"It is too ridiculous. I don't believe it can be all real. That was
drama, pure spontaneous drama. But it's drama for all that. I'm sure I
don't know why I laughed, now I come to think of it. It really is no
laughing matter. All the same I wonder why she didn't tell me that. But
her sister has got no business to repeat those kind of things. Don't
tell anyone else, Bertie."
Then after a minute he repeated to himself, "I wonder why she didn't
tell me that."
"Jack," said Bertie after another pause, "I don't wish you to think
that I want to meddle in your concerns, and so don't tell me unless you
like, but was anything ever up between you and Dodo? Lie freely if you
would rather not tell me, please."
"Yes," he said simply. "I asked her to marry me last April, and she
said 'No.' I haven't told anyone till this minute, because I don't
like it to be known when I fail. I am like Dodo in that. You know
how she detests not being able to do anything she wants. It doesn't
often happen, but when it does, Dodo becomes damnable. She has more
perseverance than I have, though. When she can't get anything, she
makes such a fuss that she usually does succeed eventually. But I do
just the other thing. I go away, and don't say anything about it. That
was a bad failure. I remember being very much vexed at the time."
Jack spoke dreamily, as if he was thinking of something else. It was
his way not to blaze abroad anything that affected him deeply. Like
Dodo he would often dissect himself in a superficial manner, and act as
a kind of showman to his emotions; but he did not care to turn himself
inside out with her thoroughness. And above all, as he had just said,
he hated the knowledge of a failure; he tried to conceal it even from
himself. He loved to show his brighter side to the world. When he was
in society he always put on his best mental and moral clothes, those
that were newest and fitted him most becomingly; the rags and tatters
were thrown deep into the darkest cupboard, and the key sternly turned
on them. Now and then, however, as on this occasion, a friend brought
him the key with somewhat embarrassing openness, and manners prevented
him from putting his back to the door. But when it was unlocked he
adopted the tone of, "Yes, there are some old things in there, I
believe. May you see? Oh, certainly; but please shut it after you, and
don't let anyone else in. I quite forget what is in there myself, it's
so long since I looked."
Bertie was silent. He was on those terms of intimacy with the other
that do not need ordinary words of condolence or congratulation.
Besides, from his own point of view, he inwardly congratulated Jack,
and this was not the sort of occasion on which to tell him that
congratulation rather than sympathy was what the event demanded. Then
Jack went on, still with the air of a spectator than of a principal
character,--
"Dodo talked to me a good deal about her marriage. I am sorry about it,
for I think that Chesterford will be terribly disillusioned. You know
he doesn't take things lightly, and he is much too hopelessly fond of
Dodo ever to be content with what she will grant him as a wife. But we
cannot do anything. I told her what I thought, not because I hoped to
make any change in the matter, but because I wished her to know that
for once in her life she has made a failure--a bad, hopeless mistake.
That has been my revenge. Come, it's after one, I must go home. I shall
go there this evening; shall I see you?"