THE TWELFTH HOUR
Sir James was extremely annoyed with the weather. In his young days, as
he remarked with bitterness, spring was spring, and it didn't thunder
and snow in April. He was prattling pompously of the sunshine in the
past, when a sudden heavy shower of hail, falling rather defiantly in
spite of his hints, made him lose his temper. Sir James, looking angrily
up at the sky, declared that unless it stopped within half an hour he
would write to the _Times_ about it.
Whether or not this threat had any real meteorological influence, there
is no doubt that the clouds dispersed rather hastily, the sun hurriedly
appeared, and the weather promptly prepared to enable Sir James to
venture out, which he did with a gracious wave of the hand to the entire
horizon, as though willing to say no more about it.
Sylvia had been as anxious for the thermometer to go up as her father
himself, for it was several days now since she had seen Woodville alone.
And he had been nervously counting the minutes until the moment of
freedom, having, to-day, a stronger reason than ever before to desire a
quiet talk.
Woodville had expressed some remorse--not much, though considerably more
than he felt--for what Sylvia called his conduct during their last
interview, and she meant this morning to forgive him.
"I've only come," said Sylvia, sitting opposite him at the
writing-table, "because I saw you were _really_ sorry for ... the other
day. _Are_ you sorry?"
"Awfully."
"_That's_ not very flattering," said Sylvia.
"I wanted you, too, dreadfully this morning," he said eagerly. "I've got
something wonderful to tell you--to show you."
"Anything dreadful?" she asked, turning pale.
He took out a letter.
"Listen! Since the other day I had made up my mind to go away from here.
I began to see I couldn't bear it. At least, for a time."
"What!" cried Sylvia, rising to her feet.
"Yes. But you needn't worry. I've changed my mind, darling. And before I
tell you any more----"
He leant across the writing-table and kissed her softly, and at some
length.
"Now," he said, "read this letter."
"From the Greek fiend! Is he trying to take you away from me again?"
"No, he's not. Read it aloud."
Sylvia read:--
"'RITZ HOTEL, PARIS.
"'My dear Woodville,--In the short time since I had the pleasure of
seeing you, certain changes have come over my views on many
subjects; my future is likely to be entirely different from what I
had supposed, and I felt impelled to let you know, before any one
else, of the unexpected happiness that is about to dawn for me.'
"Oh, Frank, how long-winded and flowery!"
"Never mind that. It's his style always when he's sentimental. Do go on
reading."
Sylvia went on. "'I was greatly disappointed at first to know you were
unwilling to go to Athens. Perhaps, however, it is better as it is.
Briefly, I have found in la _ville lumiere_ what I had longed for and
despaired of--a reciprocal affection--that of a young and innocent
girl--'"
"Sylvia, don't waste time. Go on!"
"'My heart'"--Sylvia continued to read--"'is filled with joy; but I will
not take up all my letter to you with ecstatic rhapsodies; nor will I
indulge myself by referring to her beauty, her charm, her Madonna-like
face and sylph-like form. Her extraordinary affection for me (I speak
with all humility)--tempered as it naturally was by the modesty of her
age (she is barely seventeen)--was, I think, what first drew me towards
her. We are to be married in May. You know that the sorrow of my life
was that I had never been loved for myself. I have been called a
successful man, but in my own heart I know that this is the only real
success I have ever had during fifty-five years. It is certainly a great
pleasure to think, as I do, that I shall be able to give my Gabrielle
all (humanly speaking) that she can desire....'"
"Will you stop laughing? You _must_ get through the preliminaries,
Sylvia!"
"It seems all preliminaries," murmured Sylvia.
"'But, in my happiness, your troubles are not forgotten: and I hope now
to be able to remove them in all essentials.
"'First, let me ask you to remember me to Miss Sylvia, and to tell her
that with the deepest respect I now formally relinquish all hopes of her
hand.'
"Very kind of him! He seems to claim some merit for not wanting to marry
us both," Sylvia cried.
"'No doubt you remember my telling you of a post, similar to that
which I proposed for you in the bank at Athens, and that might be
vacant soon, in London. Since, to please my bride, (who is devoted
to her mother), I intend to make my home in Paris, I have made
arrangements for you to take that post now, if you will.
"'Shortly after this epistle a formal note will reach you,
explaining all details. You will, I am sure, not refuse me the
great pleasure of smoothing a little your path, under the present
circumstances--since it is a very dear wish of mine to see you and
Miss Sylvia happy.
"'I foresee no obstacles now to your wishes. Explain to Sir James
that I intend to be your best friend, and shall be able, no doubt,
to be of great assistance to you if you adopt this career.
"'At some future date I hope to present to you Mademoiselle de
Beaugarde--and looking forward to your reply, I remain,
"'My dear Woodville,
"'Yours, with a thousand good wishes,
"'G. RIDOKANAKI.
"'P.S.--I should have written at greater length, but I am expecting
Madame Beaugarde and her daughter, as I am to escort them to see
some pictures. You will, therefore, grant me your indulgence for
the bold, almost abrupt way in which I have conveyed to you my
news. You will make excuses for the happy lover! She has an oval
face, with a peach-like complexion. Her eyes resemble sapphires:
her teeth are like pearls. Let me hear from you soon.'"
"Now, isn't he a wonderful chap?" asked Woodville. "And the best fellow
in the world. I always liked him. How gifted he is! He describes people
in detail, and by the yard, without giving one the very slightest idea
of their appearance. He has a real genius for platitudes."
"And what an original description! Peach cheeks and sapphire eyes! Fruit
and jewellery! But I daresay she's a dear, and I forgive him now. And
Frank, _do_ you realise what this means--to us?"
"I've been realising it since the first post this morning, Sylvia."
"You'll accept it?"
"Naturally. Everything is right, as you said it would be. We'll tell Sir
James to-day."
"Look here, darling Frank, let me ring up a messenger to send a wire at
_once_ to accept, so that nothing can come between us!"
"Not just yet," said Woodville.
* * * * *
Savile's only comment when they told him was, "Just like that rotter to
prefer another alien!" and he immediately wrote brief notes to Chetwode
and Jasmyn Vere.
Sir James heard the news with real surprise and conventional
indignation, principally because it was his practice to receive news in
that way.
He refused his consent, sent Sylvia to her room, and turning round on
Savile declared that the whole thing was caused by the disgraceful
idleness of that boy, who ought to be at school. Such long holidays were
not heard of in his younger days, and did the greatest harm mentally and
physically to the boys and all their relatives.
The arrival of Aunt William diverted the storm. Sir James became far
more angry with her for defending the young people than with them for
requiring defence.
When she had left, he said that perhaps he would take it into
consideration in a couple of years, if Woodville left the house at once,
and they neither met nor corresponded in the interval.
At dinner he began to chaff them a little, and said Sylvia always got
her own way with him.
After dinner, when he was smoking in the library, the desire to say
"Take her, you dog, and be happy," or words to that effect, was too
strong for him. He sent for Woodville, consented enthusiastically, and
from that moment began to believe that with farseeing thoughtfulness he
had planned her marriage from the very beginning. And he began to look
forward to the list of political and other celebrities that would appear
in the papers the day after the wedding.
Of course it was to be a long engagement and a quiet wedding; but
entirely through the eager impetuosity of Sir James, they were married
in six weeks, and every one said that in general splendour and
gorgeousness it surpassed even the wedding of Sir James's elder
daughter. Savile's attitude as best man was of such extraordinary
correctness that it was the feature of the ceremony, and even distracted
public attention from the bride and bridegroom.
THE END
* * * * *
Transcriber's note
The following changes have been made to the text:
Page 9: "expert in hand-writing" changed to "expert in handwriting".
Page 12: "I bar him rather" changed to "I bear him rather".
Page 58: "goodlooking young man" changed to "good-looking young man".
Page 96: "Wont you make" changed to "Won't you make".
Page 111: "St.James's" changed to "St. James's".
Page 155: "blue-green Empire teagown" changed to "blue-green Empire
tea-gown".
Page 159: ""Bertie Wilton?" axclaimed" changed to ""Bertie Wilton?"
exclaimed".
Page 173: "Saville their only confidant" changed to "Savile their only
confidant".
Page 218: "in tears and a teagown" changed to "in tears and a tea-gown".
Page 228: "you going to do today" changed to "you going to do to-day".
Page 243: "sooth-sayer is a marvel" changed to "soothsayer is a marvel".