
"I'm afraid they did."
Her face, white enough before, flushed red, as she demanded:
"And you! What did you say?"
"I--I don't remember-- I refused to listen; but I made up my mind to
speak to you-- I thought you ought to know."
"You"--she cried, turning on him in a fury--"you, my friend, as you
call yourself, had no answer to make, did nothing, except to decide to
lecture me about what you should have known to be a lie! Let me tell
you, Mr. Stanley, you'd have done better to defend me--knowing, as you
must know, the slights, the buffets, the insults I've had to endure,
because I'm unprotected, and men can dare----"
"I assure you I did. I didn't believe it of you for an instant."
"You believed it enough to question me as to the truth of these
accusations. It's easy to preach prudence when you've nothing to gain or
lose; but were you a woman, thrown on the world and on her own
resources, you'd find it a different, a very different, thing, and you'd
expect help and encouragement from friends who are stronger and more
fortunate than you--not this!" and she burst into tears.
"Miss Fitzgerald!-- Belle!" he cried, striving to take her hand, "I
wouldn't have pained you in this way for worlds! Believe me, I'm your
friend, your true friend!"
"I've friends enough of your sort," she sobbed, "too many."
"But at least let me explain."
"Don't say any more, please--you've said enough. Good night, you must
excuse me. I--I'm not myself," and touching her handkerchief to her
eyes, with a great effort she controlled herself and left the
conservatory.