XIX

A few days later, Lady Kelsey and Lucy having gone on the river, Julia

Crowley went to Court Leys. When she came down to breakfast the day

after her arrival, she found waiting for her six pairs of long suede

gloves. She examined their size and their quality, smiled with

amusement, and felt a little annoyed. She really had every intention of

accepting Dick when he proposed to her, and she did not in the least

know why she had refused him. The conversation had carried her away in

her own despite. She loved a repartee and notwithstanding the

consequences could never resist making any that occurred to her. It was

very stupid of Dick to take her so seriously, and she was inclined to be

cross with him. Of course he had only gone to Paris to tease, and in a

week he would be back again. She knew that he was just as much in love

with her as she was with him, and it was absurd of him to put on airs.

She awaited the post each day impatiently, for she constantly expected a

letter from him to say he was coming down to luncheon. She made up her

mind about the _menu_ of the pleasant little meal she would set before

him, and in imagination rehearsed the scene in which she would at length

succumb to his passionate entreaties. It was evidently discreet not to

surrender with unbecoming eagerness. But no letter came. A week went by.

She began to think that Dick had no sense of humour. A second week

passed, and then a third. Perhaps it was because she had nothing to do

that Master Dick absorbed a quite unmerited degree of her attention. It

was very inconvenient and very absurd. She tormented herself with all

sorts of reasons to explain his absence, and once or twice, like the

spoiled child she was, she cried. But Mrs. Crowley was a sensible woman

and soon made up her mind that if she could not live without the

man--though heaven only knew why she wanted him--she had better take

steps to secure his presence. It was the end of August now, and she was

bored and lonely. She sent him a very untruthful telegram.

_I have to be in town on Friday to see my lawyer. May I come to tea

at five?_

_Julia._

His answer did not arrive for twenty-four hours, and then it was

addressed from Homburg.

_Regret immensely, but shall be away._

_Richard Lomas._

Julia stamped her tiny foot with indignation and laughed with amusement

at her own anger. It was monstrous that while she was leading the

dullest existence imaginable, he should be enjoying the gaieties of a

fashionable watering-place. She telegraphed once more.

_Thanks very much. Shall expect to see you on Friday._

_Julia._

She travelled up to town on the appointed day and went to her house in

Norfolk Street to see that the journey had left no traces on her

appearance. Mayfair seemed quite deserted, and half the windows were

covered with newspapers to keep out the dust. It was very hot, and the

sun beat down from a cloudless sky. The pavements were white and

dazzling. Julia realised with pleasure that she was the only cool person

in London, and the lassitude she saw in the passers-by added to her own

self-satisfaction. The month at the seaside had given an added freshness

to her perfection, and her charming gown had a breezy lightness that

must be very grateful to a gentleman of forty lately returned from

foreign parts. As she looked at herself in the glass, Mrs. Crowley

reflected that she did not know anyone who had a figure half so good as

hers.

When she drove up to Dick's house, she noticed that there were fresh

flowers in the window boxes, and when she was shown into his

drawing-room, the first thing that struck her was the scent of red roses

which were in masses everywhere. The blinds were down, and after the

baking street the dark coolness of the room was very pleasant. The tea

was on a little table, waiting to be poured out. Dick of course was

there to receive her. As she shook hands with him, she smothered a

little titter of wild excitement.

'So you've come back,' she said.

'I was just passing through town,' he answered, with an airy wave of the

hand.

'From where to where?'

'From Homburg to the Italian Lakes.'

'Rather out of your way, isn't it?' she smiled.

'Not at all,' he replied. 'If I were going from Manchester to Liverpool,

I should break the journey in London. That's one of my hobbies.'

Julia laughed gaily, and as they both made a capital tea, they talked

of all manner of trivial things. They were absurdly glad to see one

another again, and each was ready to be amused at everything the other

said. But the conversation would have been unintelligible to a listener,

since they mostly talked together, and every now and then made a little

scene when one insisted that the other should listen to what he was

saying.

Suddenly Mrs. Crowley threw up her hands with a gesture of dismay.

'Oh, how stupid of me!' she cried. 'I quite forgot to tell you why I

telegraphed to you the other day.'

'I know,' he retorted.

'Do you? Why?'

'Because you're the most disgraceful flirt I ever saw in my life,' he

answered promptly.

She opened her eyes wide with a very good imitation of complete

amazement.

'My dear Mr. Lomas, have you never contemplated yourself in a

looking-glass?'

'You're not a bit repentant of the havoc you have wrought,' he cried

dramatically.

She did not answer, but looked at him with a smile so entirely

delightful that he cried out irritably:

'I wish you wouldn't look like that.'

'How am I looking?' she smiled.

'To my innocent and inexperienced gaze very much as if you wanted to be

kissed.'

'You brute!' she cried. 'I'll never speak to you again.'

'Why do you make such rash statements? You know you couldn't hold you

tongue for two minutes together.'

'What a libel! I never can get a word in edgeways when I'm with you,'

she returned. 'You're such a chatterbox.'

'I don't know why you put on that aggrieved air. You seem to forget that

it's I who ought to be furious.'

'On the contrary, you behaved very unkindly to me a month ago, and I'm

only here to-day because I have a Christian disposition.'

'You forget that for the last four weeks I've been laboriously piecing

together the fragments of a broken heart,' he answered.

'It was entirely your fault,' she laughed. 'If you hadn't been so

certain I was going to accept you, I should never have refused. I

couldn't resist the temptation of saying no, just to see how you took

it.'

'I flatter myself I took it very well.'

'You didn't,' she answered. 'You showed an entire lack of humour. You

might have known that a nice woman doesn't accept a man the first time

he asks her. It was very silly of you to go to Homburg as if you didn't

care. How was I to know that you meant to wait a month before asking me

again?'

He looked at her for a moment calmly.

'I haven't the least intention of asking you again.'

But it required much more than this to put Julia Crowley out of

countenance.

'Then why on earth did you invite me to tea?'

'May I respectfully remind you that you invited yourself?' he protested.

'That's just like a man. He will go into irrelevant details,' she

answered.

'Now, don't be cross,' he smiled.

'I shall be cross if I want to,' she exclaimed, with a little stamp of

her foot. 'You're not being at all nice to me.'

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, and his eyes twinkled.

'Do you know what I'd do if I were you?'

'No, what?'

'Well, _I_ can't suffer the humiliation of another refusal. Why don't

you propose to me?'

'What cheek!' she cried.

Their eyes met, and she smiled.

'What will you say if I do?'

'That entirely depends on how you do it.'

'I don't know how,' she murmured plaintively.

'Yes, you do,' he insisted. 'You gave me an admirable lesson. First you

go on your bended knees, and then you say you're quite unworthy of me.'

'You are the most spiteful creature I've ever known,' she laughed.

'You're just the sort of man who'd beat his wife.'

'Every Saturday night regularly,' he agreed.

She hesitated, looking at him.

'Well?' he said.

'I shan't,' she answered.

'Then I shall continue to be a brother to you.'

She got up and curtsied.

'Mr. Lomas, I am a widow, twenty-nine years of age, and extremely

eligible. My maid is a treasure, and my dressmaker is charming. I'm

clever enough to laugh at your jokes and not so learned as to know where

they come from.'

'Really you're very long winded. I said it all in four words.'

'You evidently put it too briefly, since you were refused,' she smiled.

She stretched out her hands, and he took them.

'I think I'll do it by post,' she said. 'It'll sound so much more

becoming.'

'You'd better get it over now.'

'You know, I don't really want to marry you a bit. I'm only doing it to

please you.'

'I admire your unselfishness.'

'You will say yes if I ask you?'

'I refuse to commit myself.'

'Obstinate beast,' she cried.

She curtsied once more, as well as she could since he was firmly holding

her hands.

'Sir, I have the honour to demand your hand in marriage.'

He bowed elaborately.

'Madam, I have much pleasure in acceding to your request.'

Then he drew her towards him and put his arms around her.

'I never saw anyone make such a fuss about so insignificant a detail as

marriage,' she murmured.

'You have the softest lips I ever kissed,' he said.

'I wish to goodness you'd be serious,' she laughed. 'I've got something

very important to say to you.'

'You're not going to tell me the story of your past life,' he cried.

'No, I was thinking of my engagement ring. I make a point of having a

cabochon emerald: I collect them.'

'No sooner said than done,' he cried.

He took a ring from his pocket and slipped it on her finger. She looked

from it to him.

'You see, I know that you made a specialty of emeralds.'

'Then you meant to ask me all the time?'

'I confess it to my shame: I did,' he laughed.

'Oh, I wish I'd known that before.'

'What would you have done?'

'I'd have refused you again, you silly.'

* * *

Dick Lomas and Mrs. Crowley said nothing about their engagement to

anyone, since it seemed to both that the marriage of a middle-aged

gentleman and a widow of uncertain years could concern no one but

themselves. The ceremony was duly performed in a deserted church on a

warm September day, when there was not a soul in London. Mrs. Crowley

was given away by her solicitor, and the verger signed the book. The

happy pair went to Court Leys for a fortnight's honeymoon and at the

beginning of October returned to London; they made up their minds that

they would go to America later in the autumn.

'I want to show you off to all my friends in New York,' said Julia,

gaily.

'Do you think they'll like me?' asked Dick.

'Not at all. They'll say: That silly little fool Julia Crowley has

married another beastly Britisher.'

'That is more alliterative than polite,' he retorted.

'On the other hand my friends and relations are already saying: What on

earth has poor Dick Lomas married an American for? We always thought he

was very well-to-do.'

They went into roars of laughter, for they were in that state of

happiness when the whole world seemed the best of jokes, and they spent

their days in laughing at one another and at things in general. Life

was a pleasant thing, and they could not imagine why others should not

take it as easily as themselves.

They had engaged rooms at the _Carlton_ while they were furnishing a new

house. Each had one already, but neither would live in the other's, and

so it had seemed necessary to look out for a third. Julia vowed that

there was an air of bachelordom about Dick's house which made it

impossible for a married woman to inhabit; and Dick, on his side,

refused to move into Julia's establishment in Norfolk Street, since it

gave him the sensation of being a fortune-hunter living on his wife's

income. Besides, a new house gave an opportunity for extravagance which

delighted both of them since they realised perfectly that the only

advantage of having plenty of money was to spend it in unnecessary

ways. They were a pair of light-hearted children, who refused firmly to

consider the fact that they were more than twenty-five.

Lady Kelsey and Lucy had gone from the River to Spa, for the elder

woman's health, and on their return Julia went to see them in order to

receive their congratulations and display her extreme happiness. She

came back thoughtfully. When she sat down to luncheon with Dick in their

sitting-room at the hotel, he saw that she was disturbed. He asked her

what was the matter.

'Lucy has broken off her engagement with Robert Boulger,' she said.

'That young woman seems to make a speciality of breaking her

engagements,' he answered drily.

'I'm afraid she's still in love with Alec MacKenzie.'

'Then why on earth did she accept Bobbie?'

'My dear boy, she only took him in a fit of temper. When that had

cooled down she very wisely thought better of it.'

'I can never sufficiently admire the reasonableness of your sex,' said

Dick, ironically.

Julia shrugged her pretty shoulders.

'Half the women I know merely married their husbands to spite somebody

else. I assure you it's one of the commonest causes of matrimony.'

'Then heaven save me from matrimony,' cried Dick.

'It hasn't,' she laughed.

But immediately she grew serious once more.

'Mr. MacKenzie was in Brussels while they were in Spa.'

'I had a letter from him this morning.'

'Lady Kelsey says that according to the papers he's going to Africa

again. I think it's that which has upset Lucy. They made a great fuss

about him in Brussels.'

'Yes, he tells me that everything is fixed up, and he proposes to start

quite shortly. He's going to do some work in the Congo Free State. They

want to find a new waterway, and the King of the Belgians has given him

a free hand.'

'I suppose the King of the Belgians looks upon one atrocity more or less

with equanimity,' said Julia.

They were silent for a minute or two, while each was occupied with his

own thoughts.

'You saw him after Lucy broke off the engagement,' said Julia,

presently. 'Was he very wretched?'

'He never said a word. I wanted to comfort him, but he never gave me a

chance. He never even mentioned Lucy's name.'

'Did he seem unhappy?'

'No. He was just the same as ever, impassive and collected.'

'Really, he's inhuman,' exclaimed Julia impatiently.

'He's an anomaly in this juvenile century,' Dick agreed. 'He's an

ancient Roman who buys his clothes in Savile Row.'

'Then he's very much in the way in England, and it's much better that he

should go back to Africa.'

'I suppose it is. Here he reminds one of an eagle caged with a colony of

canaries.'

Julia looked at her husband reflectively.

'I think you're the only friend who has stuck to him,' she said.

'I wouldn't put it in that way. After all, I'm the only friend he ever

had. It was not unnatural that a number of acquaintances should drop him

when he got into hot water.'

'It must have been a great help to find someone who believed in him

notwithstanding everything.'

'I'm afraid it sounds very immoral, but whatever his crimes were, I

should never like Alec less. You see, he's been so awfully good and kind

to me, I can look on with fortitude while he plays football with the Ten

Commandments.'

Julia's emotions were always sudden, and the tears came to her eyes as

she answered.

'I'm really beginning to think you a perfect angel, Dick.'

'Don't say that,' he retorted quickly. 'It makes me feel so middle-aged.

I'd much sooner be a young sinner than an elderly cherub.'

Smiling, she stretched out her hand, and he held it for a moment.

'You know, though I can't help liking you, I don't in the least approve

of you.'

'Good heavens, why not?' he cried.

'Well, I was brought up to believe that a man should work, and you're

disgracefully idle.'

'Good heavens, to marry an American wife is the most arduous profession

in the world,' he cried. 'One has to combine the energy of the Universal

Provider with the patience of an ambassador at the Sublime Porte.'

'You foolish creature,' she laughed.

But her thoughts immediately reverted to Lucy. Her pallid, melancholy

face still lingered in Julia's memory, and her heart was touched by the

hopeless woe that dwelt in her beautiful eyes.

'I suppose there's no doubt that those stories about Alec MacKenzie were

true?' she said, thoughtfully.

Dick gave her a quick glance. He wondered what was in her mind.

'I'll tell you what I think,' he said. 'Anyone who knows Alec as well as

I do must be convinced that he did nothing from motives that were mean

and paltry. To accuse him of cowardice is absurd--he's the bravest man

I've ever known--and it's equally absurd to accuse him of weakness. But

what I do think is this: Alec is not the man to stick at half measures,

and he's taken desperately to heart the maxim which says that he who

desires an end desires the means also. I think he might be very

ruthless, and on occasion he might be stern to the verge of brutality.

Reading between the lines of those letters that Macinnery sent to the

_Daily Mail_, I have wondered if Alec, finding that someone must be

sacrificed, didn't deliberately choose George Allerton because he was

the least useful to him and could be best spared. Even in small

undertakings like that there must be some men who are only food for

powder. If Alec had found George worthless to him, no consideration for

Lucy would have prevented him from sacrificing him.'

'If that were so why didn't he say it outright?'

'Do you think it would have made things any better? The British public

is sentimental; they will not understand that in warfare it is necessary

sometimes to be inhuman. And how would it have served him with Lucy if

he had confessed that he had used George callously as a pawn in his game

that must be sacrificed to win some greater advantage?'

'It's all very horrible,' shuddered Julia.

'And so far as the public goes, events have shown that he was right to

keep silence. The agitation against him died down for want of matter,

and though he is vaguely discredited, nothing is proved definitely

against him. Public opinion is very fickle, and already people are

beginning to forget, and as they forget they will think they have

misjudged him. When it is announced that he has given his services to

the King of the Belgians, ten to one there will be a reaction in his

favour.'

They got up from luncheon, and coffee was served to them. They lit their

cigarettes. For some time they were silent.

'Lucy wants to see him before he goes,' said Julia suddenly.

Dick looked at her and gave an impatient shrug of the shoulders.

'I suppose she wants to indulge a truly feminine passion for making

scenes. She's made Alec quite wretched enough already.'

'Don't be unkind to her, Dick,' said Julia, tears welling up in her

bright eyes. 'You don't know how desperately unhappy she is. My heart

bled to see her this morning.'

'Darling, I'll do whatever you want me to,' he said, leaning over her.

Julia's sense of the ridiculous was always next door to her sense of the

pathetic.

'I don't know why you should kiss me because Lucy's utterly miserable,'

she said, with a little laugh.

And then, gravely, as she nestled in his encircling arm:

'Will you try and manage it? She hesitates to write to him.'

'I'm not sure if I had not better leave you to impart the pleasing

information yourself,' he replied. 'I've asked Alec to come here this

afternoon.'

'You're a selfish beast,' she answered. 'But in that case you must leave

me alone with him, because I shall probably weep gallons of tears, and

you'll only snigger at me.'

'Bless your little heart! Let us put handkerchiefs in every conceivable

place.'

'On occasions like this I carry a bagful about with me.'

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