The next morning, bright and early, we called on the house-agent to sign
and seal the agreement which should make us the happy owners of Pastimes
for a term of years agreeably elastic.
Mr Edwards was a small, dapper little man, typically house-agenty in
manner, even to the point of assuring us gravely that another tenant was
urgently in the field, and that we had secured our lease by the very
skin of our teeth.
Charmion lifted incredulous eyebrows.
"But, Mr Edwards, you wrote to me a second time, only a fortnight ago,
to say the house was still on your hands!"
"Quite so, madam. And it was. But only on Monday Mr Maplestone
motored over from Wembly. Mr Maplestone is Squire there--a very
influential gentleman in these parts. He is looking out a house for a
relative, and had only just heard that Pastimes was vacant. He drove
over, as I say, and telegraphed to his friend that the house was too
good to lose. He expected a reply this evening."
"When it will be too late!" Charmion said calmly. "You told him, of
course, that you were in treaty with another tenant?"
"I did, madam. Quite so. But"--the little man hesitated, and fidgeted
uncomfortably--"Mr Maplestone is--er--accustomed to get his own way! I
explained that I must accept a definite offer, and that you had the
first option, but I am afraid that he hardly realises--"
Charmion waved an imperial hand.
"We are not concerned with Mr Maplestone, or what he expects. Pastimes
is ours, and that settles the question. To-morrow morning Miss Wastneys
and I will meet you at eleven o'clock, to go over the house together.
It is in good order, but we shall require a little decoration and
painting here and there. You will be able to advise us how to get it
done well and quickly. When I say quickly I _mean_ quickly! Plenty of
men must be put on to begin the work and finish it in a few days' time,
not one or two who will drag on for weeks. You can get us an estimate
for time, as well as for cost."
Mr Edwards bowed, murmured, and waved his hands. He looked overcome,
poor man, as well he might, for if one would-be client demanded his own
way, the other was obviously determined to have hers. Between the two
his path was not easy! I smiled at him ingratiatingly, just to help
things along, but he took little notice of me. Obviously, in Charmion's
company I did _not_ "take the eye!"
On the way home I expressed sympathy for the disappointed Mr
Maplestone, but Charmion refused to agree.
"I don't know the man, so his pleasures and disappointments don't enter
into my sphere. Promiscuous universal sympathy is too great a tax on
the nervous system. Why should I distress myself about a man I have
never seen?"
"Not distress yourself exactly, but you might cast a kindly thought. He
will be disappointed, and the poor little agent will have a bad
half-hour."
"Now you are asking sympathy for the agent, too! Evelyn, aren't you the
least little bit in the world inclined to wear your heart on your
sleeve?"
"Charmion, aren't you the least little bit inclined to be hard?"
She agreed with unflinching candour.
"I am. It's the safer plan if one doesn't want to be hurt!"
"But--what about the other people? Mayn't they be hurt instead?"
She looked at me gravely for a moment, then with a smile which grew
gradually broad and roguish.
"We ought to strike a happy mean between us, eh, Evelyn? You are all
credulity and gush, and I refuse to disturb myself about other people,
or their affairs."
"That's not true! You disturbed yourself about me!"
"Because it affected myself. I had grown fond of you, and so you
entered into my life. Pure selfishness, my dear!"
"I don't believe it! I won't believe it! It's no good trying to
disillusion me, Charmion. I've put you on a topmost pinnacle, and it
would take a mighty effort to tumble you down!"
"Dear thing!" murmured Charmion fondly. "Well--suppose we talk of the
drawing-room walls? I'm a great believer in occupying oneself with the
next step. Revelations of character will follow in due course--I plump
for white!"
"White certainly. A warm cream white, with not a touch of blue in it.
And the prevailing colour?"
"Let's count three quickly, and then each say what we think!"
We counted, and the two words leapt crisply forth.
"Rose!" said I.
"Purple!" said Charmion. Then we looked at one another beneath puckered
brows.
"Rose lights up better!"
"Purple is more uncommon."
"Rose is more cheerful in winter!"
"Purple is restful in summer!"
It seemed for a moment as if we had reached an _impasse_, then came an
illuminating thought.
"Why not--both? They harmonise well. Purple curtains and carpet--the
plain colour, very soft and subdued, and cushions and shades of the
right rose. With our united treasures we ought to have a lovely room.
Where _are_ your things, Charmion?"
"Stored," she said shortly. "I tried a house for a few months, but it
was too lonely an experience. But I have a passion for beautiful
furniture. It has amused me to pick up good specimens here and there.
Now we shall enjoy them together! Wait till you see my Spanish leather
screen!"
"Wait till you see my Chinese cabinet!" I retorted, and we talked
"things" industriously for the next hour.
After luncheon Charmion settled herself to write business letters,
drawing a big screen round her writing-table, the better, as she
informed me, to protect herself against my chatter.
"You promise to be quiet, but in five minutes' time you begin again!
Now please to remember that to all intents and purposes I am in another
room, and that until I choose to come forth, I am dead to you and
everyone else! Do you understand? These letters positively must get
off to-night!"
"Dear me! I don't want to talk! I shall be thankful to sit by the fire
and enjoy a quiet read," I said loftily, and promptly drew up an old
arm-chair, and buried myself in the book which I had bought to while
away the hours of my journey, and then left unread, because my own
affairs were at the moment so much more absorbing than those of a
fictitious heroine. Now that my mind was more at ease, I found the
story interesting enough, and had read on for about an hour with
undisturbed enjoyment, when suddenly the door was flung open, and a
voice announced:--
"Mr Maplestone!"
I leapt up, putting up a hasty hand to smooth my ruffled hair. That was
the worst of having only one sitting-room! Visitors were hurled in upon
one without a moment's warning. Happy Charmion behind the screen! I
stared across the room and beheld a tall--very tall--thin man, with
short reddish hair and light blue, angry-looking eyes. He was dressed
in riding costume, which, so far as his figure went, became him
exceedingly well. He was probably somewhere about thirty-five, and one
glance at his tightly-set lips and firm square chin was enough to
demonstrate the truth of Mr Edwards' assertion that he was "a gentleman
who likes his own way". He had probably heard by now that for once he
was to be thwarted, and had come to tell me what he thought about it.
At this moment I forgot to be sorry for his disappointment in my
exceeding sympathy for myself! I glanced helplessly at the screen.
"Mrs Fane, I believe."
"I am Miss Wastneys. Mrs Fane is engaged. Perhaps it is something
that I--"
He laid his hat and stick on the table.
"May I have a few minutes' conversation? You will allow me to sit
down?"
"Certainly."
I pushed aside the easy-chair and seated myself on one of the six
"uprights" which were ranged about the room. It felt so much more
business-like and supporting. Mr Maplestone seated himself opposite to
me, and rested his hands on his knees.
"I am told that you have some idea of renting a house called Pastimes,
near here!"
"We have taken Pastimes. Mrs Fane and myself have this morning signed
the lease."
He waved an impatient hand.
"This morning! So I am told. Edwards has behaved very badly. I warned
him that things should not be hurried through."
"They have not been hurried. It is several months since Mrs Fane first
saw the house, and three weeks since negotiations were opened a second
time."
"I only heard this week that the house was vacant."
"And should Mr Edwards"--(the innocent inquiry of my voice was growing
more and more marked)--"was it his duty to have told you?"
His eyes sent out a flash. I could see the muscles of his hand clench
against his knee. I had scored a point, and his anger was
correspondingly increased.
"Perhaps I had better explain," he began in a tone of elaborate
forbearance. "I live at Wembly. Most of the land between here and
there belongs to me. Pastimes happens to be outside the limit, and so
it escaped my memory. I have not been over it before. I did not know
the last tenants. For the last few weeks I have been looking for a
house for my friend--a member of the family who is returning from
abroad. Invalided!"
He pronounced the last word with emphasis, staring fixedly at me the
while. I adapted my features to express polite commiseration.
"It is natural that he should wish to live within driving distance of
his friends."
"Oh, quite!"
"The moment that I saw Pastimes I knew for a sure thing that it would be
just his house--"
"I am sorry, but as he has not seen it, he can't be disappointed. There
must be other houses--"
"I have already said I have been searching round for--the--last--three--
weeks," Mr Maplestone repeated, in the carefully deliberate tone which
disguises irritation. "Nothing else will suit anything like so well."
I murmured indefinitely, and glanced at the screen. Mentally I could
see Charmion leaning back in her chair, smiling her slow fine smile,
inquisitively waiting to see just how firm or how weak I could be. I
was not inclined to be weak. There was something in the personality of
this big domineering man which roused an imp of contradiction. We sat
silent, eyeing one another across the room.
"I believe you and--er--Mrs Fane are strangers to this neighbourhood?"
"Yes! That is so."
"You have no--er--special link or attraction?"