"A SPECIAL FAVOUR"
"I admire Madeline's conduct very much. I think it was splendid how she
stood up to all the reproaches, and even ridicule; she told me that she
had once, and only once, in her life been untrue to herself (she meant
in accepting Charlie), and since then she has spoken the absolute truth
to everybody about it all. She has been very plucky, and very
straightforward, and only good can come of it. Honesty and pluck,
especially for a girl--it's made so difficult for girls--they're the
finest things in the world, _I_ think."
Bertha was speaking to Nigel.
He had remained away for what seemed to him an extraordinarily long
time. He was afraid that she was slipping out of his life, without even
noticing it. Stopping away until she missed him was a complete failure,
since she _didn't_ miss him. And the day was approaching for the party
Mary had consented to give. He knew that Bertha had accepted but was
afraid she didn't mean to come. That would be too sickening! To have all
that worry with Mary, all that silly trouble and fuss for a foolish
entertainment that he detested, all for nothing at all! And Mary was
secretly enjoying the fact that she felt absolutely certain Percy would
never let her come to Nigel's house. She did not suppose Percy had
guessed the writer of the letters; but he must have thought his wife was
talked about, and some effect certainly they had had; for in the last
few weeks, she happened to know for a fact, Nigel had neither called on
or met Mrs. Kellynch. This afternoon she knew nothing of, for her
suspicions were beginning to fade, and she was not, at present, having
him followed. Nigel had taken his chance and dropped in to tea and found
luck was on his side--Bertha had just come in from a drive with
Madeline.
"It's all very well," he answered, "to say you admire her conduct, her
bravery, and all that! Whom had she to fight against? Only her mother,
whom she isn't a bit afraid of, and Charlie, who, poor chap, is more
afraid of her. The engagement wasn't even public before she broke it
off."
"Yes; but, Nigel, it was very frank of her to tell everything so openly
to Charlie. And now, poor girl, she's very unhappy, but very
courageous--she's absolutely resolved never to marry. She says she's
lost her Rupert by her own faults, and it serves her right."
"And suppose Rupert goes teaching English to an Italian girl at Venice,
or gives her history lessons, or anything? Now he's once thought of
marrying, he may marry his third pupil. Wouldn't Charlie have a chance
then?"
"Never, unfortunately," Bertha replied.
"Do you think she'd wait on the chance that Rupert might have a
divorce?"
"Nigel, how horrid you are to sneer like that. You never appreciated
Madeline!"
"I think I did, my dear, considering I was especially keen on her
marrying my brother, even when I knew she liked somebody else."
"Oh, that was only for him."
"Or, perhaps, do you think a little for me? I might have felt if my
brother married your greatest friend that we were sort of relations," he
said, with a laugh.
Bertha glanced at the clock.
"You can't send me away just this minute," he said. "You like honesty
and frankness, and I've honestly come to ask you--are you coming to my
party?"
Bertha paused a moment.
"Why?" she said. "Do you very particularly want me to?"
"Very. And I'll tell you the reason. It's to please Mary."
"Why should Mary care?"
"Bertha, I give you my word that she'll be terribly disappointed and
offended if you don't. And"--he waited a moment--"I hardly know how to
explain--it'll do me harm if you don't come--you and Percy. I can't
exactly explain. Do me this good turn, Bertha. A special favour, won't
you?"
He was artfully trying to suggest what he supposed to be the exact
contrary to the fact. He knew Mary would be wild with joy if Bertha did
not come, though he had no idea how extremely astonished and furious she
would be if she should arrive, considering she had accepted. Of course
in reality Mary thought nothing of the acceptance. She was both certain
and determined that her "door would not be darkened" by Bertha's
presence.
Bertha had not intended to go since she saw Percy's pleasure and relief
at the cessation of the intimacy. But now? After all, Percy couldn't
mind going in with her for a few minutes if she begged him.
"If you tell me it'll do you a good turn, Nigel--but I don't
understand!"
"Do you wish me to explain?"
"No, I don't. I'll take your word. But all the more I don't want you to
be always calling. I'm afraid Mary doesn't like me."
"It isn't that exactly."
Bertha thought of her own happiness with Percy. Her warm, kind heart
made her say gently:
"Nigel, I hope you're nice and considerate to Mary? You make her happy?"
"Doesn't this look like it?" he answered. "She'll be in a state if you
don't turn up." He sighed. "I've never said a word about it, but she's
rather trying and tiresome if you want to know."
"Then I'm very, very sorry for her," said Bertha, "and you can't do
enough for her. ... Why, with those lovely children I'm sure she'd be
ideally happy if----"
"Oh, you think, of course, it's my fault. It never occurs to you whether
I'm happy!"
A look from her which she tried to repress reminded him of his
deliberate choice. He thought the time had come to make her a little
sorry for him, knowing her extreme tenderness of heart. He spoke in a
lower voice, and looked away.
"If I'm sometimes a bit miserable, it serves me right."
"Be good to her," said Bertha.
"I'll do anything on earth you'll tell me."
"What are the children's names?"
"Nigel and Marjorie."
"Darling pets, I suppose?"
"Isn't it extraordinary, Bertha," he said. "I've no right to say it to
you, but that's my great trouble."
"What?"
"She doesn't care much about them."
"I don't believe it," said Bertha, shaking her head. "It's you who are
mistaken."
"Am I?"
"Nigel, remember, I know you pretty well."
"And you think I'm trying to make you sorry for me?"
"I won't say that. But you ought to be happy, and so ought your wife."
He spoke in a different tone, with his usual cheery smile.
"Well, if you will grace our entertainment, I promise we will be happy.
Do come, Bertha!" He was taking all this trouble simply so as not to
have a boring evening at his own home!
"Very well, Nigel," she answered, with a kind, frank smile. "I'll come.
Lately Percy's had so much work that in the evenings he hasn't been very
keen on going out to parties."
"And you don't go without him?" he asked with curiosity.
"No. Aren't I unfashionable?"
"You're delightful."
"Good-bye," she said, holding out her hand.
He took it, and held it, saying:
"And now I sha'n't see you again until a few minutes at the party, and
heaven knows when after that."
"I'll bring Madeline. Shall I?"
"Oh yes, do. It'll be _some_ party, as the Americans say, and Charlie
won't be there."
"Good-bye again."
"What are you going to wear?" he asked, in his old, brotherly voice,
lingering by the door.
"Salmon-coloured chiffon with a mayonnaise sash," she answered, fairly
pushing him out of the room. "Do go."