THE ONLY SOLUTION
"Oh, Lord Saltash! So you're home at last! What a pity you didn't come
back a little sooner!"
"Am I late for anything, Lady Brian?" smiled Lord Saltash, holding her
hand in his.
She shook her head at him. "You are hopelessly late. And you mustn't
call me that. I have renounced my title."
"Really? How generous of you!" Saltash began to laugh in his easy,
mocking way. "Lady Brian has left town for the South Coast, and Mrs.
Sheppard is now in residence at Fairharbour. I am sorry that I was not
at hand to escort her ladyship; but I am none the less pleased to be
received by Mrs. Sheppard. Have I missed anything besides the
first-mentioned privilege?"
Mrs. Sheppard threw out her hands with a dainty gesture of despair. "My
dear Charlie, you've missed--everything! Have you seen my poor Maud?"
He nodded. "More than once. I make a point of seeing her whenever I
feel so disposed. Now that she is in such safe hands, there is no
longer any necessity to hold me at arms' length, I assure you we are on
the best of terms."
Mrs. Sheppard groaned. "Why, oh, why didn't you come back sooner? It
would have altered--everything."
He looked at her, the teasing smile still hovering about his swarthy
face. "It would have been too obvious a solution," he said lightly.
"Don't you know that the unattainable is always the dearest?"
Mrs. Sheppard clasped her hands with a tragic gesture. "You don't
realize--or perhaps you don't care--that she has sold herself to a man
for whom she has not the smallest shadow of affection."
"In pursuit of her illustrious mother's example?" suggested Saltash,
with careless effrontery. "But why did you allow it? Wasn't it up to
you to forbid the banns?"
"I?" Mrs. Sheppard cast up her eyes. "Do you suppose I have ever had
any control over her?"
"I presume you had the slapping of her in her babyhood," he observed.
She laughed almost hysterically. "As if I ever did or could! She was
always so serious and quiet and determined. No one she didn't love
could ever move her an inch. And the dear child never loved me, you
know. Somehow we didn't touch. No, I couldn't prevent the marriage.
Only one person in the world could have done that. Oh, Charlie, what a
pity! What a pity!"
The easy tears had risen to her eyes. She was very appealing in woe.
But Saltash was apparently unmoved. He sat facing her with his odd eyes
glancing hither and thither, the brows above them jerking continually.
"She certainly married in the deuce of a hurry," he remarked, after a
moment. "What made her do it, eh? I presume it was the old man? Did he
turn amorous, or what?"
Mrs. Sheppard laughed rather pathetically and dried her eyes. "Oh,
dear, no! Giles was rather too severe. He was always willing to be
friendly, but Maud's attitude was so hostile that at last--it was hardly
to be wondered at--he turned against her. I was very sorry, but, you
know, Maud always takes things so seriously, poor child, and she
wouldn't hear of making friends when it was over, but must needs go
straight away to Jake Bolton and offer to marry him. He was ready to
take her at any price of course. So they settled it all between them
with never a word to me."
"But you haven't altogether enlightened me even now," said Saltash,
recalling her with his semi-ironical courtesy. "What was this dire
offence that Maud couldn't bring herself to forgive? I should like to
know for my own future guidance."
Mrs. Sheppard's laugh had a deprecating note. "Oh, it was only a little
thing, quite a little thing. If she hadn't been really spoilt all her
life, I don't think she would have thought so much of it. I blame
myself of course. But there, what is the use? Giles is a plain man,
and he believes in a little wholesome chastisement now and then. It does
a woman good, he says. And I daresay he is not altogether wrong. But
in this case----"
"Oh, forgive me for interrupting you!" Rather lazily he cut her short.
"That term 'a little wholesome chastisement'--does it mean a beating or
what?"
Mrs. Sheppard nodded with some agitation. "Yes, he gave her a whipping
one night. It was very unfortunate, but I must say, not wholly
undeserved. And I am afraid he had rather a heavy hand. Poor Maud was
very much upset."
"Really!" said Saltash.
"Yes. He shouldn't have done it of course, but----"
"He probably was not in a state to know what he was doing," suggested
Saltash.
There was a slight frown between his mobile brows, but his voice was
suave.
Mrs. Sheppard eyed him wistfully. "Poor Giles!" she murmured.
Saltash uttered a sudden sharp laugh and rose. "Well, I mustn't take up
any more of your valuable time. No doubt you are busy. You have heard
about Bunny's prospects, I presume?"
"Oh yes, they have told me about Bunny. I am sure I hope it will be a
success, but of course I have had no say in the matter," said Mrs.
Sheppard plaintively. "I don't so much as know when the operation is to
be performed."
"That isn't finally settled," said Saltash. "It's to be according to
the American doctor man's convenience. I suggested that they might like
to make use of Burchester for the occasion, and Bolton has caught on to
the idea. Very sensible of him!" Saltash's mouth twisted into a faint
smile. "How do you get on with your son-in-law?" he enquired
pleasantly.
Mrs. Sheppard shook her head dubiously. "I never liked him. There is
something of the wild about him. Maud doesn't like him either. I am
sure of that. They are complete strangers, and always will be. In
fact, if it weren't for Bunny--" she lowered her voice--"I believe she
would very soon desert him."
"What? Really?" said Saltash, in a peculiar tone.
She met his interrogation with a swift upward glance. "She would never
stand life alone with him. It would drive her desperate. I am
sure--quite sure--if it comes to that, she will somehow break free."
"Really!" he said again, subtle encouragement in his voice.
Mrs. Sheppard suddenly clasped her hands against her bosom and went
close to him. "Oh, Charlie, I do think--sometimes--divorce is the only
way. You know she has always loved you. And it isn't your fault you
came too late. Charlie, if the chance were to come to you again--the
chance to make her your wife--you wouldn't--surely you couldn't--let it
slip again?"
"Again!" said Saltash. His lip lifted a little. He was looking at her
fixedly.
She made a small nervous gesture of pleading. "You would marry her,
Charlie, if you could. She loves you. You would never--never----"
"Let her down?" suggested Saltash.
His expression was utterly cynical, yet something in those queer eyes of
his emboldened her. She placed her two hands against his shoulders, and
suffered the tears to run down her face.
"Charlie, I am wretched about her--quite wretched. Save her from that
rough cow-herd, Charlie! Make her your own--in spite of all!"
She broke down into muffled sobbing, and would have leaned upon him for
support had he permitted it. But with gentle decision he eluded her,
taking her hands and leading her to a chair.
"Now, Lady Brian, there is no need for this agitation, believe me. For
the present there is nothing to be done. Bunny occupies the centre of
the stage. He won't, of course, remain there for ever, but he has got
to have his turn. Till that is over, we can only possess our souls in
patience."
"But afterwards!" wailed Mrs. Sheppard. "It is the afterwards that
troubles me."
"Afterwards," he said lightly, "I presume it will be someone else's
turn."
"And Maud will be miserable," she protested.
Saltash was silent. Only after a moment he strolled to the window and
stood looking at the grey, tumbling waves that dashed against the
sea-wall.
Mrs. Sheppard dabbed her eyes and began to recover herself; it was
plainly the only course. She remembered regretfully that sympathy had
never been dear Charlie's strong point.
When he glanced over his shoulder a few seconds later she mustered a
somewhat piteous smile. "Life is very difficult sometimes," she said
apologetically.
"Oh, quite damnable," he answered, in his careless, mocking way. "But
we've got to get through with it somehow, and with as few tumbles as
possible. I really think I must be going now. We shall let you know
when anything definite is settled about Bunny. Don't fret, you know!
Take it easy!"
He came back to her with the words and took her hand with a certain
arrogant kindness characteristic of him.
She looked up at him with quivering lips. "It is so good of you to let
them have Burchester," she said.
He made her a brief bow. "I serve my own ends," he said.
Mrs. Sheppard rose. "And I don't know what will happen when Bunny is
cured," she said pathetically. "He will have to go to school. And who
is going to pay for it, I wonder?"
Saltash shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps he'll train for a jockey. Who
knows?"
Mrs. Sheppard sighed. "I can't think how you can treat everything as a
joke. I can't myself."
He laughed. "I don't chance to be gifted with a serious mind, you see.
Besides, _cui bono_? Does worrying help?"
"I'm sure it ought to," sighed Mrs. Sheppard.
He laughed again derisively. "Sheer waste of time, believe me. Either
fight or submit to the inevitable! Personally, I prefer to fight." He
shut his teeth with a sudden click, and for a single instant his face
was grim. But the next he was laughing again. "Good-bye, Lady Brian!
In the name of beauty, don't fret! It can't be done with impunity,
remember!" He pressed her hand and released it. "You've given me quite
a lot to think about. It's been an interesting conversation. I have
quite enjoyed it. Good-bye!"
He was gone. She heard him departing, light-footed as a happy boy,
whistling under his breath an old, old waltz refrain.
Gradually a smile came into her own face as she turned to the glass to
repair the ravages of her recent emotion.
"I wonder whether he will do anything," she murmured to her reflection.
"He isn't a man to sit still. And really, the circumstances are so
exceptional. It is the only solution--literally the only one." She
paused a moment, drew out a hairpin, twisted back a curl and very nicely
readjusted it. "And when Giles is bankrupt," she added, with a little
nod to the thoughtful gaze that met hers, "there will be a home for me
to go to." She heaved a pensive sigh. "I am glad he knows everything,"
she said. "There is nothing like telling the whole truth."
She smiled again with more assurance, and went her way.