HER HUSBAND
Even an unobserving man--and Colonel Robert Darcy was not that--could
hardly have helped seeing that his presence was unwelcome, and that he
had interrupted an important interview.
"I beg your pardon," he said, "I fear I've intruded."
The Secretary said nothing, and Miss Fitzgerald came to the rescue by
declaring that she was very glad to see him, and that she had no idea he
would be in Sussex so soon.
"The fact is, I particularly wanted to see you," he replied bluntly.
Thereupon Mr. Stanley did that most unpardonable thing in good
society--lost his temper and gave evidence of the fact; a piece of
egotism often noticeable in young men during their first years of social
life, before a severe course of snubbing has taught them of how little
relative importance they really are.
"Three's an impossible number for a tete-a-tete," he said stiffly, "so
if you'll excuse me," and he started to leave her side.
Up to this point Belle had been in some doubt as to how she ought to
act; but when the Secretary took the initiative, it at once gave her
her cue, and she was quick to save the situation.
"There are no secrets between friends," she said hastily, "and you're
both friends of mine, so I shall expect you to be friends of each
other's."
"This is Colonel Robert Darcy, Jimsy--we call him Bob for short," she
rattled on, laughing nervously. "And now, Bob, why have you arrived so
unexpectedly in Sussex?"
"I think you've forgotten to introduce me to Colonel Darcy, Miss
Fitzgerald," suggested Stanley.
"Dear me, I believe I have," replied that lady, calmly. "Bob, this is
Jimsy; Jimsy, this is Bob--that'll do for the present. I'll tell you the
rest of his names, titles and appurtenances when I've more time and less
to talk about. So now we are friends and have no secrets from each
other, therefore out with yours."
Darcy laughed.
"You see, Jimsy," continued Miss Fitzgerald, turning to the Secretary,
"though I'm young and ignorant, men have always come to me for advice,
or, perhaps, for the use of my intuition."
"I'm sure I trust Colonel Darcy will profit by it; but even our
well-established friendship gives me no right to play third party to his
confidences, and as I promised Kingsland a game of pool----"
"Ah, but you mustn't go; really you mustn't," expostulated the Colonel,
"or you'll make me feel I've intruded."
Stanley felt that it was not his fault if that officer did not already
possess those sentiments, and was about to stand to his decision, when
Miss Fitzgerald pulled him down beside her, saying:
"Don't talk nonsense, Jimsy. I'm dying to hear Bob's secrets, and he's
been here five minutes already, and we haven't allowed him to get a word
in edgewise."
Thus admonished, the Secretary had no choice but to be an unwilling
listener.
"I'm sure I don't know why I should dignify my affairs by the name of
secrets," began Darcy, with ill-attempted nonchalance, "or why I should
be reticent about speaking of them, either. It's more than the Press
will be in the next few days," and he laughed harshly.
"My dear Bob!" exclaimed Miss Fitzgerald, with a horror that was meant
to be assumed, but nevertheless had a touch of reality about it. "My
dear Bob! I knew you were bad, but don't tell me you're as bad as all
that!"
"I'm afraid so," he replied. Then turning to Stanley, continued, "I
suppose you've not the misfortune to be married?"
"I'm a single man," replied the Secretary, who, under the circumstances,
felt that a mere statement of fact was infinitely better than an
expressed opinion.
"Then of course you can't conceive the pleasures of anticipation which
the prospect of the divorce court arouses in the mind of a husband."
"I can imagine that the point of view would largely depend on his own
status in the case."
"You don't mean to tell me, Bob," cried Miss Fitzgerald, "that she's
been foolish enough----!"
"Oh, I'm the accused in the present indictment. But, fortunately for me,
women are by nature inconsistent."
"Why do you say that?" she asked.
"Why? Because, having run away from my house and secured legal
assistance in London to bring suit against me--well, on statutory
grounds, she has, as a proof of her injuries, seen fit to take up her
residence at the bachelor quarters of her Secretary of Legation."
"What! Is she there now?" cried Miss Fitzgerald, her eyes flashing, as
she turned them full on Stanley.
That gentleman, who had foreseen this _denouement_ from the first, half
rose to his feet with a view of crushing his defamer, but the Colonel's
next statement so staggered him that he sunk back in his seat.
"No," replied that officer, in answer to Miss Fitzgerald's question.
"No. London life didn't seem to agree with them, so they've made a
little expedition into Sussex together; in fact, they're both here, or
hereabouts."
"What do you say?" cried Belle, quite dazed by this astounding
declaration.
"Oh, it's quite true. She actually had the effrontery to write me
requesting that I send her belongings to his chambers. Of course I got
no satisfaction in London, for my young man, with a discretion far
beyond his years, promptly left for parts unknown. I didn't search for
him, I watched her. I knew I could trust her to put me on the scent, if
not to lead me to the quarry. She's quite fulfilled my expectations.
When she left town my detective was on hand, followed her to Liverpool
Street, watched her while she took her ticket, secured a place in
another part of the same train, located her in a farmhouse on this
estate, and, as I suspected, found that among the guests at the Hall was
my co-respondent, Mr. Secretary Aloysius Stanley."
The speaker paused, and absolute silence reigned between them; but he
did not seem to notice the tense muscles of the man or the flushed
anxiety of the woman.
"Well, that's the story," he said shortly. "Not a pretty one, either, is
it; but of course I shall have to see it through, and, as a first step,
I must ask the assistance of you both in meeting this little cad of a
diplomat. After I've settled with him, I shall leave her quite free
to----"
"Stop!" cried the Secretary. "Don't say that, Colonel Darcy. Don't you
dare to say it!"
"What the devil-- I----" began Darcy, completely astonished at the turn
affairs had taken.
"Miss Fitzgerald," continued his companion, "neglected to introduce me
formally, but I will rectify that error. My name is Aloysius Stanley,
and I'm the Secretary of Legation to whom you've presumed to allude in
language for which I shall demand an explanation."
"We'll settle our difficulties at some more appropriate time, sir,"
replied the Colonel, with repressed anger patent in every tone.
"We'll settle them here and now-- I demand a retraction of what you've
just said, or intimated, in regard to my relations with your wife."
"I'll give you the only satisfaction you have a right to expect, and I
to demand, when and where you please."
"Gentlemen! gentlemen!" exclaimed Miss Fitzgerald, fearful of what their
anger might lead to. "Pray remember that you're in the presence of a
lady."
"You need have no fear," said Stanley, in reply to her request, "_I_
shall not forget _myself_." Then turning to Darcy, he continued:
"Did not my profession, which is essentially one of peace, prevent me
from taking any notice of your absurd challenge, I should still refuse
to involve myself in a matter with which I've no concern, merely because
you've been enough of a cad to slander your wife in the presence of a
third person."
"If I ever meet you outside!" began the Colonel, purple with rage--but
the Secretary continued his remarks, oblivious of the interruption.
"There is one thing, however, that I shall do," he said. "Unless you
leave this house immediately, I shall inform my hostess, who has
already refused to include your name in her party, of what I know of
you, and then put you out."
"Do go, Bob!" cried Belle. "Do, to please me."
"Oh, to please you," said Darcy, sulkily, "I suppose I must. But where
I'm to go for a night's lodging, in this God-forsaken place, is quite a
problem."
"Oh, there's a good inn just outside the Lodge gates. I know the
proprietor of it," said Miss Fitzgerald.
"Perhaps you'll give me a line to him," he suggested, "as you're turning
me out, and I've no luggage to insure my respectability."
"Certainly," she replied, "if you've a pencil, and will excuse the back
of an old envelope."
The Colonel nodded, and she took an undirected envelope, which seemed to
be carrying more than it could conveniently hold, from the pocket of her
dress, and hastily scribbled a line on it with the pencil he gave her,
handing them both to him nervously.
"Perhaps," suggested the Secretary coldly, who had watched this
transaction with growing irritation, "it would be as well to remove the
contents of your letter, Miss Fitzgerald. You should be careful to whom
you entrust your correspondence."
She faced him, and looked at him steadily, with those great blue eyes of
hers, while she said, with measured force and deliberation:
"I should be quite willing to trust the contents of any of my letters to
Colonel Darcy's care."
The Colonel had, meantime, been nervously twisting the envelope round
his fingers, and Stanley caught sight of a well-known monogram composed
of the initials A. R. It was the letter he had taken from Kingsland, and
restored to Mr. Riddle. How came it in Belle's hands--the seal still
unbroken, and why was it given to Darcy? His suspicions, so long lulled
by careful artifice, were at once aroused, and he threw the Colonel a
glance, the meaning of which was not lost on the woman. Suddenly, her
whole manner changing, she became nervous and excitable, once more
saying to Darcy:
"Now, go, Bob; go at once, for all our sakes."
He growled a surly reply, and before the Secretary was aware of his
intentions, had left the room.
Stanley stood for a moment, dazed; uncertain whether to follow or
remain, his breast full of conflicting emotions; bewilderment at the
vast field of possibilities opened by the Colonel's receipt of the
letter; rage at his cowardly imputations, and dismay at the consequences
of the strong circumstantial evidence which Madame Darcy had unwittingly
manufactured against him; and at the effect which the Colonel's charges
might produce on Miss Fitzgerald.
He was prepared for hysterics, recriminations, stern questions, scorn,
anger, and endless tears; but totally unprepared for the ringing burst
of laughter which greeted him as soon as the Colonel had left the room;
cold, cynical laughter, from the girl he had just asked to be his wife,
who threw herself on the couch, her eyes flashing and her whole face
twitching with anger or merriment, he was not certain which.
"Oh dear--oh dear!" she cried, when she could at last control her voice,
"this is too funny! too dreadfully funny!"
"I don't see anything amusing about it," he said bluntly. He was angry
and sore, and this ill-timed merriment irritated him.
"Don't you? Then you must have lost your sense of humour. This young
man," she continued, pointing at him, as if she were exhibiting him to a
crowd. "This good young man, who preaches me sermons on
self-respect--who is concerned for my good name--who thinks I've been
too careless of my reputation, who is cut to the heart because I do not
live up to the ideal to which he considers a woman should attain, who
has just done me the honour to ask my hand in marriage--not because he
loves me--oh dear, no--but because he feels it his duty to save me from
myself. This practical young man, who combines pleasure with duty, by
conducting an _affaire du coeur_, in a neighbouring farmhouse, with my
friend's wife, but whose morality is so outraged at the man who is
courteous enough to permit that wife to get the divorce, that he can't
bear to be in the same room with him. This superlatively excellent young
man, who had almost persuaded me that I was wrong in my estimate of
human nature, turns out to be the worst of the lot, a whitened sepulchre
of lying and hypocrisy and deceit--or perhaps I should sum it all up
and say--a model of diplomacy. Isn't it funny--isn't it cruelly,
wickedly humorous? Do you wonder I laugh?"
"If you can believe this of me, Miss Fitzgerald----" began the
Secretary, who had flushed, and then turned as white as a sheet.
"One story's good till another is told, my dear Jimsy; but I was wrong
to have laughed. I quite understand, believe me, the painfulness of your
position."
"I tell you it's not true----" he began.
"Oh, don't try to improve the situation. You can't"--she continued,
rising and towering before him in the majesty of her wrath. "I'd really
come to believe that there was one among the hundreds of worthless,
vicious, mercenary human beings I know, who called themselves men, who
was what he claimed to be; who really believed in the old fallacies of
right and duty, and moral cleanliness, and lived up to them; who really
kept the ten commandments in thought as well as in act, a strong rock of
defence to whom I might cling in time of trouble; but he's a fraud like
all the rest, and the man I made a hero turns out to be of clay!"
She paused, and the Secretary, controlling himself, replied coldly:
"After what you've said, it's of course worse than useless for me to
repeat the question I asked you just before Colonel Darcy intruded his
presence upon us. It had better remain unanswered."
"No," she said. "I don't think so. It needs an answer, and you shall
have it--but not yet. I've been a little fool, and have been punished
for my folly; but I don't know any reason why I should make you suffer.
You're only as you were made. You can't help it, I dare say."
"You surely can't think of marrying me, believing what you do."
"I don't know. While I thought you were an angel, I was afraid of you. I
thought I should have to be constantly living up to you and listening to
sermons;-- Thank Heavens you can never preach to me again. Even you
wouldn't have the face to do it now. But since I've found out that
you're only very human, I really don't know but what I might grow to
love you. I'll think it over. There," she continued, "don't look so
sheepish. I may decide not to take you after all, but until then
consider yourself on approval. Don't say anything more, you'd only bore
me. I want to be by myself and get my face straight, if I can," and
crossing the room she broke out again into peals of ringing, unmusical
laughter.
"This is intolerable!" he cried, but he addressed thin air,--he was
alone.