A DEBT OF HONOUR
It was not until Chris had caught Gay in those long, muscular arms of
his, and lifted her clean off her feet, only to find her fiercely
fighting his kisses, that he realised how completely his feelings had
run away with him, how he had taken everything for granted, and he
begged her forgiveness as he set her gently on the ground.
"Had a bother in the stable--one of my horses gone clean off his
head," he said in his boyish way, "or I should have been here with
the morning milk. I've got grand news, darling, Rensslaer has given
me a berth and house at Elsinore--I'm giving up steeplechasing, and
we're going to be happy ever after!"
"Are we?" she said; it did not sound like Gay's voice at all, and she
was rubbing her lips with a tiny pocket-handkerchief as if she were
trying to rub something out.
"What is the matter?" said Chris, suddenly sobered.
"Oh, nothing," cried Gay, reckless in her pain, "only that so far as
I am concerned, you are welcome to go on steeplechasing for
ever--it's no concern of mine."
"Dear little girl," said Chris remorsefully, "I did neglect you
shamefully last night, but that wonderful jumping--you see those
jumps represented all the most ingenious obstacles invented by
Continental riders, and naturally it's intensely interesting to a man
who 'chases--even if he doesn't do it like them, over trick fences.
And then the riding," he burst out reminiscently, "such riding as you
don't get in a century of good riders, at any rate, all assembled at
the same time and place."
"Oh, spare me!" cried Gay, so angrily that his face fell, and she
felt a brute as she saw how she had wiped all the brightness out of
it.
"Anyway," he said pluckily, "we shall get plenty of hunting,
Rensslaer says, and a stiff run is almost as good as a steeplechase.
He has a horse that will carry you beautifully."
"I shan't be there," cried Gay, and stamped her foot. "How dare you
take it for granted that I shall go where I have not even been asked?"
"Well," said Chris wrathfully, "didn't I ask you at the Ffolliott's
dance--didn't I ask you again in this very room after my accident?"
"No, you didn't," said Gay. "It was _I_ who said I'd give up
Trotting, if you would racing, and you wouldn't!"
"But it was a perfectly understood thing," said Chris, "that if I
dropped steeplechasing, you would marry me, and I have--and what more
do you want?"
"Nothing," said Gay point-plank. "While you've been
shilly-shallying, I've been making other plans--that's all."
"You have certainly been a little wretch to me," said Chris gravely,
"and really, Gay, you must try to control your temper better, if we
are going to hit it when we're married."
Gay gasped and sat down; so did Chris, though he kissed her first
before she knew it--how fearfully quick he was in everything--but
Carlton could be quick too.... She put her handkerchief away; she
did not want to rub out that last kiss....
"My dear little girl," said Chris, and his young face, very near
hers, was so handsome, and true, and tender, that she looked away
from it, while a dreadful ache came into her heart, "I am doing for
you what I would not for my mother, God bless her, and all we've got
to think about now, is to be happy--" He alone knew at what immense
cost to himself he had gained at last the victory, took it for
granted that Gay would appreciate, and reward it accordingly.
"It's too late," she said miserably. "I am bound twice over to
Carlton--once by a debt of honour--once by my word--"
"You are nothing of the sort," said Chris, who was far from realising
the situation. "Mackrell played up well certainly about the Vase,
but his motives were interested, and he'd be a rotter if he regarded
you as being in his debt. I don't wish the poor chap any harm, but
I'm afraid he'll have to put up with Lossie, unless she changes her
mind."
"He--he is with Lossie just now," said Gay nervously, "but he may be
here at any moment--"
"Not if he accepts her," said Chris, chuckling, "for I imagine
there's something in the wind."
"Wouldn't you like to run down and see the Professor?" she cried
eagerly. "He's always so delighted to see you!"
"I'm quite happy where I am," said Chris, smiling broadly. What a
shy little thing she was, and what ridiculous ideas she got into her
head; it was a relief to find she could be silly after all! "You are
looking very pretty this morning," and he looked her over admiringly.
Gay blushed--somehow she never _did_ look nice without wishing for
Chris to be there, and see how nice she looked.
"I hear St. Swithin's Court is charming," he said--"the place where
we're going to live, you know--and the work Rensslaer's giving me
will suit me down to the ground. Just fancy _living_ in the midst of
that paradise of horses! And he's giving me a thousand a
year--rippin', ain't it?" and he kissed Gay again before she could
stop him.
"Now, can't we be married early next month, go abroad for a bit, and
be home in good time for the shooting? Morning, Mackrell!" as that
gentleman came in, and Gay half rose, her heart beating wildly....
With a sick sense of despair, after one glance at his face, she knew
that Lossie had failed.
"We were just talking about St. Swithin's, the little place that goes
with the berth Rensslaer has given me," said Chris. "If the birds
are all right, we'll be very pleased if you'll make one of the guns
on the First--won't we, Gay?"
There was a queer silence for a moment, then Carlton said quietly:
"I'm afraid there's some mistake. Gay is engaged to me for the
First--and for many other Firsts, I hope."
Chris's glance flashed from one to the other, even in that moment he
lived up to his motto, "Never show when you're hit," but his jaws
gritted together, as, with an upward jerk of his bright head, he said:
"A very serious mistake, as Miss Lawless is engaged to me."
Both men were standing, and at what Gay saw on their faces, she rose
also, and stood between them.
"I am engaged to Carlton Mackrell," she said to Chris. "Will you
please go away now?"
After one long look between her eyes, without a word Chris went, his
proud young face impassive as Rensslaer's Indian; yet Gay felt as if
there had been murder done, when the door closed, and involuntarily
she stretched out her arms towards it.
"Oh, my God!" she whispered. "Come back, for I love you, Chris ... I
_love_ you."
Carlton heard--but this scene was a mere anti-climax to the one he
had just gone through, and as he had held to his purpose in that one,
so was he resolute to hold to it in this, where so much more was at
stake....
Even if she loved Chris Hannen, what then? Gay must be protected
against herself--made happy in spite of herself--a man always thinks
he can make a woman that, in spite of all observation and experience
to the contrary.... All these weeks of his absence, Chris had had
his chance, and lost it. That the boy liked Gay well enough, Carlton
knew, but _not so much as horses_. His behaviour throughout the
Horse Show had proved that--and even if Rensslaer had given him a
berth in his stables, where did Gay come in? The more superb the
horses, the greater Chris's facilities for breaking his neck; anyway,
there would be no comfort or peace of mind for the girl, and it was
pure selfishness on Chris's part to want her to sacrifice herself to
him.
In the few moments that Gay's fate trembled in the balance, she stole
a glance at him, and saw his face pale, ravaged by the ordeal through
which he had just passed, by this even fiercer one with scarce a
breath between.
"You promised me, Gay," he said quietly, and she bowed her head,
slipped to the door, and left him to the full bitterness of his
triumph.
But when she had locked herself into her den, she glanced round the
room as if the drama, lately enacted there, still palpitated, living
in the air.... To a manly man there can be no hour more painful,
than when his rights are invaded, and the impossibility demanded of
him of a love where no love is; but it was of Lossie's passion and
humiliation that Gay was thinking, of the uselessness of it, not
Carlton's pain ... and then Chris's haggard, white, proud young face
as it had looked just now, came--and stayed.