XV

A few hours later Lady Kelsey's dance was in full swing, and to all

appearances it was a great success. Many people were there, and everyone

seemed to enjoy himself. On the surface, at all events, there was

nothing to show that anything had occurred to disturb the evening's

pleasure, and for most of the party the letter in the _Daily Mail_ was

no more than a welcome topic of conversation.

Presently Canon Spratte went into the smoking-room. He had on his arm,

as was his amiable habit, the prettiest girl at the dance, Grace Vizard,

a niece of that Lady Vizard who was a pattern of all the proprieties and

a devout member of the Church of Rome. He found that Mrs. Crowley and

Robert Boulger were already sitting there, and he greeted them

courteously.

'I really must have a cigarette,' he said, going up to the table on

which were all the necessary things for refreshment.

'If you press me dreadfully I'll have one, too,' said Mrs. Crowley, with

a flash of her beautiful teeth.

'Don't press her,' said Bobbie. 'She's had six already, and in a moment

she'll be seriously unwell.'

'Well, I'll forego the pressing, but not the cigarette.'

Canon Spratte gallantly handed her the box, and gave her a light.

'It's against all my principles, you know,' he smiled.

'What is the use of principles except to give one an agreeable

sensation of wickedness when one doesn't act up to them?'

The words were hardly out of her mouth when Dick and Lady Kelsey

appeared.

'Dear Mrs. Crowley, you're as epigrammatic as a dramatist,' he

exclaimed. 'Do you say such things from choice or necessity?'

He had arrived late, and this was the first time she had seen him since

they had all gone their ways before Whitsun. He mixed himself a whisky

and soda.

'After all, is there anything you know so thoroughly insufferable as a

ball?' he said, reflectively, as he sipped it with great content.

'Nothing, if you ask me pointblank,' said Lady Kelsey, smiling with

relief because he took so flippantly the news she had lately poured into

his ear. 'But it's excessively rude of you to say so.'

'I don't mind yours, Lady Kelsey, because I can smoke as much as I

please, and keep away from the sex which is technically known as fair.'

Mrs. Crowley felt the remark was directed to her.

'I'm sure you think us a vastly overrated institution, Mr. Lomas,' she

murmured.

'I venture to think the world was not created merely to give women an

opportunity to wear Paris frocks.'

'I'm rather pleased to hear you say that.'

'Why?' asked Dick, on his guard.

'We're all so dreadfully tired of being goddesses. For centuries foolish

men have set us up on a pedestal and vowed they were unworthy to touch

the hem of our garments. And it _is_ so dull.'

'What a clever woman you are, Mrs. Crowley. You always say what you

don't mean.'

'You're really very rude.'

'Now that impropriety is out of fashion, rudeness is the only short cut

to a reputation for wit.'

Canon Spratte did not like Dick. He thought he talked too much. It was

fortunately easy to change the conversation.

'Unlike Mr. Lomas, I thoroughly enjoy a dance,' he said, turning to Lady

Kelsey. 'My tastes are ingenuous, and I can only hope you've enjoyed

your evening as much as your guests.'

'I?' cried Lady Kelsey. 'I've been suffering agonies.' They all knew to

what she referred, and the remark gave Boulger an opportunity to speak

to Dick Lomas.

'I suppose you saw the _Mail_ this morning?' he asked.

'I never read the papers except in August,' answered Dick drily.

'When there's nothing in them?' asked Mrs. Crowley.

'Pardon me, I am an eager student of the sea-serpent and of the giant

gooseberry.'

'I should like to kick that man,' said Bobbie, indignantly.

Dick smiled.

'My dear chap, Alec is a hardy Scot and bigger than you; I really

shouldn't advise you to try.'

'Of course you've heard all about this business?' said Canon Spratte.

'I've only just arrived from Paris. I knew nothing of it till Lady

Kelsey told me.'

'What do you think?'

'I don't think at all; I _know_ there's not a word of truth in it. Since

Alec arrived at Mombassa, he's been acclaimed by everyone, private and

public, who had any right to an opinion. Of course it couldn't last.

There was bound to be a reaction.'

'Do you know anything of this man Macinnery?' asked Boulger.

'It so happens that I do. Alec found him half starving at Mombassa, and

took him solely out of charity. But he was a worthless rascal and had to

be sent back.'

'He seems to me to give ample proof for every word he says,' retorted

Bobbie.

Dick shrugged his shoulders scornfully.

'As I've already explained to Lady Kelsey, whenever an explorer comes

home there's someone to tell nasty stories about him. People forget that

kid gloves are not much use in a tropical forest, and they grow very

indignant when they hear that a man has used a little brute force to

make himself respected.'

'All that's beside the point,' said Boulger, impatiently. 'MacKenzie

sent poor George into a confounded trap to save his own dirty skin.'

'Poor Lucy!' moaned Lady Kelsey. 'First her father died....'

'You're not going to count that as an overwhelming misfortune?' Dick

interrupted. 'We were unanimous in describing that gentleman's demise as

an uncommon happy release.'

'I was engaged to dine with him this evening,' said Bobbie, pursuing his

own bitter reflections. 'I wired to say I had a headache and couldn't

come.'

'What will he think if he sees you here?' cried Lady Kelsey.

'He can think what he likes.'

Canon Spratte felt that it was needful now to put in the decisive word

which he always expected from himself. He rubbed his hands blandly.

'In this matter I must say I agree entirely with our friend Bobbie. I

read the letter with the utmost care, and I could see no loophole of

escape. Until Mr. MacKenzie gives a definite answer I can hardly help

looking upon him as nothing less than a murderer. In these things I feel

that one should have the courage of one's opinions. I saw him in

Piccadilly this evening, and I cut him dead. Nothing will induce me to

shake hands with a man on whom rests so serious an accusation.'

'I hope to goodness he doesn't come,' said Lady Kelsey.

Canon Spratte looked at his watch and gave her a reassuring smile.

'I think you may feel quite safe. It's really growing very late.'

'You say that Lucy doesn't know anything about this?' asked Dick.

'No,' said Lady Kelsey. 'I wanted to give her this evening's enjoyment

unalloyed.'

Dick shrugged his shoulders again. He did not understand how Lady Kelsey

expected no suggestion to reach Lucy of a matter which seemed a common

topic of conversation. The pause which followed Lady Kelsey's words was

not broken when Lucy herself appeared. She was accompanied by a spruce

young man, to whom she turned with a smile.

'I thought we should find your partner here.'

He went to Grace Vizard, and claiming her for the dance that was about

to begin, took her away. Lucy went up to Lady Kelsey and leaned over the

chair in which she sat.

'Are you growing very tired, my aunt?' she asked kindly.

'I can rest myself till supper time. I don't think anyone else will come

now.'

'Have you forgotten Mr. MacKenzie?'

Lady Kelsey looked up quickly, but did not reply. Lucy put her hand

gently on her aunt's shoulder.

'My dear, it was charming of you to hide the paper from me this morning.

But it wasn't very wise.'

'Did you see that letter?' cried Lady Kelsey. 'I so wanted you not to

till to-morrow.'

'Mr. MacKenzie very rightly thought I should know at once what was said

about him and my brother. He sent me the paper himself this evening.'

'Did he write to you?' asked Dick.

'No, he merely scribbled on a card: _I think you should read this_.'

No one answered. Lucy turned and faced them; her cheeks were pale, but

she was very calm. She looked gravely at Robert Boulger, waiting for him

to say what she knew was in his mind, so that she might express at once

her utter disbelief in the charges that were brought against Alec. But

he did not speak, and she was obliged to utter her defiant words without

provocation.

'He thought it unnecessary to assure me that he hadn't betrayed the

trust I put in him.'

'Do you mean to say the letter left any doubt in your mind?' said

Boulger.

'Why on earth should I believe the unsupported words of a subordinate

who was dismissed for misbehaviour?'

'For my part, I can only say that I never read anything more convincing

in my life.'

'I could hardly believe him guilty of such a crime if he confessed it

with his own lips.'

Bobbie shrugged his shoulders. It was only with difficulty that he held

back the cruel words that were on his lips. But as if Lucy read his

thoughts, her cheeks flushed.

'I think it's infamous that you should all be ready to believe the

worst,' she said hotly, in a low voice that trembled with indignant

anger. 'You're all of you so petty, so mean, that you welcome the chance

of spattering with mud a man who is so infinitely above you. You've not

given him a chance to defend himself.'

Bobbie turned very pale. Lucy had never spoken to him in such a way

before, and wrath flamed up in his heart, wrath mixed with hopeless

love. He paused for a moment to command himself.

'You don't know apparently that interviewers went to him from the

evening papers, and he refused to speak.'

'He has never consented to be interviewed. Why should you expect him now

to break his rule?'

Bobbie was about to answer, when a sudden look of dismay on Lady

Kelsey's face stopped him. He turned round and saw MacKenzie standing at

the door. He came forward with a smile, holding out his hand, and

addressed himself to Lady Kelsey.

'I thought I should find you here,' he said.

He was perfectly collected. He glanced around the room with a smile of

quiet amusement. A certain embarrassment seized the little party, and

Lady Kelsey, as she shook hands with him, was at a loss for words.

'How do you do?' she faltered. 'We've just been talking of you.'

'Really?'

The twinkle in his eyes caused her to lose the remainder of her

self-possession, and she turned scarlet.

'It's so late, we were afraid you wouldn't come. I should have been

dreadfully disappointed.'

'It's very kind of you to say so. I've been at the _Travellers_, reading

various appreciations of my character.'

A hurried look of alarm crossed Lady Kelsey's good-tempered face.

'Oh, I heard there was something about you in the papers,' she answered.

'There's a good deal. I really had no idea the world was so interested

in me.'

'It's charming of you to come here to-night,' the good lady smiled,

beginning to feel more at ease. 'I'm sure you hate dances.'

'Oh, no, they interest me enormously. I remember, an African king once

gave a dance in my honour. Four thousand warriors in war-paint. I assure

you it was a most impressive sight.'

'My dear fellow,' Dick chuckled, 'if paint is the attraction, you really

need not go much further than Mayfair.'

The scene amused him. He was deeply interested in Alec's attitude, for

he knew him well enough to be convinced that his discreet gaiety was

entirely assumed. It was impossible to tell by it what course he meant

to adopt; and at the same time there was about him a greater

unapproachableness, which warned all and sundry that it would be wiser

to attempt no advance. But for his own part he did not care; he meant to

have a word with Alec at the first opportunity.

Alec's quiet eyes now rested on Robert Boulger.

'Ah, there's my little friend Bobbikins. I thought you had a headache?'

Lady Kelsey remembered her nephew's broken engagement and interposed

quickly.

'I'm afraid Bobbie is dreadfully dissipated. He's not looking at all

well.'

'You shouldn't keep such late hours,' said Alec, good-humouredly. 'At

your age one needs one's beauty sleep.'

'It's very kind of you to take an interest in me,' said Boulger,

flushing with annoyance. 'My headache has passed off.'

'I'm very glad. What do you use--phenacetin?'

'It went away of its own accord after dinner,' returned Bobbie frigidly,

conscious that he was being laughed at, but unable to extricate himself.

'So you resolved to give the girls a treat by coming to Lady Kelsey's

dance? How nice of you not to disappoint them!'

Alec turned to Lucy, and they looked into one another's eyes.

'I sent you a paper this evening,' he said gravely.

'It was very good of you.'

There was a silence. All who were present felt that the moment was

impressive, and it needed Canon Spratte's determination to allow none

but himself to monopolise attention, to bring to an end a situation

which might have proved awkward. He came forward and offered his arm to

Lucy.

'I think this is my dance. May I take you in?'

He was trying to repeat the direct cut which he had given Alec earlier

in the day. Alec looked at him.

'I saw you in Piccadilly this evening. You were dashing about like a

young gazelle.'

'I didn't see you,' said the Canon, frigidly.

'I observed that you were deeply engrossed in the shop windows as I

passed. How are you?'

He held out his hand. For a moment the Canon hesitated to take it, but

Alec's gaze compelled him.

'How do you do?' he said.

He felt, rather than heard, Dick's chuckle, and reddening, offered his

arm to Lucy.

'Won't you come, Mr. MacKenzie?' said Lady Kelsey, making the best of

her difficulty.

'If you don't mind, I'll stay and smoke a cigarette with Dick Lomas. You

know, I'm not a dancing man.'

It seemed that Alec was giving Dick the opportunity he sought, and as

soon as they found themselves alone, the sprightly little man attacked

him.

'I suppose you know we were all beseeching Providence you'd have the

grace to stay away to-night?' he said.

'I confess that I suspected it,' smiled Alec. 'I shouldn't have come,

only I wanted to see Miss Allerton.'

'This fellow Macinnery proposes to make things rather uncomfortable, I

imagine.'

'I made a mistake, didn't I?' said Alec, with a thin smile. 'I should

have dropped him in the river when I had no further use for him.'

'What are you going to do?'

'Nothing.'

Dick stared at him.

'Do you mean to say you're going to sit still and let them throw mud at

you?'

'If they want to.'

'But look here, Alec, what the deuce is the meaning of the whole thing?'

Alec looked at him quietly.

'If I had intended to take the world in general into my confidence, I

wouldn't have refused to see the interviewers who came to me this

evening.'

'We've known one another for twenty years, Alec,' said Dick.

'Then you may be quite sure that if I refuse to discuss this matter with

you, it must be for excellent reasons.'

Dick sprang up excitedly.

'But, good God! you must explain. You can't let a charge like this rest

on you. After all, it's not Tom, Dick, or Harry that's concerned; it's

Lucy's brother. You must speak.'

'I've never yet discovered that I must do anything that I don't choose,'

answered Alec.

Dick flung himself into a chair. He knew that when Alec spoke in that

fashion no power on earth could move him. The whole thing was entirely

unexpected, and he was at a loss for words. He had not read the letter

which was causing all the bother, and knew only what Lady Kelsey had

told him. He had some hope that on a close examination various things

would appear which must explain Alec's attitude; but at present it was

incomprehensible.

'Has it occurred to you that Lucy is very much in love with you, Alec?'

he said at last.

Alec did not answer. He made no movement.

'What will you do if this loses you her love?'

'I have counted the cost,' said Alec, coldly.

He got up from his chair, and Dick saw that he did not wish to continue

the discussion. There was a moment of silence, and then Lucy came in.

'I've given my partner away to a wall-flower,' she said, with a faint

smile. 'I felt I must have a few words alone with you.'

'I will make myself scarce,' said Dick.

They waited till he was gone. Then Lucy turned feverishly to Alec.

'Oh, I'm so glad you've come. I wanted so much to see you.'

'I'm afraid people have been telling you horrible things about me.'

'They wanted to hide it from me.'

'It never occurred to me that people _could_ say such shameful things,'

he said gravely.

It tormented him a little because it had been so easy to care nothing

for the world's adulation, and it was so hard to care as little for its

censure. He felt very bitter.

He took Lucy's hand and made her sit on the sofa by his side.

'There's something I must tell you at once.'

She looked at him without answering.

'I've made up my mind to give no answer to the charges that are brought

against me.'

Lucy looked up quickly, and their eyes met.

'I give you my word of honour that I've done nothing which I regret. I

swear to you that what I did was right with regard to George, and if it

were all to come again I would do exactly as I did before.'

She did not answer for a long time.

'I never doubted you for a single moment,' she said at last.

'That is all I care about.' He looked down, and there was a certain

shyness in his voice when he spoke again. 'To-day is the first time I've

wanted to be assured that I was trusted; and yet I'm ashamed to want

it.'

'Don't be too hard upon yourself,' she said gently. 'You're so afraid of

letting your tenderness appear.'

He seemed to give earnest thought to what she said. Lucy had never seen

him more grave.

'The only way to be strong is _never_ to surrender to one's weakness.

Strength is merely a habit. I want you to be strong, too. I want you

never to doubt me whatever you hear said.'

'I gave my brother into your hands, and I said that if he died a brave

man's death, I could ask for no more. You told me that such a death was

his.'

'I thought of you always, and everything I did was for your sake. Every

single act of mine during these four years in Africa has been done

because I loved you.'

It was the first time since his return that he had spoken of love. Lucy

bent her head still lower.

'Do you remember, I asked you a question before I went away? You refused

to marry me then, but you told me that if I asked again when I came

back, the answer might be different.'

'Yes.'

'The hope bore me up in every difficulty and in every danger. And when I

came back I dared not ask you at once; I was so afraid that you would

refuse once more. And I didn't wish you to think yourself bound by a

vague promise. But each day I loved you more passionately.'

'I knew, and I was very grateful for your love.'

'Yesterday I could have offered you a certain name. I only cared for the

honours they gave me so that I might put them at your feet. But what can

I offer you now?'

'You must love me always, Alec, for now I have only you.'

'Are you sure that you will never believe that I am guilty of this

crime?'

'Why can you say nothing in self-defence?'

'That I can't tell you either.'

There was a silence between them. At last Alec spoke again.

'But perhaps it will be easier for you to believe in me than for others,

because you know that I loved you, and I can't have done the odious

thing of which that man accuses me.'

'I will never believe it. I do not know what your reasons are for

keeping all this to yourself, but I trust you, and I know that they are

good. If you cannot speak, it is because greater interests hold you

back. I love you, Alec, with all my heart, and if you wish me to be your

wife I shall be proud and honoured.'

He took her in his arms, and as he kissed her, she wept tears of

happiness. She did not want to think. She wanted merely to surrender

herself to his strength.