George Harcourt was called suddenly to Rome that morning and so even
hearing him talk further about the Bulteels was denied me for the time.
I passed some days of the cruelest unrest. There was no sign of Alathea.
I allowed Maurice to drag me out into the world and spent my evenings
among my kind.
A number of my old pals have been killed lately, such an irony when the
war seems to be drawing to a close! There is still an atmosphere of
tension and unrestfulness in the air, though.
After an awful week George Harcourt came back and dropped in to see me.
I opened fire at once, and asked him to tell me all that he knew of the
Bulteels, especially his old brother officer Bobby.
"I have a particular reason for asking, George," I said.
"Very curious your speaking of them, Nicholas, because there has just
been the devil of a fuss in the French Foreign Legion about that
infernal blackguard; it came to my knowledge in my work."
"Has he been cheating at cards again?"
George nodded.
"Tell me from the beginning."
So he started--many of the bits I already knew. Lady Hilda had been a
great friend of his and he dwelt upon the life of suffering she had
had.
"There were a few years of frantic love and some sort of happiness, I
expect, and then funds began to give out, and Bobbie's insane desire to
gamble led him into the shadiest society, at Baden-Baden and Nice, and
other warm spots. Poor Hilda used to go about with him then in a shamed,
defiant way, running from any old friend, or staring over his head. I
happened upon them once or twice in my wanderings; then I lost sight of
them for some years, and the next thing was someone told me the poor
woman had broken down and was a nervous wreck, and two children had been
born in quick succession, when the first one was about eleven years old,
and the whole family were in miserable straits. I think relations paid
up that time--with the understanding that never again were they to be
applied to. And since then I have heard nothing until the other day it
came to my ears that the eldest girl--she must be over twenty now, was
supporting the entire family. One of the children died lately, and now
Bobby has put the cap on it. I am sorry for them, but Bobby is
impossible."
Oh! My poor little girl, what a life! How I longed to take her out of
it!
He went on.
"Strange how certain instincts show themselves under every condition.
Bobby was no physical coward, and to talk to and mix with casually, the
most perfect gentleman you ever met. Awfully well read and a topper at
classics and history, and sang like a bird. He had the grand manner,
and could attract any woman, though to give the devil his due--I believe
for some years he was faithful to Lady Hilda."
"I should think so!" I said indignantly. "After accepting her great
sacrifice!"
"Nothing lasts, my dear boy, that is not fundamental. Bobby was a rotter
through and through, and so he couldn't even behave decently to the
woman who had given up everything for him, once her charm went.
But--that something in human beings which is unaccountable, when they
are well bred, made him join the French Foreign Legion immediately war
broke out, and behave with great gallantry."
"What brought on the last episode?"
"He was probably bored in the dull post where he was, with not much
fighting to do lately, and resorted to his old game to cover up losses,
which he could not pay, and had the bad luck to be caught for the second
time. I told you he was a fool and did not know how to calculate the
price of his follies."
"When did you hear of this?"
"Only last night on my return, and there will be a disgusting scandal,
and the old story will be raked up and it is pretty beastly for
Englishmen."
"Can money keep it quiet, George?"
"I expect so, but who would be fool enough to pay for such a fellow?"
"I would, and will, if you can manage it without letting my name
appear."
"My dear boy, how does it interest you? Why should you do such a
quixotic thing? It is twenty-five thousand francs."
"Only twenty-five thousand francs! I'll give you the cheque this minute
George, if you can, in your own way, free the poor devil."
"But Nicholas--you must be mad my dear boy!--Or you have some strong
motive I do not know of."
"Yes, I have--I want this chap freed from disaster, not for his sake,
but for the sake of the family. What must that poor lady have gone
through, and that poor girl!"
George looked at me with his whimsical cynical eye.
"It's awfully decent of you, Nicholas," was all he said though, and I
reached for my cheque-book, and wrote a cheque for thirty thousand
francs with my stylo.
"You may need the extra five thousand, George--to make sure of the
thing, and I count on you to patch it up as soon as you can."
He left after that, promising to see into the affair at once, and
telephone me the result--and when he had gone I tried to think over what
it all means?
Alathea did not know of this when I asked her to marry me last week. She
must never know that I am paying, even if that makes matters easy enough
for her to refuse me. The reason of her long silence is because this
fresh trouble has fallen upon them, I am sure. I feel so awfully, not
being able to comfort her. The whole burden upon those young
shoulders.--
Just as I wrote that yesterday, Burton came in to say that Miss Sharp
was in the little salon, and wished to see me, and I sent him to pray
her to come in. I rose from my chair to bow to her when she entered, she
never shakes hands. I was awfully pained to see the change in her. Her
poor little white face was thin and woebegone and even her lips pale,
and her air was not so proud as usual.
"Won't you sit down," I said with whatever of homage I could put into my
voice.
She was so humbled and miserable, that I knew she would even have taken
off her glasses if I had asked her to, but of course I would not do
that.
She seemed to find it hard to begin. I felt troubled for her and
started.
"I am awfully glad that you have come back."
She locked her hands together, in the shabby, black suede gloves.
"I have come to tell you that if you will give me twenty-five thousand
francs this afternoon, I will accept your offer, and will marry you."
I held out my hand in my infinite joy, but I tried to control all other
exhibition of emotion.
"That is awfully good of you--I can't say how I thank you," I said in a
voice which sounded quite stern. "Of course I will give you anything in
the world you want." And again I reached for my cheque-book and wrote a
cheque for fifty thousand and handed it to her.
She looked at it, and went crimson.
"I do not want all that, twenty-five thousand is enough. That is the
price of the bargain."