GILLIE INTERFERES
He was not much surprised to find Muir proudly examining the invitation
cards on the mantelpiece. Muir started and turned round as he came in.
"Back again? Capital!"
"Well, of all the snobs!" said Vaughan.
"Hang it, Gillie, it's only for you. I'm pleased you're getting on,
that's all."
"No words can tell you how I despise your point of view. Just tell me
something I want to know. Wasn't there a sort of little scene at this
dance last night?"
"I didn't see anything," he answered.
"You never do."
"Oh, I remember now, I heard something. It appears that Romer left his
wife and Daphne at the dance and then came back in an hour to fetch
them, and she wasn't there."
"Who wasn't where?"
"Val and Harry had gone for a little fresh air in a taxi for about a
quarter of an hour, that's all. They came back and explained it."
"They would. Don't apologise."
"But just the few minutes that Romer was looking for them made--well,
rather a fuss. It was perfectly all right afterwards. They all had
supper together. So there wasn't much talk about it, except, as I say,
while Romer was waiting for them. I never in my life saw any one look so
ghastly as that chap did."
Vaughan sat down and looked thoughtful.
"Only you, Muir, would leave out the only thing of the slightest
importance that you had to tell me, which I hear the second I leave the
house from that round-faced tattooed idiot, Rathbone, at the corner of
the street."
"But I tell you it's all right, old chap."
"All right? Don't you see that this sort of thing constantly happening
will gradually undermine ...? I like Valentia. It's a great shame."
"Harry certainly isn't worth smashing up a happy home for," Muir
answered, "if that's what you're afraid of. But ... when he marries Miss
Walmer it'll be all right. Val will forget about him, and settle down
with Romer again. I'm deeper than you think, Gillie ... ah, I don't say
much, but I can see as far through a brick wall as most people!"
"Just about as far, I should think," said Vaughan contemptuously.
"What do you propose to do about it?"
"It's likely I'd tell you." Gillie sat down to his desk and rang a bell.
"I suppose I've got to go now, eh?"
"Almost time, I should think."
"Ha, ha, ha! Capital! Well, so long! Be good."
Muir went away as heartily as he had arrived.
The bell was answered by the entrance of the housekeeper, Mrs. Mills.
She was a muddle-headed, elderly woman in black silk, whom Vaughan kept
because her extraordinary tactlessness amused him. She invariably
managed to do and say the wrong thing at the right time. To-day it was a
hot morning in July. She came in holding in her hand a little card
covered with frost and robins.
"Mr. Vaughan, sir, I appened to be going through my things, and I come
across this, sir. I thought pre-aps you'd like it. It is pretty."
She insisted on his taking it.
"Charming, Mrs. Mills, but I don't quite see----"
"Oh, look at the words, sir! They're what I call so appropriate! Do read
them."
He read the beautiful words--
_Wishing you a blithe and gladsome Yule._
"What on earth----?"
"Well, sir, I only thought they was pretty, and pre-aps you'd like to
keep it, sir, or send it to one of your young ladies; but I'll take it
away if you don't like it." She put it back in her pocket.
"Frankly, I don't. What a genius you have for the wrong thing! Are you
going to give me plum pudding and turkey on Midsummer Day?"
"I shouldn't dream of such a thing, sir."
Gillie had scribbled a letter.
"Go and ring up a messenger boy, will you?"
"May I send Johnson, sir? I don't old with telephones. They buzz at you
or makes you jump. And the young person keeps on saying ave you got
them? before you've ad time to breathe, in a manner of speaking."
She took the note. Vaughan sat down on a sofa to wait for the answer,
glanced at the clock, and said, "Confound Muir! He's made me waste
another morning."
When the answer came, Gillie went out and strolled towards Mount Street.
He found Valentia at home, evidently flattered and fluttered at seeing
him.
"How sweet of you to come!" she said.
"You'll stay to lunch, of course?"
"I'm afraid I can't."
"Oh! lunching with a leading lady, I suppose?"
"No."
"With whom?"
"With Romeike and Curtice."
"Not really? What fun! What are they like?"
"Oh, Romeike is all right. I don't care so much about Curtice."
She gave him a cigarette.
"I never in my life," said Vaughan, "before to-day, attempted to
interfere in anybody else's affairs."
She stared at him.
"But in this case it--may I really smoke?--does seem such a pity! Of
course you know what I mean, don't you?"
"Do I?"
"You see, I feel so certain that if you were, let's say--married to
_Harry_ and met Romer after, you'd be so wildly in love with Romer."
"So I was," she said in a low voice. "Tremendously! I thought he was a
strong silent man with a great deal in him.... Oh! I've told you."
"Yes, but so he is. It's commonplace of you, really, Val, not to see
it."
"I'm awfully sorry.... I do love Romer, and I think I appreciate him.
But somehow it's a little dull. It's not exciting as I thought it would
be."
"Well! if you _must_ have fun, and amusement, and make a hero of
somebody, why just Harry? Why not a superior man? Me, for instance?"
He was laughing.
"I've been told that an adoration for you would be hopeless, utterly
hopeless." She smiled. "And we're friends. I can't imagine----"
"Nor I. Of course I know it's utterly absurd to come and give people
advice on these subjects, and one can't dispute about tastes and all
that. But my practical mind revolts to see any one so delightful as you
throwing away the substance for the shadow. You see, I'm a mass of
platitudes."
"Shadows are very attractive sometimes."
"But they go away too. And then where are you?"
She was silent.
"They do, really. I know what I'm talking about." He stood up. "Think
over what I've said."
"You're kind, but you're rather depressing, Gillie," said Val. She
looked a little frightened, but very pretty.
"When do you go back to the country?"
"Oh, to-day. We're there now. We only came up for the dance. We're
motoring down to the Green Gate.... All of us."
"Oh yes.... I'm afraid you must think me very impertinent."
"Indeed I don't."
"And when I've gone you will give orders that you're never at home to me
again. But, somehow, I couldn't help it. If it makes you hate me to
remember what I've said, forget it."
She laughed as he rose to go.
"That's all right, Gillie; but what I want to know is, where you're
really going."
"I'll tell you, exactly. I'm going home to lunch, because I've an urgent
appointment immediately afterwards."
"More plays, I suppose? What sort this time?"
"A light comedy, with a very slight love interest," he answered, "all
dialogue, no action.... At least, so far."
"Oh, then it isn't finished yet?"
"Not quite. Good-bye. And if you ever want a change, remember--a
_superior_ man!"
They both laughed insincerely.
He left her looking thoughtfully out of the window.