SEKHET WHETS HER TEETH
No one felt able thoroughly to settle themselves steadily to work that
afternoon, for Lord Winborough had not timed his visit, and might be
expected at any moment.
They laughed and chatted for some time, but gradually painting was
beginning to engross somewhat of its usual meed of attention, when the
electric bell rang out.
"That will be Winborough," declared Geoff as he left the room
immediately to admit his visitor.
The studio door swung to, so that only a confused murmur of voices came
from the hall. In a minute it was opened again, and Geoff was heard
saying--
"Oh yes, we're all much the same as usual. You remember Jack Hardy, and
this is Frank Pallister."
Evarne was standing with her back towards the door, and as the two young
men had at once crossed over in that direction, they had passed out of
the range of her vision; for, despite these interruptions, with the
instincts of a thoroughly good model she had not stirred unbidden from
her pose.
She heard Jack make a brief speech in his most polite style, though
obviously with considerable nervousness.
"I want to thank you, Lord Winborough, for so kindly consenting to spare
some of your time to sit for me. I know how busy you are, and am more
than grateful."
The answer came in smooth, even tones.
"Indeed, Mr. Hardy, it is a pleasure to be able to assist in any degree
so talented and--"
At the sound of this voice an icy hand seemed to lay itself upon
Evarne's heart, chilling her blood. With parted lips and eyes staring
with terror she turned round. There, in the centre of the little group,
stood--Morris Kenyon!
Well may the rapidity of thought be employed as a synonym for the
uttermost conception of speed. Simultaneously with the tremendous mental
shock of beholding this man again under such horrible, such undreamed-of
circumstances--above the resultant seeming cessation of all the wheels
of life within her body, the sudden uncontrollable shivering that shook
her from head to foot--she became conscious that her brain was
frantically urging her to instantly do something by which to account for
this physical agitation--something to explain this uncontrollable
display of emotion. It prompted the method. She followed it without a
second's hesitation. Before any of the men had turned their gaze upon
her, she had deliberately let go of the vase she carried. It fell
heavily, and was smashed into a dozen pieces.
Down on her knees she sank, bending her head low, as, with trembling
hands, she gathered together the nearest fragments. Her actions were
quite instinctive; her whole mind was bent on the recovery of her
self-control. And she succeeded. When, after a minute's respite, she did
dare lift her face, it was marked by no traces of greater concern than
could easily be accounted for as the result of this embarrassing
accident.
If Morris Kenyon, seeing her again with equal unexpectedness, had been
guilty of any dramatic start or exclamation, it had passed quite
unnoticed. All attention was turned upon Evarne, and Geoff was already
by her side.
"My dear, what is the matter?"
She would not meet his eyes; her own might be too full of emotion. She
sought to speak, but no words came.
Geoff grew alarmed.
"Are you feeling ill? Can I do anything? Never mind those silly broken
pieces. Tell me!"
She made a tremendous effort. She could--she should--answer him
rationally and calmly.
"I'm frightened, Geoff," she whispered quickly and very softly--"after
what I learnt this morning. You understand? His voice sounded so hard,
and he looks so stern. I was frightened."
He put his hand over hers and pressed it sympathetically, but no more
could be said in confidence. The three other men had approached.
"What's happened, Miss Stornway?" inquired Jack.
Geoff explained.
"She's tired, that's all. She ought to have rested long ago."
Evarne spoke for herself.
"I'm so dreadfully grieved to have broken this beautiful vase. I can't
think how I came to drop it. Oh, I am so sorry."
"It doesn't matter the least bit," Geoff declared emphatically.
Evarne was now seated on the edge of the throne, and for a minute the
four men stood in a semicircle, silently surveying her. She could have
wrung her hands in agony under this scrutiny.
"Please don't bother about me any longer," she cried, and there were
traces of rising excitement in her voice. "I am so sorry to have made
such a stupid disturbance. Please, please leave me alone now. There's
nothing the matter with me."
Geoff took her at her word.
"Come over here and look at the beginning of my new picture,
Winborough," he suggested, after a final keen and anxious glance at
Evarne.
While the scarcely-started canvas was being explained, and attention was
thus entirely distracted from herself, Evarne brought all the force of
her will to bear on gaining complete self-mastery. And for this she had
need to call upon that emergency fund of strength, endurance and
resolution that a woman's fine nervous system almost invariably produces
when great necessity demands. Every moment the horror that assailed her
appeared to grow more crushing, more unendurable, yet she sat there
silent and motionless, with an unruffled brow and an expression of
perfect calm upon her beautiful features.
She could not keep her fascinated gaze from the spectacle of the two
cousins going the round of the room together, Geoff chatting gaily as he
displayed the various little oddments and curiosities that he had
brought from Italy. Finally he produced a portfolio of water-colour
sketches and handed them to his cousin one by one, describing,
explaining, pointing out various parts that were to be especially
noticed. Morris nodded, questioned, admired, held them at arm's-length
to be better judged, all apparently without another thought in his mind
beyond Art and Venice.
As the two men stood thus side by side, Evarne could most distinctly see
traces of the relationship between them--more in the demeanour, the
general build and outline, than in feature--but kinship, clear and
unmistakable. There was exactly the same carriage of the head, much the
same walk, while their hands--slender, long-fingered and especially
well-tended--were practically identical.
Morris had changed very little in the seven years that had been lived
through since the stormy scene that had marked that final parting on
that spring morning in Paris. His dark hair was thinner, perchance, and
turning grey upon the temples; there were a few more of Time's scratches
upon his brow. But although he must be now somewhere about fifty-five,
his figure--thanks probably to his devotion to fencing--was still as
slender, as trim and upright as that of any of the younger men in the
room.
Evarne had opportunity of studying his appearance at leisure, for not
once did he glance in her direction. She knew this must be intentional,
and was so far grateful, though such a mild emotion could find scant
place in her mind just then. It was almost unendurable to see those two
men standing side by side thus. Not only was the instinct of
self-preservation on the alert, but every refined impulse in her nature
was outraged by the spectacle. Unconsciously she caught hold of the
slightly overlapping edge of the floor of the throne, and dragged at it
with such unsparing force that the muscles of her arms stood up terse
and hard.
The sketches all surveyed, the conversation turned on Jack, his work and
the bust that was to be undertaken.
"I've just finished a life-size statue of a child," Jack said.
"It's only in clay at present, but I am going to work it out in
marble--perhaps as a memorial-stone. You think it is good, don't you,
Geoff?" and he turned anxiously towards his friend for confirmation.
"Indeed it is splendid," was the ready answer "You should see it,
Winborough. It is in the plaster-room yonder. It is a dreadful weight to
lift. Will you go in there and look at it?"
Winborough cordially assented, and escorted by Jack and Pallister he
left the studio.
Geoff did not accompany the trio. He was anxious about Evarne, and,
sitting down beside her, he slipped his arm around her waist as he
declared in a tone of raillery--
"Well, sweetheart, you have surprised me! I had no idea you were such a
little coward. I thought you were as brave as anything."
She hastened to account for this sudden weakness by numerous excuses. It
seemed to her that it must necessarily have aroused some suspicion,
although Geoff's manner showed not the slightest trace of any such
feeling.
"I don't like you to think me cowardly," she said, "so please remember
all I have had lately to upset me. First of all, I have not really been
feeling fit to pose lately. I'm weary! The engagement I finished on
Thursday was a terribly trying one. I stood for that wretched artist for
the figure for nearly six weeks without missing a single day except
Sundays. He wanted to get his picture done before he went away for his
holidays, and he succeeded, but it made me quite ill."
Geoff was properly indignant.
"It was enough to kill you; you should not consent to do such things.
You must not play with your health like that. You ought never to have
sat at all for such a selfish brute."
Evarne shrugged her shoulders.
"You see, you don't know what it is to have to earn your own living,"
she declared with a little smile. "I certainly did intend resting for
the remainder of the week, but you were so anxious to start your
picture, dear, that I went right on without even a day's interval."
Now Geoff was indeed repentant.
"Oh, my darling, I didn't understand! I didn't know! It's all my fault.
How horribly thoughtless I am! Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think it would matter. I am very strong, you know, as a rule.
But what I learnt this morning so suddenly worried me seriously; and
then--I told you--I got so frightened when your cousin was really here,
that my silly hands trembled, and I broke that vase that I know you
value. So altogether, if I was a bit pale and not quite myself, it
wasn't without sufficient cause, was it?"
Even as she spoke she found herself wondering why she took this trouble
to blind Geoffrey's eyes. If he did not immediately learn the true
reason of her alarm at the sight of his cousin, he would know
to-morrow--or the day after--or the day after that! It could be only a
question of a more or less brief time. Why not give up the struggle at
once? Her heart ached as she listened to his expressions of
self-reproach, knowing as she did that he had been unfailingly kind and
considerate towards her from the hour of their first meeting.
"Evarne, dearest, do forgive me. You have made me feel terribly
remorseful. One thing after another for you to endure, and all my fault!
If that is the best care I can take of you, I don't deserve to have you,
that's certain. Dear, say you forgive me this time. I will try and be
more thoughtful."
He drew her closer to his side, and right gladly would she have rested
there and endeavoured to forget the world, its deceptions and its
difficulties. But this was most decidedly not the time for such
indulgence, and she was in the very act of withdrawing herself from his
encircling arm, when exactly that which she was seeking to avoid came to
pass. Jack must needs choose this psychological moment to throw open the
door and conduct Winborough back into the studio.
It was an awkward moment for everyone. Geoff rose to his feet, but did
not loosen his arm from around Evarne. It merely slipped upwards from
her waist to her shoulders.
Jack looked absolutely aghast. Pallister gave vent to a silly
inopportune little snigger, while Winborough demanded somewhat
sarcastically--
"Do you spend much of your time studying art by such methods, Geoffrey,
my boy?"
"Let me explain," said the young man without a moment's hesitation. "It
may come as a complete surprise to you, Winborough; but Jack, and even
Pallister, who have been here with us in the studio, must be fully
prepared to hear of my good fortune. I mean that I have asked Miss
Stornway to become my wife, and she has consented."
That even under these difficult circumstances Geoffrey would make this
startling announcement publicly, on the spot, without either warning or
preparation, was as unlooked-for by Evarne as it could have been by any
of the others. But the emergency did not find her wanting. With this new
demand came fresh strength. Instantly rising to her feet, she drew
herself up to her full height, lifted her head proudly, and without the
slightest trace of fear or faltering, advanced a couple of steps
forward. Then, by sheer force of will she compelled Morris Kenyon to
meet her eye, and resolutely concentrated the whole of her mental
strength to its uttermost limits in sending forth a wordless message--a
command--that this man should not speak to betray her.
And silence prevailed in the room!
Evarne remained motionless, her soft robes falling around her in
gracious dignified folds, her beautiful head haughtily upraised. She
made herself, by mere force of character and dauntless determination,
absolute mistress of the situation for the time being.
But the fetters were still around her wrists!
The silence was finally broken by Geoffrey. Turning from the cousin with
whom he had but little in common, he looked across at his chosen friend,
and asked somewhat coldly--
"Well, Jack, have you nothing to say?"
Thus adjured, that young man pulled himself together.
"My dear Geoff, I--I really--I do congratulate you--both of you. I'm
sure you'll be happy."
"You've completely floored me," cried Pallister gaily, recovering his
breath. "I'm so surprised, you can come and knock me down with a feather
if you want to. I'm sure I congratulate you heartily. Three cheers for
Mr. and Mrs. Danvers! Hurrah! Can I be best man?"
But Evarne scarcely heard anything of this. She and Morris still stood
separated by the length of half the room, gazing sternly into one
another's eyes, each reading and sending forth defiance, antagonism,
mutual hatred.
Yet when Winborough at length spoke it was in tones that were quite
light and casual.
"If marriage wasn't such a confounded knot to untie, there would not be
the same need for careful consideration beforehand that undoubtedly
there is now--more's the pity! When you do marry, Geoff, I wish you
every happiness--that you know."
Evarne returned to the throne and sat down again. Having averted the
danger of Morris speaking out on impulse at first hearing Geoff's
announcement, she felt herself safe for the minute. He would indeed be
strangely altered if he now suddenly burst forth into accusations,
making a scene in the presence of Jack and Pallister, and running the
risk of ensuring public talk and scandal. Besides, she still retained
sufficient faith in his honour to believe that he would not deliberately
give away her secret to men whom it did not concern.
But before long her apprehensions were again up in arms.
"You are inhospitable here," announced his lordship. "Do artistic
aspirations do away with parched throats, even on sultry July
afternoons? If so, that's rather an important point for temperance
advocates. For my part, fancying I remember where you keep your whisky
and syphons, Geoff, I'm going to see if I can look after myself, eh?"
With the utmost nonchalance he strolled out of the studio. As Winborough
had anticipated, Geoffrey promptly followed him.
As soon as they were alone in the sitting-room, Winborough rounded on
the young man sharply.
"Look here, what folly is this? Is it possible you are really thinking
of marrying that girl?"
"I told you so plainly enough, didn't I?"
"Preposterous! Do you suppose you can be allowed to take up seriously
with any stray creature who happens to please your fancy? The idea is
absurd--utterly absurd!"
Geoff's eyes flashed, but he kept his temper. He had fully anticipated
that Winborough would at first oppose this marriage. But of course all
objections were founded on mere prejudice and ignorance, so he answered
quietly in the hope of explaining and thus conciliating his cousin. He
tried to express the admiration, the respect and the affection he felt
for Evarne, in a manner totally devoid of any exaggeration or seeming
blindness, but with unmistakable clearness and certainty.
"You are prejudiced against Evarne because of her profession,
Winborough; but when you have known her for a little while you will be
forced to acknowledge that, despite it, she is in every respect as near
perfection as any human being can possibly be. In culture and
refinement, in mind and manner, she is the equal of my own mother. She
is absolutely honourable and straightforward and high-principled, and I
love her. Now, I ask you, what more can one want? If she is a bit below
me socially, that is the one and only drawback--such as it is--that
anyone can possibly adduce; and after all, it is her personality and my
feelings that are the matters of real consequence. Isn't that so?"
"Not entirely. Her character and her past record are of the utmost
importance. Now, what do you know of her? Not much, I'll be bound. No,
my boy, when you do finally decide to marry, you must choose some nice
girl in your own station of life. One who has been properly brought up,
and about whom there can be no question, which is more than can be said
for Miss Stornway."
"You presume most abominably upon our relationship," Geoff was
commencing angrily, but both his sentence and the remainder of the
conversation were doomed to remain unfinished. Hurried footsteps were
heard in the hall, and Jack charged into the room, crying--
"I say, get some brandy or something quickly! Miss Stornway has
fainted."
With a feeling akin to despair had Evarne watched the two men leave the
studio. It had been so obviously a mere contrivance on Morris's part to
speak to his cousin alone. Now the blow was to fall, and what possible
means had she of preventing it? A sudden consciousness of her own
weakness, her utter impotence, swept across her, bringing something not
unlike resignation in its train. She would change her costume and go
away--everything was over! She stood up, but with the more commanding
attitude the fighting spirit rallied again. She would not yield yet. She
would strive till the very last.
The imperative need of the immediate moment was to end that
_tête-à-tête_ now proceeding. Morris and Geoff had been alone scarcely a
couple of minutes. No harm was perhaps done yet, but every second might
be of consequence. How was it to be stopped--how--how? She cast about in
her mind for an inspiration. Ah! was there any wisdom in belonging to
that sex that men designate "the weaker," and yet never taking advantage
of it in emergencies such as this? Without a second thought she gave a
low cry, raised her hand to her head, let herself drop heavily upon the
floor, and there lay just as she had fallen--motionless, helpless, with
closed eyes and scarce fluttering breath.
The anticipated result ensued. Half a minute later Geoff was on his
knees hanging over her in an agony of dismay, while Winborough might
have been absolutely non-existent for all the attention he was able to
command.
Every device known to man for the conquering of a fainting attack did
Evarne allow to be vainly essayed before finally lifting her languid
eyelids. A look of relief passed over three anxious countenances.
Winborough stood leaning against the door, surveying the scene. His
features bore an expression that might have puzzled the uninitiated, but
Evarne understood. Meeting her eye, he smiled at her. Their mutual
glance was scarcely more than instantaneous, but it was all-sufficient.
She knew right well that not for a moment had he been deceived by her
pretended swoon. Geoff's gaze, fixed intently on the face so dear to
him, saw a shadow of distress pass over it as a fleeting cloud. He
looked rapidly at Winborough over his shoulder, but no explanation was
forthcoming from that quarter, and he turned all his attention again to
his "Sweet Lady."
She was supported to the open window, ensconced in an arm-chair;
cushions were arranged behind her head; a footstool was brought for her
feet. More than once, as Winborough watched all this care and attention,
the same mocking smile hovered around his lips.
"Don't leave me," murmured the invalid, laying her hand upon Geoff's
arm.
But even as she spoke she stole a glance at the man standing by the
door. He it was with whom an undisturbed interview was essential. Each
must learn the other's mind--it was imperative.
"I have an idea that if I could say a few words to your cousin while I'm
so ill, it might soften his heart towards me," she whispered, after a
brief period of perplexed thought. "Do arrange for me to have a minute
or two alone with him, to see if I cannot persuade him to think more
kindly of me."
"I will call him over if you like."
"But I can't talk about you while you're listening. That would be
embarrassing for me, wouldn't it?"
But Geoff was reluctant.
"Oh, he is in a nasty temper. He would very likely say something to
wound your feelings, and you have borne more than enough lately. Don't
bother about him."
"I can't endure to make trouble between you. Do let me try. He doesn't
look very stern now," she declared.
Winborough was engaged in conversation with Jack and Pallister, and was
obviously making himself as pleasant as he so well knew how to do when
he chose. Nevertheless, Geoff frowned slightly and shook his head.
But with a very little more perseverance, Evarne, as usual, got her own
way. A few minutes later she found her enemy standing by the side of her
chair in an otherwise empty room, and heard herself directly addressed
by that voice which, above all others, she had hoped and believed would
never fall upon her ears again.
"Will you accept my compliments upon your really admirable presence of
mind."
She sat erect with amazing alertness.
"Morris! So you are his cousin?" she cried, for the first time allowing
the full horror she felt to appear in both tone and expression.
"Most unfortunate, isn't it?" he agreed. "If it had been any other man
whatsoever I wouldn't have spoiled your little game. As it is, of
course--well, I'm sure you will understand."
"Do you really suppose I'm going to give him up quietly, simply to
please you?" she demanded--then added hastily, "But we can't talk about
it here."
Morris raised his eyebrows.
"Is there anything to discuss? Oh, I understand. Pardon my dullness.
We'll make that all right. I'm not ungenerous. Where are you living?
Where can I come and see you?"
So he was actually taking her words to imply that she wanted money. She
opened her lips, ready with an indignant denial, but stopped short. Let
him labour under this delusion for the time being. It was a decided
advantage.
She gave him her address.
"I am posing here all day," she explained. "You can come in the evening
at half-past seven."
"I am engaged to-night. Expect me to-morrow. I'll drop in after I've
dined. Somewhere between eight and nine. I say, Evarne."
"What is it?"
"You won't throw the furniture at me, will you?"
She found no answer for this taunt. Leaning back in the chair, she
turned her head wearily away, while a couple of big tears gathered in
her eyes. He was very brutal--very heartless. What was she to do, or say
to him?
In another minute the door had swung to behind him, and Geoff was
bending over her.
She looked up mournfully, while the big tears overflowed and trickled
unrestrainedly down her cheeks.
"It was quite useless," she murmured brokenly. "He is absolutely
determined to prevent our marriage. Oh, Geoff, my dearest, I am so
unhappy. What am I to do? I love you so much."