CRITICAL MOMENTS FOR NANCY
Captain Mayne's remark with regard to no further interview, proved
correct; he and Nancy merely encountered one another as very slight
acquaintances, who have friends in common. She noticed him riding
in the Park with Josie,--they never joined her, but merely cantered
by with a cheery salute. At a polo match at Ranelagh, where Mayne
had played and distinguished himself, she looked on, whilst friends
gathered round to congratulate him, and she saw Josie go up and pat the
damp neck of his considerably blown pony. That same day, at the polo
match, his mother, Lady Torquilstone, was pointed out to her by Mrs. De
Wolfe; a tall, supremely well dressed, well preserved, arrogant woman,
who looked as if the whole of Ranelagh was her private property, and
most of the crowd, insufferable intruders.
"So that was her mother-in-law!" said Nancy to herself. Her
mother-in-law's husband, was a dapper, prancing sort of little man,
with fierce eyebrows, and a hard stare.
As Mrs. De Wolfe and her companion were motoring back to town, they
passed Captain Mayne, who waved to them from the coach.
"It's most extraordinary," said the old lady, "that since he has come
home, I've seen so little of Derek. Long ago when with his uncle, he
was in and out of my place like a dog in a fair! Now he has merely left
a formal card, and although I have twice asked him to dinner, he has
been engaged. _My_ conscience is clear, I have not offended him in any
way, and I can't bear to be dropped by my young friends, to say nothing
of old ones. By the way, Nancy," glancing at her companion, "perhaps
you are the guilty party. Did he by any chance make love to you?"
"Oh, no; no indeed," replied Nancy, with reassuring emphasis.
"Well of course in those days, you must have been a little girl in
short skirts, with your hair down your back, and I'm quite sure that
Derek Mayne would never look at a flapper."
Although Nancy and Captain Mayne maintained a cautious distance,
they were brought in spite of themselves into close contact at the
Hicks--Dawson, wedding. The ceremony was a grand affair; everything was
done in a lavish, if somewhat showy way. Nancy was not a bridesmaid,
for Mrs. Hicks had intervened, and helped her out, with a series of the
most extraordinary excuses,--these being accepted by Jessie, with a
somewhat indifferent grace.
The church, which was rather small, was handsomely decorated, and
crammed to the doors. With respect to the guests, Mrs. Hicks had
figuratively "gone forth to the highways and hedges, and compelled them
to come in." Old planter friends; recent fellow-passengers, and even
the inmates of her "family hotel." Mrs. De Wolfe and Nancy were among
early arrivals at the church, and the latter drew many admiring eyes;
her gown and hat were white; she looked bridal herself! white suited
her wonderful complexion, and reddish-brown hair. Almost at the last
moment, and when the bridesmaids were actually assembled in the porch,
Captain Mayne,--very smart in frock-coat, and lavender gloves,--came
strolling up the aisle, glancing from side to side, in search of an
empty space! Mrs. De Wolfe's quick eye caught his. She made a little
signal, he crushed into her pew, and took a seat between Nancy, and the
door.
The organ pealed, the choir leading the procession, advanced slowly up
the aisle. Jessie, carrying herself with dignified self-possession,
looked unusually well,--indeed quite at her best. Not so, the waiting
bridegroom; for if his new coat was creaseless, his countenance was
painfully distorted. He appeared to be pitiably nervous, and was
struggling with a (happily groundless) fear, that he had lost the
ring! Jessie was staunchly supported by her mother, rustling in a
brilliant blue costume,--destined to open the eyes of the Meaches, and
other neighbours. Meanwhile Nancy, whose attention had been riveted
on Jessie, became suddenly alive to the appalling consciousness, that
the last time she listened to these prayers, and adjurations, they had
been addressed to herself,--and the man who stood beside her! She felt
overwhelmed by the shock of this poignant memory; how mean and cruel of
fate to drag them together in such a heartless fashion; each sentence
now felt like a separate stab.
At Fairplains, the service had fallen on more or less deaf ears; here,
she was acutely alive to every syllable. Did her companion remember?
She stole a swift glance at Mayne; he was looking straight before him,
and his profile was absolutely impassive. Such were the close quarters
in the pew, that their elbows were almost touching: could he feel how
she was trembling? When it came to the words, "_forsaking all other,
keeping only to him, as long as ye both shall live_," Nancy, in spite
of a determined effort at self-control, felt herself shaking from head
to foot. The position was to the last degree embarrassing, and painful;
compelled to listen to the celebration of Holy Matrimony, side by side
with the man to whom she had been married,--and from whom she had run
away! was an ordeal almost too terrible to be endured. Her face seemed
to be on fire, her lips were twitching convulsively, as she kept her
head down, and supported herself by the front of the pew.
Oh! what a relief, when they knelt, and she could more or less hide
herself; but she was so unstrung and agitated that she let fall her
prayer-book and her bag! Mayne picked them both up, and as he gravely
restored them, he glanced at her heightened colour, and averted eyes.
It seemed positively cruel to scrutinize her,--his bride of two and a
half years! for in spite of his apparent composure he had not failed to
realize the extraordinary situation, and Nancy's miserable confusion.
Strange to say, Mrs. De Wolfe was totally unaware of the little drama
beside her; her attention had been closely engaged in viewing with
much amusement the extraordinary collection of people that Mrs. Hicks'
cards of invitation had assembled.--The end of the service found Nancy
calmer; bodily release was at hand; but her mind had been grasped by
a penetrating thought. She had made a vow more than two years ago;
a vow to this man beside her, a vow she had deliberately broken.
Would God punish her? It was the first time she had been invaded by
this idea.--She glanced instinctively at her companion. Apparently
he had not given the situation a moment's thought; and was carefully
extracting from its haven of refuge, a beautiful, glossy new hat. And
now the bride and bridegroom came pacing down the aisle, and Teddy, who
had completely recovered his poise, halted as he passed, and said "You
two," glancing from Mayne to Nancy, "must come out, and sign."
There was nothing else for it! Mayne at once stepped forth, Nancy
followed him, and they fell into line behind the bridesmaids, and not a
few who saw them, thought, "What a strikingly good-looking couple!"
They entirely eclipsed the real pair. Such a crowd in the vestry, such
kissing and chattering!--Mrs. Hicks' voice, high above every other,
Jessie radiant, with veil thrown back, kissed Nancy,--and Mayne kissed
_her_!
When it was his turn to sign the register, he wrote, "Derek D. Mayne,
Captain," then passed the pen to Nancy. For a moment she hesitated;
she felt his eyes fixed upon her, and with a sudden and inexplicable
impulse, and a very shaky hand, she scrawled, "Nancy Mayne": it was
almost illegible; an inkstained spider could have done as well, if not
better. She happened to be the last to sign, and no one looked over the
register, except Mrs. Hicks,--who saw to everything;--little escaped
that sharp-eyed matron, who instantly recognizing this unexpected
signature, glanced quickly from the page to Mayne, and gave him a bold,
and unmistakable wink.
The reception, which took place at a neighbouring hotel, was very
crowded, very noisy, and very lively,--precisely what was to be
expected from anything in which Mrs. Hicks had a hand! The presents
on show, were well worthy of exhibition,--the refreshments were
first-rate, the band not too blatant, and the champagne unexceptional.
It was agreed by their many friends, that the Hicks' had spared no
expense, and given the marriage "Tasmasha" in great style.
The crowd, crush, heat, and striving to be gay, natural, and like
herself, left Nancy to return to her temporary home, figuratively in
the condition of some half-dead, battered flower!
The memory of the ceremony, held her in a vice-like grip; as for
signing the register,--_what_ had possessed her? Was it a compelling
look in Mayne's eyes, or was it a spasmodic effort of conscience? In
the crush, at the reception, although she did not actually come across
Mayne, she had seen him more than once. He had assisted to tie a shoe
at the back of the motor which was to bear the happy couple away, and
was active and prominent among the mob that threw rice. There had been
neither slipper, nor rice, at _their_ wedding!
Soon after this eventful occasion, one morning in the Row, Mrs. Speyde
rode up to Nancy, and said to her escort, "Do you go away, Tony,--I
want to have a talk with Nancy."
"No fear!" was the brotherly reply.
"But you really _must_," she persisted. "I particularly want to tell
Nancy a secret,--though Mrs. De Wolfe says she can't keep one,--and
that her face always gives her away."
"One of your good stories, I suppose; well, _I_ may as well hear it
too!"
"No, no," protested Nancy, with a nervous laugh, "I never listen to
Josie's stories,--one, was more than enough!"
Mrs. Speyde knew from long experience, that her brother could be
stubborn when it suited him, so she said, "Well, don't ask me to oblige
you, dear Tony, next time you are in a hole, or otherwise." Then
turning to Nancy, "I'll come in early this evening and talk, whilst you
are dressing," and with a nod, she wheeled her horse about, and rode
away.
At half-past seven, as Nancy, seated before her glass, was taking down
her masses of hair, there was a sharp knock at the door, which the maid
opened, and Mrs. Speyde sailed in. A shimmering cloak covered her smart
French gown, and a diamond bandeau sparkled in her black hair. As she
advanced, she discarded the mantle, and displayed a smart, and very
_décolleté_ red gown.
"I've got 'em all on to-night!" she announced. Then, as the maid
disappeared, she sat down, crossed her knees, and took out a cigarette.
"A cigarette makes me talk," she added. "This is a Doucet frock, Nancy,
what do you think of it? My maid says the body has no back!"
"Nor much front either," said Nancy, as she inspected her friend;
"indeed I call it an _a_ffront," and she laughed.
"How dare you?"
"Oh, I'm so thin, it's all right! Now on you,--it might be----" and she
hesitated.
"Impossible!" declared Nancy.
"Dear, beautiful young creature, what a lovely neck! However, I
didn't dress an hour earlier, and rush over here, to discuss necks,
and bodies; I've come to break it to you gently, that I'm thinking of
settling down at last."
"You mean getting married?"
"Yes. Giving up little suppers in Soho, racing, and gambling,--and
turning over a new leaf."
"And who is to be the happiest of men?"
"I should think you might easily guess."
"Not so easily,--you have such crowds of men friends. Is it Colonel
Deloraine?"
"Is it my grandfather!" she scoffed. "No! a thousand times no! Well,
I won't keep you on tenterhooks,--it's Derek Mayne! You know him." A
slight pause, and a quick glance. "I say! Nancy, why do you look so
funny, and surprised?--I'm not poaching on _your_ preserves, I know!"
"I'm not looking funny or surprised," she managed to protest, and Josie
was too much wrapped up in her subject, too anxious to talk, to notice
that she was more or less confused.
"He is such a dear fellow, straight as a die! one of the living best;
not very emotional, you know,--keeps his feelings to himself, hates
spooning, and all that sort of thing! Remember long ago, when I kissed
him under the mistletoe,--he didn't like it a little bit!"
"Did he not?" said Nancy, who was carefully collecting hairpins. "I'm
rather surprised at that."
"I'm dining and doing a theatre with him to-night.--I expect he has
got another man and girl,--he is so frightfully proper. Well, my dear,
the whole thing will suit me down to the ground; I shall love to go
to India, just to see the Land of Regrets, and later on, we'll settle
ourselves comfortably in our own county."
"Yes, er ... er ... will you?"
"Why of course,--at Maynesfort--our ancestral home. What fun I shall
have turning out the garrets! I believe they are full of lovely old
things, hustled away by the late Mrs. Mayne, who was a Victorian lady,
and loved crewel-work antimacassars, chromo-lithographs; bead mats, and
wax flowers!"
"Is anything settled?" inquired Nancy, with her eyes fixed upon her
hairpins.
"Not yet, the fact is there is a little bit of a hitch,--and I believe
you are just the one person who can help me,--and that's why I'm here!
Oh yes, my dear, although you look so calmly indifferent, and can only
throw me a casual yes or no; you knew Derek in India! Tell me honestly,
Nancy,--did you ever hear a story about him and a _girl_? No, don't
get so red, I'm not going to tell you one of _mine_, I want to know
one of _his_! The uncle seems to have an idea, that Derek got himself
into a mess--a nasty scrape--with some woman in India,--black, for
choice,--but I'm sure that wouldn't be Derek's form. The old man is
anxious; he has talked to me,--I may tell you that he adores me, for
I amuse him and flirt with him.--Derek was out there for four years,
and I need not assure you, one can manage to get through a good deal of
mischief, in _that_ time.--I've done my level best to pump Derek, but
it was no go; I had better luck with one of his pals, Major Sanders,
who is in the same regiment.--I screwed it out of _him_, that he
believes there _is_ something,--although he cannot name the lady. For
the last couple of years, Derek has been short of money; he doesn't
join in things as he used to do, and he sold two ripping polo ponies.
Major Sanders thinks there may be some horrible creature, who claws
half his income, as blackmail!"
Nancy, who had been brushing her hair, now swept a quantity over her
face, which was burning. _She_ was the horrible creature who twice a
year, received, but rejected, the half of Captain Mayne's income.
"Tell me, Nance, did _you_ ever hear anything?--what was he like, in
those days?"
"Much the same as now," she murmured, through her veil of shining locks.
"More cheery and go-ahead?"
"Oh yes,--I think perhaps he was."
"I feel I knew Derek, and I'm certain, there's something on his
mind,--some _secret_; but whatever it is, cart-horses would not drag
it from him! He knows Aunt Julia, of course. If only she were at home,
she would throw a search-light on the mystery. I never met such a woman
for getting to the bottom of a business; but she won't be back till
September! Tell me, Nancy, did Derek Mayne know any girls, when you met
him?"
"Oh yes; he knew three or four planters' daughters."
"Did he flirt with them?"
"No, never, that I saw: he only cared for sport, and tennis."
"Well, I have reason to know that Derek likes _me_; we've been pals
since we were children, and if only this little mystery was cleared up,
I'd be perfectly happy! After all, there may be nothing in it,--what do
you say?"
Nancy threw back her flowing hair, and looked up at Josie, who had
risen, and was standing beside her,--one hand on her slim hip--the
other fingering a cigarette. "I say ..." she paused ... and then,
taking her courage in both hands, "I say, that from what I know of
Captain Mayne,--I don't think he will ever marry!"
"What preposterous nonsense!" exclaimed her visitor. "I know it's
not envy on your part, my child, for you don't like one another,--as
anyone can see with half an eye. He will marry: in fact he must
marry, and soon. His uncle is getting rampageous, and declares, that
if Derek hangs back,--he will take a wife himself. Derek and I, will
get on splendidly together," announced Josie, now walking about the
room, "he is so steady, and I'm just exactly the opposite!--I won't
be sorry to have a home of my own,--for I'm dead tired of my present
existence; a sort of life, the American summed up as, 'One damned thing
after another!'--Ah, here comes your maid with your frock; oh, my
dear, what a dream!--so I'll clear out and leave you, to put on your
rouge.--Joking apart, darling, you do look white; you've not been up to
the mark just lately, I expect you want a tonic."
"Oh no," said Nancy, rising. "Of course going about from morning till
night, and dancing from night till morning, _is_ rather fagging, but
I'm all right."
"Well, my sweet lamb, all _I_ can say is, that you _look_ all wrong;
however, I suppose you know best. Mind you keep my little secret."
She halted on her way to the door, and looked back with eyes of
expressive significance, then, satisfied with a nod, she swept out.