A LOSING STRIFE
Evarne radiated with delight and relief when this Nile cruise came to an
end. She could not avoid the mortifying conviction that she had proved
herself very childish and incompetent in having allowed a state of
affairs so painful--let alone dangerous to herself and her future--to
have come to pass, and to continue. Lucinda, ignorant as a kitten on
Egyptology and all kindred subjects, had been wont to wax enthusiastic
over what she appeared to consider Evarne's quite superhuman fund of
knowledge and marvellous intelligence, as contrasted with her own
much-lamented but unconquerable silliness. Yet the girl guessed shrewdly
that had the situations been reversed, the frivolous, empty-headed
Lucinda, so given to harping on the topic of her own incompetence, would
have proved an infinitely more resourceful and successful tactician.
Delightful indeed was it to see the last of the Belmonts--both so
objectionable in their respective ways--and when she found herself once
again alone with Morris at "Mon Bijou," she was gay and light-hearted as
any child in her renewed happiness. Florelli's studio saw her not. She
devoted her whole time to Morris, as bright, appreciative and amusing a
little comrade as man could wish.
But, alack and alas! this sojourn in the oasis of contentment was
destined to be but brief. One morning, not long after their return, as
they sat at breakfast on the verandah, Bianca entered with the post. No
letters ever came for Evarne save bills, which she always passed
straight over to Morris; but this time her name appeared on the face of
a delicate pink envelope. On the back were the initials "L. B.,"
intertwined into a large and involved gold monogram.
The whole thing was highly perfumed, and its recipient sniffed with
exaggerated disdain even before she had opened the envelope and mastered
its contents. When she had done that she looked up in genuine
indignation as she murmured, "The impertinence of the woman!"
Morris, who had been watching her, now reached over for the letter, and
likewise perused the "impertinence." It apparently did not strike him in
the same light, for, as he laid it down, a meditative grunt of approval
accompanied the action.
"I think we will accept," he said.
"Oh no, no--impossible!" was Evarne's instantaneous and startled
response.
The letter that had created such emphatic difference of opinion ran as
follows:--
"DEAREST EVARNE (for so I always think of you),--Absence makes
the heart grow fonder, so they say, and I find it true that it
wasn't until the radiant time on 'The Radiant Isis' was over
that I realised how very attached I'd become to you, dear. I do
hope we shall mature our friendship begun under such delightful
auspices, so I am writing to ask you if you will become my guest
in Paris for some weeks. Do come, dear; I am so looking forward
to seeing you again.
"I'm well aware when I ask this that Mr. Kenyon is the fair
Evarne's devoted shadow, and I mustn't dare to enjoy the sweet
charm of the rose without its accompanying thorn (of course that
is quite between ourselves, dear); but Tony is writing to him,
for he has promised (dear fellow!) to take Mr. Kenyon off on
long masculine jaunts (and we won't inquire too deeply where
they go, will we, dear?) while you and I are enjoying the Paris
shops and other feminine frivolities in one another's society to
our heart's content.
"I am looking forward to a most enjoyable time, darling Evarne.
"Your affectionate friend,
"LUCINDA BELMONT.
"P.S.--We shall be both getting our new season's 'rigs-out,'
shan't we? I know of such a heavenly place for hats."
"Oh, indeed, I don't want to go! I should hate it. I can't bear either
Mr. or Mrs. Belmont," cried Evarne, after a silence long enough to show
only too plainly that Morris was not going to readily yield to her
desires in the matter.
On the contrary, he proceeded to argue. At her age she ought not to seek
to bury herself in the solitude of studios or a villa remote from the
centres of civilisation. She owed it to herself to be seen and admired.
She must go more amongst people, and the companionship of a
good-natured, clever woman of the world--such as was Mrs. Belmont--would
be of vast benefit to her in every way.
The girl retorted that she had no objection to the centres of
civilisation as such, nor to meeting as many of Morris's friends as he
wished, but that she would not visit Mrs. Belmont, with whom she had not
a taste or a thought in common; who was, in fact, a person entirely and
absolutely hateful in her eyes.
Her voice quite quivered with apprehensive distress, but when Morris
proceeded to speak on Lucinda's behalf, lauding her tact and worldly
knowledge, Evarne rose in indignant wrath.
If those were the qualities that were characteristic of Mrs. Belmont,
then, for her part, she hoped never to become tainted by their
possession. "But," she declared, "without being either as tactful, or as
wise, or as experienced as that middle-aged designing creature, I'm not
quite the abject fool she seems to take me for. She need not think that
her sickening show of affection towards me has ever deceived me one jot.
I put up with it and her in Egypt because I couldn't help myself, but
I'm not going to her house, and you can write and tell her so, for I
shan't even answer her hateful, hypocritical letter; so there!"
Having delivered herself of this ultimatum, she flung her serviette on
the table and swept away, heedlessly dragging over her chair with the
train of her morning gown. Morris gazed in amazement at her empty place.
It was the first serious clash of wills that had ever risen between the
girl and her lover. The dispute was ardent and protracted, but very soon
it became evident that both her coaxing and her resolutions were equally
vain when opposed to his wishes. While ostentatiously leaving her
perfect freedom of choice for herself, he was going to Paris!
So, with the utmost reluctance and a considerable sense of humiliation,
Evarne submitted as gracefully as might be. She could not bring herself
to so far cherish her dignity as to remain haughtily alone at "Mon
Bijou," knowing Morris to be once more within the range of the wiles and
allurements of a clever and unscrupulous _demi-mondaine_. Although she
believed that, up to the present, she still retained her sway upon his
affections, his own teachings led her not to place too confiding a
reliance upon the Joseph-like qualities of the most devoted of lovers.
Never before had she bade adieu to her beautiful brilliant room with
such a heavy heart. She stood in the doorway, gazing longingly around,
imprinting every corner, every contrast of colour, freshly upon her
memory. How happy she had been at "Mon Bijou"! How dear it all was to
her!
Both common-sense and diplomacy prompted her to greet Lucinda with
smiling, albeit somewhat stiff, cordiality, and she effectively
concealed her scorn when her hostess, gushingly embracing her, put her
face close up to hers and made a hasty little smacking sound into the
air, first on one side, then on the other--Lucinda's only conception of
how to kiss another woman.
Morris had given Evarne a cheque-book, and opened a generous account for
her at his bank, and for the first few days the programme promised in
the invitation was carried out to the letter. He and Tony did, in fact,
derive whatever satisfaction and benefit was to be gained from one
another's society, while their female belongings amused themselves
together by shopping and such-like diversions. The girl could not but
acknowledge that Lucinda's vivacity and bright flow of talk were far
from unamusing, yet to recognise the efficiency of the weapons of one
whom she felt to be her remorseless foe did not at all ease her mind or
soften her reciprocal feelings of enmity.
Very soon the foreseen change came to pass.
"It's absolutely stupid to have nice men on hand if one is to see
nothing of them. One might just as well be a miserable Egyptian woman
right away," announced Lucinda, and none could contradict her words.
"It's too mean of me to bore dear Evarne by keeping her all to my dull
self," was her next statement. And so the divided expeditions of the
party ceased, and then it was not long ere the old miserable state of
affairs that had ruined the cruise of "The Radiant Isis" was again in
full swing.
But even this was not enough. Next came the suggestion that
_tête-à-tête_ expeditions were, after all, better. Lucinda was sure
that, as Evarne was so clever, and an artist too, she, of course, must
want to go round the galleries and see the statues and such-like things.
Lucinda herself was so very silly she couldn't appreciate old masters
one bit. Then she got such dreadful headaches in the close atmosphere.
It must be lovely to be strong just like a man, as dear Evarne was, but
for her part she got utterly exhausted in half an hour. Really, she must
reluctantly relinquish these delightful expeditions to dear Tony. Tony
had quite gone off his head lately; he had actually taken to trying to
improve his mind. She couldn't imagine why! As if dear Tony wasn't quite
clever enough as it was for a silly, frivolous little woman like
herself, who only cared for chiffons. Perhaps it was the beneficial
result of Evarne's society on board "The Radiant Isis." She only wished
she was half as clever as dear Evarne; cultivated women acquired such a
good influence over men--so much more powerful and lasting than silly,
frivolous creatures like herself could ever hope to gain.
Evarne hated her! Hated her for her gibes, her scarce-concealed mockery,
and, above all, she loathed her for the sarcastic flattery and
never-failing show of affection under which thin veil she sought to
cover her intention of stealing the girl's rich lover, if she could
encompass that act. It was a method that made retort difficult; and,
moreover, Evarne was under the disadvantage of still retaining her
over-sensitive self-respect. It was revolting to her to openly admit
that she was engaged in a vulgar struggle with another woman--and a
woman so far beneath herself--for the possession of a man.
Now she said simply and frankly that her interest in museums had always
depended entirely upon Morris's society, and that without him such
things did not appeal to her much. But, far from pleased by this
statement, he frowned darkly, spoke of neglected opportunities, and
discourtesy to her host. Finally he acknowledged that--relying upon her
being otherwise pleasantly occupied--he had arranged to take Mrs.
Belmont for some expeditions in a certain swift motor-car that only
accommodated two. Thus, short of creating a scene, the girl found
herself faced by the alternatives of remaining alone in the flat,
obviously sulking, or endeavouring to cover her defeat by accepting
Tony's eager escort and pretending to enjoy visiting the antiquities and
art treasures in the Louvre.
She had already implored Morris to leave Paris, but he had turned a deaf
ear to her appeal. Now, although she managed to smile at Tony and to
declare, gaily enough, her willingness to further encourage him in
improving his mind together with her own, she was torn by agony of
spirit at this new proof of her beloved's rapidly maturing infatuation
for her rival.
Nevertheless, it all had the advantage of preventing the final blow from
falling as a bolt from the blue. Nor was the hour far off.