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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/34919-8.txt b/34919-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9a076cd --- /dev/null +++ b/34919-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9817 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Vision House, by C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Vision House + +Author: C. N. Williamson + A. M. Williamson + +Release Date: January 11, 2011 [EBook #34919] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VISION HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + VISION HOUSE + + By C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON + +Author of "_The Lion's Mouse_," "_The Second Latchkey_," +"_Everyman's Land_," etc. + + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + + Publishers New York + + Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company + + COPYRIGHT, 1921, + + BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + TO + THE GRAND CANYON + AND ARIZONA + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I ENTER MISS SOREL + +II EXIT THE BLIGHTER + +III A CABIN WINDOW + +IV REPRISALS--ET CETERA + +V ANONYMOUS + +VI ON SUNDAY AT THREE + +VII SAMSON AGONISTES + +VIII WHAT THE STAR SAID + +IX SOMETHING OUT OF ANCIENT ROME + +X THE THING SHE COULD NOT EXPLAIN + +XI EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE + +XII "HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT, TOO!" + +XIII "CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?" + +XIV MARISE PUTS ON BLACK + +XV THE CHURCH DOOR + +XVI FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE + +XVII THE SPEAKING-TUBE + +XVIII AU REVOIR--TILL SOMETIME! + +XIX WHY THE BARGAIN WAS OFF + +XX THE BRIDAL SUITE + +XXI KEEPING UP APPEARANCES + +XXII A SHOCK AND A SNUB OR TWO + +XXIII THE DREAM + +XXIV ACCORDING TO MUMS + +XXV "SOME DAY--SOME WAY--SOMEHOW!" + +XXVI THE END OF THE JOURNEY + +XXVII SECOND FIDDLE + +XXVIII MOTHEREEN + +XXIX THE WHITE DOVE + +XXX THE VIGIL LIGHT + +XXXI THE ALBUM + +XXXII THE BEREAVED ONE + +XXXIII THE VISITORS' BOOK + +XXXIV THE TERRACE + +XXXV STRAIGHT TALK + +XXXVI STUMBLING IN THE DARK + +XXXVII ZÉLIE GETS EVEN + +XXXVIII WHEN SEVERANCE THREW DOWN THE KEY + + + + + +VISION HOUSE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ENTER MISS SOREL + + +It was the third day out from Liverpool on the way to New York, and +people were just beginning to take an interest in each other's names and +looks. + +The passenger list of the _Britannia_ was posted up close to the lift on +B deck, but the weather had not encouraged curious groups to study and +inwardly digest its items. In fact, digestion of all sorts had been +difficult. To-day, however, the huge ship had ceased to step on and +stumble over monster waves, and had slipped into a sea of silken blue. +Bad sailors and lazy ones were on deck staring at their fellows as at +unearthly creatures who had dropped on board since the vessel sailed, +miraculously like manna from heaven. The news had flown round, as news +flies in an Eastern bazaar, that there were three names of conspicuous +interest on the hitherto neglected list, and that now was the moment for +"spotting" their owners. + +Two of these should be easy to find, for their steamer chairs, plainly +labelled, stood side by side on A deck, where everyone sat or was +supposed to sit. The sea dogs and dogesses who braved all weathers had +nosed out those labels, but had so far watched in vain for the chairs to +be occupied. They had observed, also, that corresponding places at the +captain's table were vacant. There were three chairs together on deck, +and in the dining-saloon, but the third did not count with the public. +It was that of a mere chaperon--The Girl's mother. She was not the third +of the Three Thrilling Passengers. That person happened to be a man, and +he had neither chair nor label. If he had eaten a meal outside his cabin +he had somehow passed unrecognised. + +The stewards, questioned, said that John Garth had not applied for a +seat at table. Yes, certainly, one had been assigned to him, next Mrs. +Sorel, she being in the place of honour on the right of the +_Britannia's_ captain. In this position Garth would have faced Lord +Severance, and sat diagonally opposite Miss Sorel, who was on the +captain's left. But the favoured man had ignored his privilege. It was +understood that he preferred snatching vague sandwiches and glasses of +beer at odd hours in the smoking-room, or on deck; therefore it would be +hard to identify him. Meanwhile, however, celebrity seekers gathered +near those three chairs on the sunny port side of A deck. + +By ten o'clock the crowd had thickened; but it was not till close on +eleven that a tall figure in uniform, preceded by a steward with rugs, +sat down in the chair ticketed "Major the Earl of Severance." + +Many Americans were on board, homeward bound after months of Red Cross +and other war work, and they knew in their hearts, no doubt, that +titles, once valued by snobs, were absolutely out-of-date in this +newly-democratised world. Nevertheless, they threw glances at Lord +Severance. Their glances would not have been wasted on a mere every-day +male. Of course, their excuse might have been that they'd prefer +glancing at their own American Johnny Garth, who was as much a major as +Lord Severance, and, being a V.C. (the one and only American V.C.), +twice as much a man for them. + +But then Garth wasn't in sight, and Severance was. Besides, the chair +between Lord Severance's and Mrs. Sorel's was ticketed "Miss Marise +Sorel." Nobody could deny that Miss Sorel was worth flocking to gaze at, +had Severance not existed. + +Thousands, hundred of thousands, of men and women paid good money to +gaze at her in theatres. Here she could be seen free of charge. But was +she coming out? the deck pilgrims wondered. And Lord Severance had an +air of wondering, too. He held a book in his hand; but his eyes were +often on the nearest door. + +They were strikingly fine eyes, and Lord Severance was in appearance a +striking man. "Stunning" was an adjective used by some American +promenaders. They remarked, too, that he "wasn't a typical Englishman. +You'd think he was Spanish or something." + +He was not Spanish, but half of him was not English; the "something" was +Greek. His mother had been a Greek heiress and beauty, but her money and +looks had been lost before she died. Most valuable things were lost +after they had been in the Severance family for any length of time. The +beautiful Greek woman's handsome son had pale olive skin, a straight +nose, full red lips under a miniature moustache like two inked +finger-prints, raven hair sleekly brushed straight back from his square +forehead, and immense eyes of unfathomable blackness. + +He was going to "the States" on some military mission, no one knew quite +what, and so, although the war had finished months ago, he was still in +uniform, with the "brass hat" of a staff officer, and the gorgeous +grey-lavender overcoat of the Guards. It seemed as if nobody could help +admiring him, and nobody did help it, except a great, hulking chap in +abominable clothes, with a khaki-coloured handkerchief round his neck +instead of a collar. This beast--in a sat-on-looking cap, enough to +disgrace a commercial traveller, sleeves as much too short for his +red-brown wrists as were the trousers for his strapping ankles--strode +to and fro along the deck as if for a wager. It was almost as if he +flaunted himself in defiance of someone or something. Yet he didn't +appear self-conscious. He had in his yellow-grey eyes that +bored-with-humanity look of a lion in a zoo, who gazes past crowds to +the one vision he desires--the desert. Only, now and then as he passed +the chair of Lord Severance, his look came back for an instant from the +desert, or waste of waves, to shoot scorn at a pair of well-shod feet +crossed on a black fur rug. This would hardly indicate any emotion +higher than jealousy, it seemed, as the boots of Major Lord Severance +were perfect, and his own were vile. + +When Severance had restlessly occupied his chair for fifteen minutes he +suddenly sprang up. A maid, unmistakably French, was squeezing a load of +rugs through a doorway. Severance ignored the offered service of a deck +steward, as if the rugs were too sacred for human hands to touch. With a +kind smile he himself helped the woman in black to spread the soft, +furry folds over the two neighbouring chairs. + +"It's like a scene on the stage in a play written for her," said one +American Red Cross nurse to another. "The hero of the piece and the maid +working up the woman star's entrance." + +"Which is he, more like hero or villain?" the second nurse reflected +aloud. "If I wrote him into a play, he'd be the villain--that dark type +with red lips and a little black moustache. But the Sorel's a star all +right. We ought to tune up and whistle a bar of entrance music! See how +the French maid puts the brown rug on one chair and the blue rugs on the +other. What'll you bet Sorel and her mother aren't dressed one in blue +and one in brown? Gee! The biggest blue rug's lined with chinchilla. Can +you beat it?" + +Neither nurse could beat it, but the approaching vision could. She beat +it with a long cloak of even more silvery chinchilla. + +At the door she stood aside for an older, shorter, plumper woman to +pass, she herself being very tall and exquisitely slender. She did not +seem to look at anyone, or be aware that anyone looked at her. +Nevertheless, all eyes were focussed upon the standing figure in the +chinchilla coat and blue toque while the lady in brown and sables was +being seated. Even Lord Severance had eyes only for the girl as he lent +his hands to her maid to tuck in the brown rugs. But the girl's smile +was for her mother, and it was not till Mrs. Sorel was settled that she +moved. A charming little scene of daughterly devotion, worthy a +paragraph if there were a journalist in sight! + +Just as Severance, with an air of absorption, wrapped Miss Sorel's grey +suède shoes in her chinchilla-lined rug, the giant in the ghastly +clothes hurled himself past. The girl did not lift her lashes, so famous +for their length and curl. She was hanging a gold-mesh bag on the arm of +her chair. You would say that she had not noticed the fellow. But the +fellow had noticed her. + +The distant-desert look died. In his eyes a flame lit, and flashed at +the girl in the chair. It was a light that literally spoke. It said +"God! You're a beauty." Then he flung one of his glances at Severance, +scornful or jealous as before. To do this he had not actually paused, +yet it was as if something had happened. Whatever the thing was, +Severance resented it in hot silence; and, in turn, his eyes did deadly +work. They stabbed the broad back of the badly-cut, badly-fitting coat +as its wearer forged away, hands deep in pockets. + +Miss Sorel sat between her mother and Lord Severance. She glanced at the +former as if to begin a conversation, but Mrs. Sorel had opened her +lorgnettes and a novel. The girl knew the signal: "Don't talk to me. +Talk to him." But she was lazy in obeying. She felt so sure of +Severance, that she needn't try to hold him by any tricks. She might now +treat him as she chose. Not that she had ever let him see that she was +anxious to please. But there _had_ been an anxious time. The girl didn't +want to talk, so she sat deliciously still, deliciously happy. She was +thinking. The restful peace of the sea after stormy days made her think +of herself. + +She often thought of herself; more, indeed, than of any other subject, +because, like most beautiful young actresses, she had been encouraged to +form the habit. But this was special--extra special. + +The girl was so content with her world that she shut herself in with it +by shutting her eyes. Then she faintly smiled in order that (just in +case they happened to look) people shouldn't suppose she was seasick. + +How odd that it should be her mother's lorgnettes which had reminded her +suddenly of her own good luck--the lorgnettes, and the delicate ringed +fingers grasping the tortoiseshell handle! + +Once that little hand had not been so white. There had been no leisure +for manicuring nails, and polishing them to the sheen of pink coral. +There had been no rings--no lorgnettes monogramed with rose diamonds. +That was before the "Marise" days; before clever Mums had linked +together in the French way her daughter's name of Mary Louise (after +father and mother) and begun training the girl into superlative beauty +and grace for the stage. Oh yes, Marise owed a lot to ambitious little +Mums! But at last she had been able to make generous payment for all the +trouble, all the sacrifices. She, Marise, had bought the lorgnettes, and +the sables, and the antique rings which Mums told everyone were +heirlooms in the Sorel family, bequeathed to a great-grandfather of +"poor dear Louis by a Countess Sorel beheaded in the Revolution." She, +Marise, had easily earned money for all the other lovely things they +both possessed. + +It was like a dream to remember how, three years ago, she had been just +a pretty "actorine" among other "actorines" in New York, struggling for +a chance to "show what she could really do," her heart jumping like a +fish at the sight of a Big Manager. Why, hadn't she literally squeaked +with joy when she got a contract for "fifty per"? And hadn't she soon +after nearly fallen dead when Dunstan Belloc let her understudy Elsa +Fortescue in "The Spring Song"? + +Of course, even at that time, she and Mums had both been sure she was +born to play "Dolores," and that Elsa _wasn't_. Belloc hadn't been so +sure. He had given her the part only because she looked irresistible +when she begged for it. Oh, and perhaps a little because her dead +father, Louis Sorel, had been an old friend of his. Marise had had to +"make good," and she had made good. + +Not that the girl had wished harm to Elsa Fortescue. But Elsa was a "Has +Been," whereas "Dolores" was supposed to be in the springtime of youth, +and possessed of an annihilating beauty--the beauty which draws men as +the moon draws the sea. Marise didn't think it conceited to face facts, +and admit that this description fitted her like a glove. These gifts had +brought her sensational success in a single night, whereas the piece had +simply "flivvered" with Elsa as star. The critics had been cold if not +cruel, and grief mixed with _grippe_ laid Elsa low. Then little Marise +Sorel (only figuratively "little," she being one of those willowy, +long-limbed nymphs who are the models and manikins of the moment), +"little Marise," in whom author and manager felt scant faith, had saved +the play and made herself. Both had boomed for a wonderful year, and at +the end of that time England had called for "Dolores" and "The Song." + +Oh, and those two years in London that followed! Never could another +girl have known anything like them since the days of the great +professional beauties whom crowds had mobbed in Hyde Park. Papers and +people had praised Miss Sorel's looks, her voice, and her talent. It was +thought quite amazing that a girl so lovely should take the trouble to +act well, but Marise explained to interviewers that she couldn't help +acting. It was in her blood to act--her father's blood. She didn't add +that ambition was in her mother's blood, and that Mums was doing all she +could to hand it on to the next generation. It wasn't necessary to +mention ambition to the public. Some people considered ambition more a +vice than a virtue. But Marise, who knew what poor Mums's past had been, +understood the passion and even felt the thrill of it. Not only had she +had the "time of her life" in those two years, but she had met people +whom she couldn't have approached before her blossoming as "Dolores" in +"The Spring Song." As "Dolores" she had been spoiled, fêted, adored; and +she had become rich. + +Now, here she was on the way back to dear New York to revive the play, +which Belloc, as manager, and Sheridan, as author, expected to surpass +its first success. At present Miss Sorel had the valued cachet of a +London triumph added to her charms. She was more _chic_, she could act +and sing better, than before. Isadora Duncan had coached her for the +dance in the last scene, as an act of generous friendship, and this had +given "The Song" a new fillip in London. It would be the same in New +York. + +As if this were not enough to satisfy an older "star" than she, there +was the wonderful way in which the affair of Tony Severance had +developed. He had strained every nerve to sail with her on the +_Britannia_. Heaven alone knew how he'd obtained or invented the +"mission" which had made his plan possible. It was entirely for her +sake, and everyone was coupling their names--in a nice, proper way, of +course. She was that kind of girl. And Mums was that kind of mother. +Even before Severance had come into the title, he had been splendidly +worth while on account of his looks, his position, and his "set," but +now it seemed to Marise that every unmarried woman in England and +America must be envying her. + +As she sipped the honey of these thoughts, the girl felt that Severance +was staring at her eyelashes, and willing her to lift them. But she +would not, just yet. She went on with her thinking. She asked herself if +her feeling for him were love? Of course, it wasn't the "Dolores" sort +of love for "David Hardcastle," but love like that was safer on the +stage than off. Marise admired Tony, and was very proud of her conquest, +though she would admit that to no one except Mums. She had been horribly +afraid, humiliatingly afraid for a few days, that he might change his +mind if not his heart, when the earldom fell into his hands like a +prize-package. If she'd not been sure before that Tony was the one man +for her, she was frantically sure after the great surprise, when he was +safely on board the _Britannia_. How pleased the cats would have been if +she'd lost him--the cats who pretended to think, in the days before he +was Lord Severance, that the honesty of his intentions depended upon her +money. + +They would see now--hateful, jealous things! For, as the Earl of +Severance, though not rich, Tony would be no longer poor, and he had +proved by sailing with her that life without Marise Sorel was worthless +to him. + +The cats would be sorry when she was the Countess of Severance, for +every nasty word they'd said. She would forgive, but she would never be +nice to them, of course. She would ask the creatures only to big, dull +parties, just to let them see what a _grande dame_ little Marise had +become. And even if she weren't certain that she'd rather be a Countess +than a stage star, Mums was certain for her--poor Mums, who had always +yearned to be at the top! And it would really be nice to "belong" among +the great people who had played with her for a while and made her their +pet. + +Marise opened her eyes. She did not, however, turn them to Severance. +She gazed at the one ring which adorned her left hand. She never wore +more than one ring at a time. This, and having all her jewels match each +other, her dress and her mood, was a fad of hers. Céline helped her +carry it out. But if Severance gave her a diamond, that would match +nothing, and spoil the scheme. + +"You have the longest lashes of any woman in the world," he remarked. + +"One would think you'd seen them all--all the women and all the +eyelashes!" She looked at him at last, and her soft, smoke-blue eyes +were the colour of her sapphire brooch and chain. + +"I've seen my share of fair ladies." + +"So I've heard." + +"You've probably heard a good deal that isn't true." Severance glanced +at Mrs. Sorel, or at what he could see of her, which was mostly book, +lorgnettes, and hand. She seemed absorbed. He leaned towards Marise. + +"The last three days have been a hundred years long," he murmured. + +"Why? Have you been seasick, poor boy?" + +"No!" (This was a slight deviation from the truth.) "I've been beastly +dull without you." + +"If you're such a good sailor, couldn't you walk, and read, and----" + +"I couldn't be bothered doing anything intelligent. I moped in my +cabin." ("Moped" was one word for what he had done.) "I----" + +"Oh, here comes Samson again!" Marise broke in. "Isn't that absolutely +the name for him? It jumped into my head when he passed before and gave +me that wild sort of look--did you notice?" + +"I did," said Severance drily. "I thought you didn't. Your eyes were +apparently glued to your gold bag." + +"What's the good of being an actress if you can't see two things at +once, especially if one of them's the biggest thing on the ship? Nobody +could help noticing that--any more than if Mont Blanc suddenly waltzed +down stage from off the back drop." + +"Waltzed? 'Galumped' is the word in this case." + +"Oh, do you think so?" Marise appealed. "He walks like a man used to +wide, free spaces." + +"Like a farmer, you mean. To my mind, that's his part: Hodge--not +Samson." + +"I've forgotten what Samson was, I'm ashamed to say, before he played +opposite Delilah," confessed Marise. "I suppose he was a warrior--most +men were in those days--as now. This might be one--if it weren't for the +clothes. They certainly are the limit! But do you know, he could be very +distinguished-looking, even handsome, decently turned out?" + +"No, I don't know it, my child." Severance beat down his irritation. +"The only way I can picture that ugly blighter being decently 'turned +out,' is out of a respectable club." + +"You talk as if you had a grudge against my provincial Samson," laughed +Marise, whose blue eyes had followed the "blighter" along the deck to +the point of disappearance. + +"I don't want to talk about him at all," protested Severance. "I want to +talk about you." + +"We're always talking about me!" smiled Marise, who was honestly not +aware how she enjoyed talking about herself, or how soon she tired of +most other subjects. "If you won't talk of one man, let's talk of +another! For instance, have you seen our V.C. passenger?" + +Severance flushed slightly. "Didn't I tell you, angel girl, that I've +been in my cabin the whole time?" + +"You didn't say the 'whole' time. And anyhow, there's such a crowd on +board, they might have stuck a fellow-soldier in with you at the last +moment. Didn't they warn you that they couldn't promise a cabin to +yourself? Naturally they'd have chosen a V.C. as the least insupportable +person." + +"Several V.C.'s I've met have been most insupportable persons," grumbled +Severance. + +Something in his tone made the girl suddenly face him with wide-open +eyes. She saw the dusky stain of red under the olive skin, and the +drawing down of the black brows. "Why, Tony, how stupid of me not to +remember before!" she exclaimed. + +There! It had come--the thing that was bound to come sooner or later. +Severance, rawly sensitive on this subject which the girl refused to +drop, had wanted it to be later. + +For the first time he thought that Marise Sorel was more obstinate than +a beautiful young woman ought to be. In a man he would call such +persistence mulish. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +EXIT THE BLIGHTER + + +"Stupid not to remember what?" Severance still temporised, though he +knew the answer. + +"Not to remember that man named Garth, in your regiment, who was +promoted from a private to be an officer, and won the V.C. I think it +was Mums who asked you about him one day, when she'd read something in +the _Daily Mail_, and you said he was a cad. Is this by any chance the +same Garth?" + +"By evil chance, it is." + +Marise was interested. She was dramatic, and liked coincidences. Mrs. +Sorel was interested too, with that part of her mind--the principal +part--which was not reading Wells's _Joan and Peter_. It was quite easy, +for two reasons, to unhook her attention from the book. One reason was +that as a chaperon she was reading by discretion, not inclination. The +other reason was, if she had to read at all, she would secretly have +preferred a "smart society" novel. But when she read in public she +always selected a book which could be talked about intellectually. + +She knew how strong this feeling of Lord Severance against the +regimental hero had been, and she wished that Marise would show a little +tact, and not vex him. He had not proposed yet! + +But Marise went on. "How quaint that your Major Garth should be on board +our ship!" + +"For Heaven's sake, don't call him my Major Garth, dear girl! I loathe +the brute." + +"But why, old thing? You might tell me why." + +"I did, at the time your mother mentioned him." + +"If you did, I've forgotten. Do tell me again. It sounds exciting." + +Mary Sorel thought that intervention would now be more useful than +detachment. + +"You two are talking so loudly, I can't read!" she sweetly reproved the +pair. "I caught the name of Garth, and the whole conversation we had +that day, about him, came back to me. We were lunching with Lord +Severance at the Carlton, and I showed him a paragraph I'd clipped from +the _Daily Mail_. I thought as it was about his regiment he might be +interested if he hadn't seen it. It was headed 'Romantic Career of a +Hero. British-born American Wins the Victoria Cross.' But he wasn't +interested, because he explained that the man was a blot on the Brigade; +very common, not a gentleman." + +"Yes, it comes back to me, too," said Marise. "But if he was a hero----" + +"That's all newspaper tosh!" cut in Severance. "They must have headings! +It's luck more than heroism that gets a chap the Victoria Cross. +Soldiers all know that. Otherwise----" + +His lips said no more. Only his eyes were eloquent. The beautiful +lavender-grey overcoat hid no ribbon-symbols of decorations on his +breast. But how can a staff officer find the chance his soul yearns for, +to show his mettle--except the metal on his expensive "brass hat"? + +"Of course!" Mrs. Sorel breathed sympathetically. + +"Garth was all right as a private, I dare say," Severance grudged. "Even +as an officer he might have passed in some regiments. But not in the +Guards. He ought never to have been let come in. And he ought certainly +not to have stayed in, knowing how we felt. If he'd had any proper +pride, he wouldn't have stopped a day." + +"Perhaps it was pride made him stick," suggested Marise, led on somehow +she hardly knew why--to defend the culprit. + +"'Proper' pride was my word," Severance reminded her. + +"Extraordinary that an American should be serving with the Guards, in +the first place!" Mary Sorel flung herself into the breach, hoping to +stop the argument. Arguments made her anxious. She thought that they led +to quarrels. And not for anything on earth would she have Marise quarrel +with Severance, the only earl who had ever shown symptoms of proposing. +It had been well enough for the girl to pique him when he was a handsome +young man about town, whose good position was counterbalanced by the +star's financial and face value. But since six weeks Severance had +become a great catch. Other girls were digging bait in case the fish +should wriggle, or be coaxed, off Marise Sorel's hook. + +"The fellow's luck again!" growled Severance. "I don't know what his job +was in his own country. I don't interest myself in the private life of +the lower classes. All I know is, he wasn't a soldier; but he had some +bee in his bonnet about a future war, and a theory that there'd be +trench fighting on a big scale. He contrived to invent and patent a +motor entrenching tool, supposed to act fifty times quicker than +anything else ever seen. Then he proceeded to experiment on his +back-woods farm, or his wild west ranch, or whatever it was. Washington +wasn't 'taking any,' however (isn't that what you say in the States?), +so Garth decided to try it on the British bulldog. Where his big stroke +of luck came in was meeting our old C.O. on board ship crossing to +England. The Colonel had been in New York with his American wife. He +probably heard the blighter brag of his invention, and that would catch +him as toasted cheese in a trap catches a hungry rat. You see, the old +boy always had a craze of his own about trench warfare, and I believe he +used to bore the W.O. stiff, roaring for some such machine as this chap +Garth invented. Naturally, Pobbles (that's what we call the C.O. behind +his back)--Lord Pobblebrook, you know--took the man up. Not socially, of +course. Garth's about on a social level with Lady Pobblebrook's +foot-man, I should think. But he got the W.O. to look at the trench +tool, and--as if that wasn't luck enough for the bounder!--the war broke +out. The W.O. bought Garth's invention, as you saw in the _Mail_, and +paid about tuppence for it, I suppose. He had a fancy to enlist in the +British Army--feared the U.S.A. would be a bit late coming in, perhaps. +I never heard of any American dropping into the Guards before, even as a +Tommy, but it must have been easy enough with a push from Pobbles, +especially as the chap's people had been English, I believe. If it +hadn't been for Pobbles, Garth would certainly not have got a +commission. Anyhow not with us." + +"Oh, you Guardsmen think you're gods!" the girl teased him. + +"Not gallery gods, in any case," Severance caught her up. "That's why we +don't want that sort in our mess and clubs. Most regiments have had to +put up with a mixture of these 'temporary gentlemen,' but not Ours. +Besides, 'temporary' and 'permanent' are different words. The +'temporary' kind can't be permanent, don't you see? For their own sakes, +they ought to step down and out when they cease to be useful, because +they never can be ornamental. We of the Brigade have a good deal to live +up to, you must admit. I assure you, I'm not the only one who hasn't +exactly encouraged Garth to wear out his welcome." + +"How about the Colonel?" Marise inquired. + +"Oh, Pobbles. He doesn't count in this scrap. He's practically never in +the mess, so the bad manners and bad boots of a cad don't interfere with +his digestion. Besides, he was responsible for landing us with the +fellow. I don't suppose he ever dreamed for a moment that a man of that +type would dare--or wish--to stay on as an officer of the regiment after +the war. But there it is! To save his own face the C.O. could hardly +give Garth the cold shoulder. Pobbles whitewashed himself by extolling +the swine as a soldier, and quoting such stuff as 'hearts are more than +coronets,' and so on." + +"Aren't they?" murmured Marise. + +"Oh, of course, in the way you mean. But not in the mess of a Guards +regiment." + +"I see," said the girl, with a blue twinkle beneath the admired lashes. +For some reason it amused her to wave a red flag, and play with the +lordly Severance as with a baited bull, under her mother's cautioning +glances. It was just a mood. Marise wasn't even sure that she did not +agree with Tony; and she was certain that Mums agreed. No lady possessed +of ancestral jewels, handed down from beheaded aristocrats, could afford +to hide the smallest coronet under the biggest bushel of hearts, in a +mess, or a drawing-room, or anywhere! Poor Mums, she was being baited, +too! But it was rather fun. And it could do no harm, since Marise +counted Tony her own forever. + +"So all of you younger officers have been doing your best to squeeze my +poor countryman out?" she ventured on. + +"Not because he's a countryman of yours. You must understand that! +Because he's impossible. And for the honour of the regiment. I'm sorry +to say, though, that we weren't unanimous in the matter. There have been +two or three--er--not rows, but something in that line, a few men +inclining to let Garth 'dree his own weird,' and learn for himself that +he's a square peg in a round hole. But Billy Ravenswood and Cecil de +Marchand and I took a firm stand." + +"I can see you taking it!" giggled Marise. "You took the firm stand on +one foot only, and kicked with the other! When you got tired of the +exercise, and had to sit down, you sat on Major Garth, V.C.--sat hard!" + +Severance laughed a little too, her giggle was so contagious. Besides, +at last, she did seem to be entering into the spirit of the game. +"Something of the sort," he admitted, not without pride in remembered +achievements. "The lot of an intruder among us isn't a happy one." + +"I should think not, if the rest are like you," said Marise. "I've seen +you perfectly horrid to quite inoffensive people you didn't happen to +approve of." + +"The person you force me to discuss, dear child, is the opposite of +inoffensive," amended Severance. "Can't we drop him?" + +"You seem to have done so successfully already," said she. "As he's on +this ship, homeward bound, the regiment is rid of him, isn't it?" + +"I'm not so sure. In fact, I'm not at all sure. He's in mufti, +certainly--to insult the good old word! But I understand he still +refuses to confess he's beaten, and is only on long leave." + +"Oh, he's in mufti! But you'll point him out, if he comes on deck, won't +you, boy? After all this talk, I pine to see what he's like. If he +passes by----" + +"Thank Heaven, he has passed by. He's gone inside, and we're rid of him +for the moment." + +"Tony, you don't mean--you can't!" + +"What?" + +"Samson?" + +"Why, yes. Didn't you realise that? Now perhaps you'll understand why we +don't want this particular Samson pulling down the pillars of our +temples." + +"He may have heard what we said! He was walking back and forth part of +the time as we talked." + +"Who cares if he did hear? It would do him good--be a douche to cool his +conceit." + +At that instant the back of Severance's head was coldly douched. +Something popped: something spurted. A jet of water sprayed over him, +fizzing with such force that it blew his gold-laced Guards' cap over his +eyes. + +Marise and her mother were petrified. They could only gasp. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A CABIN WINDOW + + +After the first dazed instant, the girl had a wild inclination to laugh. +She suppressed it with the explosive struggle of suppressing a sneeze. +Poor, dear Tony! It would be cruel to make fun of him, more cruel than +if the top of his head had been blown off! For him--especially at this +moment of his high boasting--it was tragic to be made ridiculous. But it +was funny--frightfully funny--to see his expression of stunned rage at +the accident, as he dried his face and hair with a faintly fragrant, +monogramed handkerchief, and wiped something fizzing out of his eyes. + +Of course it--whatever it was--must have been an accident. Yet it was +odd, or perhaps merely fortunate, that all the liquid had spurted over +Severance, not a drop spattering the girl's blue toque. That thought +darted through the mind of Marise, and prompted a quick turn of the +head. At the open stateroom window behind the deck chairs stood someone +whose face she could not see. In fact, the presence of this person was +indicated only by a ginger-beer bottle still pointing, pistol-like, at +Lord Severance's back. The bottle was almost empty, its contents having +been discharged in one rush, and a mere inoffensive froth now dribbled +over the window-sill. This vision told at a glance what had occurred. +The glass ball inside the mouth of the bottle had been pushed with too +great violence. But why, why, had the experiment been made at the +window? Was it the act of a stupid steward, or---- + +An answer to the question flashed into the girl's brain, and again it +was all she could do to control a shriek of laughter. (She had an +inconvenient sense of humour, inherited from Louis Sorel, and earnestly +discouraged by her mother.) What if--but no! The creature wouldn't dare. +Or would he? + +"Sorry!" said a voice. "Accident, I assure you. Hope the lady wasn't +touched." + +With this, Marise knew that the creature had dared. Though she had never +heard the "blighter" speak, she was as certain of his identity as of her +own. That, then, was his stateroom window. He had disappeared from the +deck intending to do the thing, and he had done it. From his own point +of view he had done it with deadly skill, and she was sure he knew +without asking that "the lady" had not been "touched." Of course, he had +heard what Severance said, and this was his revenge for past and present +insults. It was, no doubt, the deed of a cad, or a mischievous +schoolboy, but arriving on top of Severance's last words, thus douching +the doucher, it was so neat that it hit the girl's sense of drama as the +beer had hit the "brass hat." + +She wanted to say, "No, I wasn't touched, thank you." But Severance +would never forgive her for bandying words with the bounder. She +expected Tony to speak--to say something, if only a "Damn you!" which +would have been almost excusable even in the presence of ladies. But to +her surprise he left the disguised defiance unanswered. + +"Disgusting!" he exclaimed impersonally. "Creatures like that ought to +be caged. I'm afraid I must retire for repairs. But I'll be back in a +few minutes. You won't go away, will you?" + +"No, indeed," Mary Sorel assured him. "What a shocking shame. Poor Lord +Severance! But how much worse if it had been ale or stout! Think of the +horrid odour--and the stains on your beautiful coat!" + +"It would have been ale or stout if the ship wasn't 'dry' on account of +a few returning soldiers!" said Severance with extreme bitterness, as he +got up. "I wonder it wasn't ink. Only ink doesn't spurt." + +He crushed his wet cap over his wet hair, and went off, mumbling like +distant thunder. Behind the chairs, the beer-bottle window slid shut, +but Marise fancied she heard through the thick stained glass a wild +chortle of joy. + +Mrs. Sorel closed her book, with the lorgnettes to mark her page, and +leaned across Tony's empty chair. + +"Marise, you laughed!" she reproved her daughter. "How could you?" + +"I didn't, I only boo-higgled in my throat." + +"I wish you'd be more careful," cautioned the elder woman. "If you're +not, take it from me, you may be sorry yet. Tony is worried about +something. I noticed it the moment we came on board. You know what an +instinct I have! I feel as if--but I mustn't tell you now. He may get to +his stateroom and hear us." + +"What makes you think he could hear us from his stateroom?" asked +Marise. "Do you know where it is?" + +"Why, yes," replied the other. "I was with him when he chose the place +for our chairs. You were in our cabin showing Céline what to unpack. He +pointed out his window, and--but my goodness!" + +A gasp stopped her words. Marise followed the direction of the puzzled +or startled brown eyes. They stared at the window just closed, from +whose sill ginger-beer continued to drip. + +"Is that his room?" breathed the girl. + +"I thought that was the window, but I must be mistaken, of course. +Probably it's the next one--on my side or yours." + +Marise let the question drop. She wasn't pining to confide the contents +of her mind. Besides, her conjectures were too vague for words. In +striving to frame them she would surely laugh, and Mums would think her +a callous wretch. + +Mrs. Sorel, anxious to be overheard saying the right thing, if she were +overheard at all, began to chat about friends who had sent flowers or +telegrams on board. Each name she mentioned had a "handle." She liked +Lord Severance to be reminded casually now and then that her girl had +titled admirers outside the circle he had brought round them. But Marise +was not listening. She was putting two and two together. + +When she suggested that the V.C. had been billeted in Tony's cabin, Tony +had said neither "yes" nor "no," now she came to think of it. He had +caught at another branch of the subject which she elected to pursue. He +hadn't wanted her to know that the loathed Major Garth was his +room-mate. Why? Oh, he would feel it humiliating to his _amour propre_. +He had wished to buy a cabin for himself alone, and had been told that +it was too late: "the company would do their best, but could not +promise." Then, fate and the company's good intentions had picked out +the one companion he would least have chosen. + +It was almost too queer, and too bad, to be true; yet the more she +thought of it the truer it seemed. Her mother's impression about the +window--and the lack of surprise Severance had shown after the +"accident." Once recovered from the shock, he wore an air of having got +what might have been expected. He hadn't even looked over his wet +shoulder to glare at the sniper. Oh, Marise saw it all now! Tony had +made his last remarks for the benefit of the _bête noire_, believing he +had gone to the mutual cabin, but not dreaming how far a bounder, in +bounding, might bound for revenge. She would have given a good deal to +know whether Severance had now joined his room-mate in their quarters, +and if so, what was going on. + +In a hand-to-hand fight Severance would be apt to get second best with +Samson, unless skill should master strength. Was that why he had flung +back no challenge? But, of course, it couldn't be; Tony was not a +coward. He had merely kept his temper to save a scene. Nevertheless, she +wished that Garth hadn't shut the window! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +REPRISALS--ET CETERA + + +Jorn Garth considered himself completely justified in shooting Severance +with a pint of iced ginger-beer, and even had his conscience squirmed he +would have committed the act. Knowing that Severance thought of, and +denounced, him as "a bounder," he didn't see why, when worst came to +worst, he shouldn't live up to the reputation. + +Worst had come to worst on board the _Britannia_. Things had been bad +enough before, but the climax was reached when the two men found +themselves caged in the same room, neither one willing to play lamb to +the other's lion. Garth hated the proximity as hotly as Severance hated +it; but there was no cabin of any class with a free berth, save one +occupied by a coloured colonel in charge of negro troops going home. +Garth had a deep respect for the dark soldiers, who had distinguished +themselves in the war; but men of white and men of black skin were not +quartered together; and he had never boiled to throttle Severance as he +boiled at the cool proposal that he should join Colonel Dookey. + +"Join him yourself," he said. + +"I'm not an American," shrugged Severance. + +"That's why you and he would get along better than you and me, or he and +me," retorted Garth, careless of grammar. + +"I shall remain where I am," Severance gave his ultimatum. + +"Same here. You ought to be thankful your earlship has got the lower +berth." + +This statement required no answer; and the conversation lapsed. + +Garth had not taken his allotted seat at the Captain's table, because he +understood that ladies would be there, friends of Lord Severance. He +could not trust his temper if it were strained by continued public +snubbing in the presence of women. Besides, secretly shy of the +dangerous sex, the man who had won the V.C. shrank like a coward from +the prospect of being "turned down" by aristocratic females. He +preferred to snatch picnic meals in the hot smoke-room or to munch a +sandwich on the wind-swept deck, having this one advantage of the enemy: +he was a good sailor. + +Seeing Severance seasick had "given him back a bit of his own," and made +up for a good deal, including close quarters. Because a man can't hit a +foe when he's down, however, Garth had let slip a heaven-sent chance for +revenge. He refrained from jeering aloud at his brother officer's +qualms. But was the said officer grateful for the superhuman sacrifice? +On the contrary! To-day's work on deck was the climax. Garth had heard +and seen Severance sneering at him, as he had sneered before. Sneering +to men was one thing, however; sneering to the most beautiful girl Garth +had ever seen was another. + +Severance's attempt to drive Garth from the regiment by rendering the +mess impossible, and by other methods which in contrast made schoolboy +ragging kind, had only stiffened the American's resolve to "stick it." +Failing the stings and pin-pricks inflicted by Severance as ringleader, +and two or three of his followers, Garth would not have desired to stay +in the British Army after the war, although his father had been an +officer in it. As it was, though he hadn't yet settled the future, he +inclined to hold his commission for awhile, if only to "show those chaps +they couldn't phaze him." He had felt bulldoggy rather than wild +bullish. But catching a word or two blown to his ears by the wind on +deck to-day, he had at the same time caught fire. Here was the limit, +and down the other side! He burned to prove this to Severance in some +way slightly more delicate than murder. In such a mood he slammed into +their cabin, and heard a little more. Still flaming, he saw the +ginger-beer bottle (by an irony of fate, Severance's bottle), and then, +almost before he knew what he was doing, the thing was done. A caddish +but a luscious thing! He gloried in it. As he stood at the stateroom +window, the emptied weapon fizzing in his hand, it struck Garth that he +had hit the nail on the head. + +"That's it," he said to himself, as he watched Severance furiously sop +his hair. "I've hit the nail on the head!" + +Never had he been more pleased with the precision of his aim, for not a +drop had gone wide of the target. He had counted on his skill to make a +bull's-eye or he would not have risked the coup. Of course, Severance's +friends would loathe as well as despise him; but they must admit that +the reprisal was pat, and above all neat. He shut the window and roared. +He hoped the trio outside would hear him, and he yearned to know what +Severance's next step would be. + +For this knowledge he had not long to wait; but when it came, it brought +disillusion. Severance arrived promptly, still dripping, to find Garth +at bay, a grin on his face. + +"Your beer," said V.C. "I'll pay you for it." + +He expected the other to shout "You shall!" and spring at him. Severance +seemed to think, however, that the dignified course was cold silence. +"Registering" scorn too glacial for language or even action, he gazed at +Garth as if the latter were a worm of some new and abominable species +unknown to science and beneath classification. This effect produced, he +turned to the mirror and repaired ravages to his hair with "Honey and +Flowers." The moment he was his well-groomed self again, he went out, +having uttered not one word. + +"Well, I'm damned!" remarked Garth aloud. He then laughed, also aloud. +But there was a flat sound in his mirth. He felt like a good hot fire +quenched by a shovelful of snow, and was not sure whether he or +Severance had scored. Vaguely at a loss, like a stray dog, he took a +book to the smoking room, having no ambition to parade the deck +cock-o'-the-walk fashion. It turned out, however, that he could not +read. He could do nothing but think of that girl--that beautiful, +beautiful girl. + +Every man grows up with some ideal, bright or dim, of the woman whose +beauty might mean to him all romance: the woman of the horizon, of the +sunrise, of the bright foam of sea-waves. The girl on A deck of the +_Britannia_ was Garth's ideal, his "Princess of Paradise." + +He didn't know who she was, but he meant to know. Not that it would do +him any good to find out. She was a friend of Severance, which meant +that there was a high wall round her so far as he, Garth, was concerned. +All the same, he wouldn't let much grass grow--or many waves +break--under his feet before he was in possession of her name. This was +about all he was ever likely to have of hers! But so much he would have, +soon. + +Presently a steward brought matches for his pipe. "Can you tell me," +Garth inquired, "who are the ladies sitting amidships on the port side +of this deck; a young lady in a blue hat, with a grey fur coat, and an +older woman in brown? They look as they'd be someone in particular?" + +"They are, sir," replied the man quite eagerly. "You must mean Miss +Sorel and her mother; they're with the Earl of Severance." + +"That's right," said Garth. "I wonder, are they the ones at the +Captain's table." + +"Certain to be, sir," the steward assured him. + +Garth lit his pipe, and let the steward go without further questioning. +He yearned to ask who the Sorels were, and why it was so certain they +would be in the place of honour at the Captain's table--where he might +have been, and was not! But somehow, the thought of pumping a steward +for intimate details about that girl repelled him. He supposed she was +"some swell" in Severance's set. Not since he had enlisted in the +Grenadier Guards, nearly five years ago, had he taken leave in London. +He had been eight times a "casualty," but by luck, or ill-luck, his +wounds had not been "Blighty-wounds." His last leave he had spent in +Paris, and the second--one summer--in Yorkshire and Scotland, because +his father had been a Yorkshireman by birth. + +If Garth had ever heard of Marise Sorel's success in New York and +London, the story had gone in at one ear and out at the other. It did +not occur to him that the Radiant Dream might be an actress. But her +face haunted him, got between his eyes and his book and made his pipe go +out, as sunlight is supposed to extinguish a fire. + +He had rather prided himself on these old clothes of his, on shipboard. +They were full five years of age, had been bought ready-made at +Albuquerque, Arizona, for twenty dollars, and were damned comfortable. +Now, to his shamed surprise, he found himself wishing he had kept to +khaki, as he had a right to do. Severance had called him a +"clod-hopper," and he knew the word fitted him in that suit, a blamed +sight better than did the suit itself! + +Well, it wasn't too late yet. He could doll up in his uniform any +minute; he could even claim his place at the Captain's table, and meet +the Girl. His heart beat at the thought. He made up his mind he would do +just that; and then as quickly he changed it. + +No, he might be a bounder, but he wouldn't be a cross between an ass and +a peacock. He'd go on as he'd begun. If there were a laugh anywhere at +present, it was against Severance. He would do nothing to turn it +against Garth. + +This resolution he clung to, despite occasional wobblings, for the rest +of the voyage. + + * * * * * + +Garth had not a "blood relation" on earth, as far as he knew; but he had +an adopted mother, and he had friends. These people lived mostly in the +West. He meant to see a little life in New York before going out there, +but he did not expect a soul in the east to notice his existence. It was +a surprise for him when all the reporters who swarmed on board the +_Britannia_ from the tender made a bee-line for Major Garth, V.C. Each +wanted a "story," and Garth didn't know what to say. He was too glad to +see the shores of his adopted land, and too good-natured to snub the +humblest, but he didn't enjoy being interviewed. He got out of the +scrape as soon as he could; but there was another surprise awaiting him +on deck. He found himself a hero to the Custom House men! + +There was no chance of finding out what had become of Miss Sorel, but as +the reporters had rallied round her, and Lord Severance also, Garth was +reasonably sure to read later on who the girl was; where she was going; +whether or no she were engaged to his noble brother officer; and, +indeed, even many more picturesque facts than she knew about herself. + +It was after two o'clock when he arrived at the Hotel Belmore, where he +had stayed five years ago on the eve of sailing for England with his +invention. He was hungry, and aimed straight for the restaurant; but it +appeared that the manager had assigned to the only American V.C. a suite +with a private salon as well as bedroom and bath. A special luncheon for +the Major would be served there, with the compliments of the directors. +Garth could only accept with dazed thanks; and feeling like a +newly-awakened "Christopher Sly," he entered a room decorated with +flowers and flags. As he devoured delicious food, the New York evening +papers were handed to him by a smiling waiter who had read the headings. + +Yes, there he was, served up hot to the public with sauce piquante! Lord +knew how the fellows had got his photograph! Must be from some snapshot +caught by a _Daily Mirror_ man in London, and sent over to New York for +use to-day. What a great lout he looked!... And--gee! if there wasn't +old Severance in another photo down under his. Wouldn't his earlship be +wild? + +Garth chuckled, and then suddenly choked. A gulp of the champagne, in +which he'd been pressed to drink to his own health, had gone the wrong +way. _Her_ picture had caught his eye, in an adjoining column of the +_Evening World_, next to the portrait of Severance. "Our Own Marise +Comes Home," was the legend in big black type above. Oh! She was +American, not English! Must be an heiress if that chap intended to marry +her. Severance was supposed to be poor, for a peer; had been a pauper +till the death of an uncle and three cousins in the war gave him the +title.... What? an actress! Then, it wasn't true about her and +Severance--couldn't be true! That glorious girl was free! And, to judge +from the way New York was treating him, John Garth, V.C., was Somebody, +too. He was put above Miss Sorel's pal Severance in the papers--every +one of the papers! + +Eagerly Garth read about "The Spring Song" and "Dolores," the great +emotional part Marise Sorel had created, and was now to revive in New +York. It did not directly interest him that the whole of the old cast +would support the star, but it did matter that this fact reduced the +need for rehearsals to a minimum. The play would open at Belloc's +Theatre next week, and it was announced that for many days the house had +been entirely sold out. There wasn't a seat to be had for love or money. +"But I bet I get one for both!" Garth said to himself. "A seat for every +performance." Also he thought of something else he would do. The thing +might not help him to make Miss Sorel's acquaintance, but it would +satisfy his soul. And it would be worth all his back pay as a British +officer if he could carry out the plan. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ANONYMOUS + + +"Oh, Mums, I'm so happy!" purred Marise, as she sank into a chair, +physically spent, spiritually elated. + +It was in her dressing-room at the theatre--the marvellous dressing-room +which Belloc had engaged Herté to re-decorate as a tribute and a +surprise to the star. The stage curtain had rung down on the last act, +after eighteen recalls and a little laughing, hysterical speech from +Dolores. Sheridan and Belloc had both kissed her; and everyone had +cried, and her mother had torn her from clinging arms, to shut the +dressing-room door upon a dozen faces. + +Sudden peace followed clamour. There was not a sound. The air was sweet +with the breath of a thousand flowers. Céline moved softly about, with +stolid face. Mrs. Sorel beamed. + +"Well, yes, dear; I do think you may be happy now," she vouchsafed. + +Marise caught the "second meaning"--the little more than met the +ear--hiding in her mother's words. Mums hadn't been easy about +Severance. She'd thought he had "something on his mind." She had even +been afraid that, although he was following the girl he loved from +London to New York, he didn't mean marriage. She had feared, and almost +expected, that he might break to Marise the news of his engagement to +another woman--a very different woman from the pretty actress. But that +time of Mum's depression had been on shipboard. Severance had "broken" +no news. He had been more devoted than ever before. He had curtailed his +official business in Washington, and rushed back to New York for the +first night of "The Song," so now Mrs. Sorel began to hope that for once +her "instinct" had been a deceiving Voice. + +"Yes, happy about everything," she added, so that Marise might +understand without the maid sharing her enlightenment. + +"I am, just that!" agreed Marise, stealing time to breathe before Céline +should take off Dolores' "bedroom-scene" dress. + +She looked round the room. It had been decorated by the Russian-French +artist, Herté (who had never seen her), to suit Sargent's portrait which +Belloc had lent him to study. In the girl's opinion it did not suit her +at all, unless she were in reality a tigress camouflaged to represent a +sheaf of lilies. But evidently that was what Herté thought she was, and +his conception of her temperament made the girl feel subtle and +mysterious. She adored feeling like that, and she adored Herté's tawny +orange splashes on violent blues, and his sombre blacks and dazzling +whites and lemon yellows, which somehow did not fade her sunlight +fairness. People knew about this room, for descriptions and photographs +of it had appeared in all the papers since she and Mums landed; +consequently everyone had sent flowers to match Herté's famous +colourings. + +There were silver azaleas, black tulips, queer scarlet roses, Japanese +tiger lilies, weird magenta orchids, and purple pinks. Severance had +sent blue lilies--the blue that Marise loved, and called "the colour of +her soul." The lilies had been the best of the huge collection, until +the Exciting Thing came--the thing accompanied by no letter, no card. +Towards this object the eyes of Marise travelled. She had been +"intrigued" by it the whole evening, whenever she had time to think, and +puzzle over its charm and mystery. + +"It" was a table; a small, round tea-table of rich red mahogany with a +well in its centre for flowers, and small holes in a line circling its +edge for the same purpose. These receptacles were filled and hidden with +the largest, purplest, and most fragrant violets Marise had ever seen, +and their amethyst tones, massed against the dark, rose-brown wood, +produced an exquisite effect. Marise believed herself an up-to-date +young woman, and her Persian dressing-room in London had rivalled Lily +Brayton's Chinese room during the run of "Chu Chin Chow." But she had +never heard of such a design as this in tables. It must be the newest of +the new, and invented by a great artist, she thought. In fear of seeming +ignorant, she had asked no questions of anyone, hoping to glean +information by luck: and vanity, as usual with her, had its own reward. + +"By George, who sent you Herté's latest?" Belloc had exclaimed, when he +bounced into her room before the first act to see if his star were +"going strong." + +Marise had to admit that she didn't know. But she put on an air of +awareness as to Herté. This was the sort of thing her mother taught her: +to seem innocent, but never ignorant--especially of anything "smart." +Mrs. Sorel had suggested that Herté himself might have contributed the +lovely specimen of his work, to complete the decoration of the room. +Belloc, however, had vetoed this idea. If there were no accompanying +poem, or at least a card, Herté wasn't guilty. He was not a young man +who bothered to blush unseen. So that hypothesis was "off"; and Marise +could think of no one among her acquaintances likely to spend so much +cash without getting credit. + +Belloc was giving a supper for her after the theatre, and Herté was +there; a dark, haggardly beautiful young man who looked as if he had +detached himself from one of his own wall decorations. Belloc had placed +him next the star, not knowing whether Marise were really engaged to +Lord Severance or not; and the first question the girl asked was about +the table. + +"Ah, you have my beloved violet-table!" he said, looking at her in the +way he had with beautiful young women: stripping her with his eyes and +dressing her all over again in a gown of his own creation. "I am +glad--glad." + +"You didn't know?" + +He shook his head until a black lock fell over his pale forehead. "I did +not. It was finished by the glorified cabinet-maker I employ: it +appeared in the window of my place. You must see my place, now your +rehearsals are over! You will want beauty to rest your mind--and you +will want Me to design your dresses! An hour later the table was snapped +up--gone from me forever." + +"Ah, but who snapped it?" + +Herté looked blank. "Your admiring friend, who knew it belonged, by +right of beauty, to you." + +"Thanks! But I want you to tell me his--or her--name." + +"Are you not acquainted with so much of him?" + +"I'm not. And I'm dying to be, because the gentleman is anonymous--a +great unknown!" + +"I am sure he is great, as a judge of art and ladies. But that is all I +am sure of, beautiful Dolores." + +"Monsieur Herté, you are hiding his secret!" + +"I could hide no secret from you. I will tell you all I know. A boy +messenger bought the table. A millionaire's boy messenger, perhaps! My +manager informed me what had happened. We guessed at once there was a +mystery." + +"Couldn't you find out?" Marise persisted. + +Herté shrugged his sloping shoulders. "Beyond a boy messenger no man can +go. He keeps the gate with a flaming sword. But you will find out some +day. Meanwhile, be content. You have the latest creation of my brain--of +my heart. At present it is the one thing of its kind in existence." + +Mrs. Sorel asked Severance if he had sent the table, which, she +explained, Marise had found in her dressing-room on arriving there. It +had been brought to the theatre by two boy messengers, full of flowers +(not the boys, but the table), and no word had been left whence it came. +Severance, bitterly jealous of the secret gift (which had, so to speak, +taken all the blue paint off his Persian lilies), would gladly have +claimed credit had he dared. But the real giver might announce himself +at any moment, and be able to prove his _bona fides_: so Severance made +a virtue of necessity. Belloc's supper-party was a "frost" for him, +though he sat by the second prettiest girl. He hated Herté and the +others, especially a millionaire member of New York's "Four Hundred," +who was financially interested in Belloc's schemes--and in his leading +ladies. + +Severance would have given anything--short of his title and estates, and +such money as came with them--to snatch the girl from all the men, who +would go on admiring and making love to her when he was far away. He did +not know how he could bear to turn his back and leave her to these +Americans, who had so much money and so much "cheek." He felt as if he +were throwing her to the lions--this exquisite morsel which he coveted +for himself, but was unlikely to get on the terms he could offer. +Almost, he wished that he had told her the truth in London, and said +good-bye to her then. Almost, but not quite; for he simply had not been +able to let her go like that. He had to be with her: he had to see the +sort of men she would gather round her on the other side of the world. + +Well, he had come; and he had seen; and he had made things harder for +himself instead of easier. He did not know what he should do next. An +arrangement, a compromise, must be thought of. When he spoke, he must +have something to propose--some alternative or other. But what under +heaven, or in hell, it could be, he had no clear inspiration yet. + +Marise ordered the violet-table to be taken from the theatre to the +Plaza Hotel, where she and her mother had a suite. She thought it would +give her more pleasure there, where much of her time was passed, and the +wonderful violets had not lost their freshness: they were so firm and +vital that they looked as if they would never fade. But on the second +night of "The Song," when Marise arrived in her dressing-room, another +anonymous gift awaited her. + +It was smaller than the table, but not less original; a black bowl, half +full of water bright and pale green as aquamarines, on the surface of +which floated three pink pond-lilies. The bowl stood on the star's +dressing-table, and, switching on the electric lights, a gleam as of +drowned emeralds sparkled under the lilies. Marise cried out in delight, +and ran to look for a card. This time he would reveal himself! (She knew +it was "he," and that it was the same man who had sent the table.) But +no. There was neither card nor note. Messenger boys had brought the +bowl. They had driven up in a taxi. If only Marise had dreamed of +receiving a second gift from the same source, she would have watched--or +even employed a detective. She was so excited and curious that she +feared for her acting that night. + +With the bowl and the lilies had come a large jar of crystals for +tinting the water: green, glittering lumps, like precious stones from +Aladdin's Cave, and that was precisely the label on the jar of jewels: +"Aladdin's Cave." Marise was childishly thrilled. When Belloc peeped in, +she showed her treasures, and learned that "Aladdin's Cave" was the name +chosen by a queer artist, new, but famous already for his +exhibition-shop in a cellar of that Bohemian haunt known as Greenwich +Village. + +Next morning the girl went there in a taxi: and when she had bought +exotic enamels, and transparent vases filled with synthetic sapphires, +she told "Aladdin" about the bowl. Like Herté, he shook his head. He was +but another man who "could not go beyond a District messenger boy." + +The stage door-keeper was now warned to find out what he could, if +another anonymous gift appeared. Also, Céline was sent early to the +theatre. Marise could not, however, quite bring herself to engage a +detective. She was tempted to do so, and urged by her mother, who had +visions of a mysterious millionaire ready to take the place of Severance +if the Englishman failed after all. But the girl felt that to set +sleuth-hounds on its track would kill romance. It would, she told Mums, +be like deliberately rubbing the bloom off hothouse grapes before you +ate them. And as it turned out, she was glad she had listened to +sentiment; for on the third night her only offerings were chocolates and +flowers ticketed conspicuously with their givers' names. + +This was like a too abrupt ending to a fairy tale. But, after all, it +was only the end of a chapter. On the fourth night a long +blue-and-silver box lay across two chairs in the dressing-room. It +looked like a box from a smart dressmaker, though no dressmaker's name +was visible. "Has Mademoiselle ordered anything?" Céline inquired, as +she untied the ribbon-fastenings. + +No, Mademoiselle had ordered nothing that day--at least nothing for the +theatre. She gave a little gasp as the Frenchwoman removed the box cover +and a layer of silver-stencilled blue tissue paper. Underneath filmed a +pale blue cloud which Marise snatched up and pronounced to be a "boudoir +gown." It was made from a material which fashion names mousseline de +soie one year and something else another. It was the blue of bluebells, +banded with swansdown and embroidered with silver thistles. Altogether, +it might have been created expressly for Miss Sorel by an admiring +genius. + +"From Herté!" exclaimed Mums. + +But Marise knew better, and would pit her own "instinct" against her +mother's any day. "No, from Him," she pronounced. "If this goes on much +longer without my finding out who He is, I shall simply perish." + +And it did go on: not night after night, but stopping, and beginning +again just as she thought the giver's invention exhausted or his pockets +empty. It went on for ten days, until Marise had received, in addition +to the three first gifts, an ancient Italian mirror in a carved silver +frame; an exquisite wax doll, modelled and dressed to represent herself +as "Dolores" in the third act of "The Spring Song," and an old Sèvres +box filled with crystallised violets--evidently _his_ favoured flower. + +"He must be rich, or else he's poor, and so in love that he's absolutely +beggaring himself for you," said Mrs. Sorel. + +Marise volunteered no opinion. But secretly she preferred the second +hypothesis. She was used to rich men; but no girl is ever really used to +Romance. The mystery thrilled and delighted her, and bored Severance to +distraction. He realised that, if he said to the girl what he had to say +while this spell was upon her, she might let him go with hardly a pang, +instead of clinging to him at almost any price. So he did not say it. He +waited, and sent several cables to his mother's half-brother, +Constantine Ionides, one of the richest bankers in Europe. In the first +of these telegrams he stated that he had influenza, and might not be +allowed to travel for several weeks, but, as soon as he could, he would +return to London. This, because he had come to a certain understanding +with his half-uncle before undertaking the American "mission," and +because Mr. Ionides unluckily knew that the unimportant mission was now +wound up. + +At the end of ten days the girl decided upon a desperate step, for she +felt that "Dolores" as well as Marise Sorel was beginning to suffer from +curiosity deferred. She forgot to take a cue on the night of the doll; +and at home, after she had been in bed an hour, she suddenly sat up and +switched on the light. On a table within reach of her hand were paper +and envelopes, and a gold fountain-pen given her by Severance. Quickly +she wrote out a paragraph which she had composed in the sleepless hours; +and without a word to Mums (sure to disapprove) she gave it very early +next morning to Céline with instructions. + +That evening, in some of the New York papers, and the following day in +all those which had "personal" columns, her paragraph appeared. "Dolores +thanks the anonymous friend who has sent her six charming gifts in ten +days, and begs that he or she will make an appointment to call at her +hotel as soon as possible, in order that Dolores may express her +pleasure and gratitude by word of mouth." + +When Marise read this appeal in print her heart beat in her throat, and +she was dreadfully afraid that her mother or Severance might happen to +glance down that column. But she was even more afraid that the person to +whom it was addressed might not. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +ON SUNDAY AT THREE + + +"Oh, by the way, Miss Marks," said Marise, "you needn't trouble to read +my letters this morning. I--er--slept badly, and I'm up at such an +unearthly hour, I might as well go through them myself." + +She spoke from the doorway between her bedroom and the salon, where Miss +Marks, her secretary, was taking off gloves and hat before getting to +work; and she had on the boudoir gown of mousseline de soie and +swansdown sent by the Great Unknown a week ago. This was the first time +she had worn it, and Miss Marks's eyes sent forth a flash which might +mean admiration or jealousy, or both. Marise diagnosed the emotion as +jealousy. If she were right, she was sorry for the girl, who, though +handsome, could not compare with her, and who, though very intelligent, +was only a stenographer, at about twenty-five: two years older than she, +who was already a brilliant star! + +This thought was but a flash, brief as the flash in the secretary's +eyes, for instantly the mind of Marise turned to the letters. Thank +goodness she was in time! Another three minutes, and she might have been +too late. Miss Marks would by then have begun her first task of the day: +opening letters and sorting them, placing requests for autographs and +photos in one pile, pleas for money in a second, demands for advice or +help about going on the stage in a third, and so on. Who could tell if +the one envelope whose contents no eye but Marise Sorel's should see +mightn't lie at the very top? + +As a matter of fact, it did not lie at the top. It was nearer the +bottom, and long before she found it Marise had begun to fear that it +didn't exist. + +The trying part was that the envelopes told her nothing. She had to cut +or tear open each one, unless she recognised the handwriting of the +address, and could then throw it aside till later. She went through the +business curled up on a sofa, sitting on one foot, which showed among +snowdrifts of swansdown. It was a stockingless foot, thrust into a +silver _mule_ lined with blue velvet; and her skin was satin smooth and +creamy pink as the inside of a conch shell. Miss Marks noticed this, and +noticed also how long and thick was the plait of yellow-brown hair that +dangled over the sofa-back, its curling end within a few inches of the +floor. She smiled faintly as she saw how fast her employer worked, and +how she tossed the letters aside after a fevered glance at each. Marise +was quite right. Miss Marks was very intelligent! She knew, almost as +well as if she had been told the whole story, just why Miss Sorel had +got up at so "unearthly an hour" this morning. + +"Ah, now she's found the one she didn't want me to see!" the dark girl +said to herself, as the face of Marise turned suddenly pink, and bent +over a letter which she read through twice from beginning to end. Then, +lest she should be caught staring, Miss Marks began to arrange her +newly-sharpened pencils and the writing-pad on which she would take +down, in shorthand, letters dictated by Miss Sorel. + +She need not, however, have troubled herself with these elaborate +precautions. Miss Sorel was interested in and puzzled by this handsome +young Jewess with the burning eyes and wet-coral lips; but for the +moment Miss Marks's very existence was forgotten. + +The letter had come, as Marise hoped it might, on this the second day of +her advertisement; but the mystery remained unsolved. Indeed, it was +purposely kept up, for the thick parchment paper had neither initial nor +address. The few words on the first page were unsigned, and only one +secret was given away: but to Marise this was of great importance. The +strong, black handwriting was certainly that of a man. She would have +turned sick with chagrin at sight of a woman's penmanship. + + "It is I who have to thank you, not you me," she read. "You are + very kind to invite me to call, and say I must come soon. I + will take you at your word. Unless I hear to the contrary + through a second 'personal' in the _New York Record_, I will + ask for you at the Plaza Hotel at three o'clock next Sunday + afternoon." + +This was all, and Marise hardly knew whether to be pleased or +disappointed with the brief simplicity of her anonymous admirer. He, +whose original ideas in presents had made her imagine him the most +modern and mundane of men, expressed himself on paper rather like a shy, +old-fashioned schoolboy. A dampening doubt oozed into the girl's mind. +What if he hadn't picked out those wonderful things himself? What if he +had got some woman to choose them? But even a doubt--a piercing, new +doubt--had its fascination. And after Sunday it would be gone for ever. +She would know the worst--or best--of her Mystery Man. + +On Sunday afternoons she and her mother were "at home" to their friends, +from four to six; He proposed coming at three, however, and he was sure +to be prompt to the moment. That ought to give an hour before extraneous +people began to pour in. But--what about Mums? Marise concentrated her +mind upon that pressing problem. + +Mums was as curious as she concerning the unknown. But Mums, though an +absolute trump and a darling, was the most conventional woman on earth. +Just because she and Marise were not born to the high sphere they now +adorned, Mums was determined that neither should be guilty of the +smallest act unworthy of--at least--a countess. Naturally, as Mums +herself would admit, if you were already a countess, you could perhaps +afford to do what you pleased: and to judge from "smart society" columns +many countesses availed themselves to the full of their prerogatives. +Marise might soon be a countess; and if so, Mums would cease to dictate +from the rules of an etiquette book; but until that day those keen brown +eyes needed no lorgnettes to watch a daughter's doings. + +After a few minutes' reflection, the girl decided that she would not +confess to Mums what she had done. It would mean a scolding as a first +instalment, and a serial continued day by day of gentle, motherly +nagging. Marise loved her parent, but she hated to be nagged. No. Mums +must somehow be whisked out of the way before three o'clock next Sunday, +and kept out of it long enough for an understanding to be reached with +Him. + +Of course, Marise said to herself, she wouldn't tell a fib. She would +just explain frankly (she could see how she would look, her eyes very +blue and big, being frank with Him!) that she hadn't dared tell anyone, +even her mother, about the advertisement. And she would beg him to "help +her out" when she--er--made it seem as if he'd merely written to say he +would call unless he heard to the contrary. By that time she would know +his name, so the thing could be managed easily, and Mums never suspect +to what lengths she had gone. As for Severance, the coast would be clear +of him on Sunday till long after three. Dunstan Belloc was giving a +"stag" luncheon that day, at one-thirty, and she had persuaded Tony +against his will to accept. But Mums? How dispose of her? Suddenly a +bright idea swam to the rescue. + +Marise slipped the Unknown's letter into a pocket disguised as a bunch +of silver thistles. Then, with large, innocent eyes, she turned to her +secretary, "Oh, Miss Marks!" she exclaimed. And being an actress, it +occurred to her that the young woman addressed was surprisingly absorbed +in removing lead-pencil dust from her manicured fingers. If +she--Marise--had been secretly studying Miss Marks's profile or back +hair, she would have been equally absent-minded if addressed! She +wondered for the fiftieth time whether it was a coincidence that Miss +Marks had called on the manager of the Plaza the very day after the +Sorels had asked him to find a private secretary. + +At first, when Marise saw how handsome the girl was, and heard that +she'd "hoped Miss Sorel might want someone," the wary young actress +feared that Miss Marks wished to go on the stage. But now the +stenographer had been coming to the Plaza each morning for a week, and +had not thrown out such a hint. She was, indeed, entirely business-like, +and possessed of good references. Still, the fact remained that she had +never before applied to the manager of this hotel; and her appearance +had been apropos as that of the sacrificial sheep caught in the bushes. +Besides, Marise had often observed that odd, appreciative flame in the +black eyes, as if Miss Marks were more interested than a secretary need +be in her employer. + +"Yes, Miss Sorel?" the dark girl responded. "Would you like me to take +dictation?" + +"Not yet, thanks," said Marise. "I haven't had my bath or breakfast, and +I'm hungry. But I've thought of something. Mother and I were so excited +about that Polish boy-dressmaker genius you were talking of yesterday. +He sounds wonderful; and, as he's only beginning, I suppose he's not +choked with orders. He might do some work for me in a hurry?" + +"I think he'd sit up at night and go without meals by day to work for +you," replied Miss Marks. "It would be such an advertisement. And he +loves working for pretty people." + +"Well, I love helping geniuses." Marise modestly accepted the +compliment. "Didn't you say his flat is on your floor?" + +Miss Marks answered that this was the case. Valinski would move to a +fashionable neighbourhood some day. At present his talent budded in 85th +Street. + +"I wish I could go to him myself," sighed Marise. "I can't now, for I'm +so hard-worked and tired. But I thought mother might take a taxi after +lunch next Sunday and choose a design for a tea-gown--his specialty, you +said. Would he see her on Sunday--about a quarter to three, so she could +get back for her friends?" + +Miss Marks was certain of Valinski's consent. She would come for Mrs. +Sorel, if that would suit, and take her to the dressmaker. Marise +thought it would suit: and Mums, arriving at that moment dressed for the +day, an appointment was made. + +The life of Marise Sorel was so full, the pattern of each day so gaily +embroidered with emotions and incidents, that she was surprised at her +own excitement. She did not, however, try to quench it. She loved to +feel that, in spite of the adulation she received, one side of her +nature was as fresh, as unspoiled, as a child's. And she was as guiltily +pleased as a child when, at twenty minutes before three on Sunday +afternoon, her mother went down to a waiting taxi with Zélie Marks. +Patronising the Pole and choosing a design would eat up an hour, Marise +had calculated. + +She had put on a white dress of the simplicity whose price is beyond +rubies. Her hair was in a great gleaming knot of gold at the nape of her +neck. She looked about sixteen, and felt it. When the bell of the +telephone rang at three minutes before three, she thrilled all over. + +"A gentleman asking for Mademoiselle. He says he has an appointment," +announced Céline at the 'phone. + +"Any name?" Marise inquired. + +Céline put her lips to the instrument, the receiver to her ear. "The +gentleman has given no name, because he is expected. But if Mademoiselle +wishes that I insist----?" + +"No. Tell them he's to come up at once. And, Céline, be ready to open +the door of the suite." + +The Frenchwoman went out noiselessly: Marise rushed to the long mirror, +in front of which tall, scented roses were banked. Her cheeks were very +pink. She was like a rose herself. But hastily she rubbed her little +nose with powder from a vanity box. The gold case was only just snapped +shut, and Marise seated with a book, when she heard a sound in the +vestibule. He had come! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SAMSON AGONISTES + + +Marise raised her eyes from an uncut volume of poems, and looked into +the face of--Samson. + +The shock of disillusion was so cruel that the girl felt faint. She was +giddy, as if she had stooped too long over a hot fire and risen +abruptly. + +So this--_this_--was her Man of Mystery, he who had held in unseen hands +more than half her thoughts for a delicious fortnight! She had deigned +to advertise in a newspaper for the pleasure of meeting this lout, +spurned by his smart regiment, despite his Victoria Cross: this cad, +whose notion of revenge was to explode as a bomb a bottle of +ginger-beer! + +The warm glow of anticipation was chilled to ice. The hands that +tightened on the book went suddenly cold. Marise did not know what to +do. She wavered between an impulse to be rude and the dutiful decency of +a hostess. Meanwhile, forgetting to act, she stared at the tall figure +as if at an approaching executioner. No one but a blind man or a fool +could have failed to see in those beautiful eyes the blankness of +disappointment. + +John Garth was neither blind nor a fool, and that look of hers was a +sharp-edged axe which "hit him where he lived," as his bruised mind +vaguely put it. + +He too had been like a child. Ever since the day of landing in New York +he had planned and existed only for this moment. He had coached himself +for it, dressed himself for it, spent his money like water for it. And +this was his reward. The sight of him was a blow over the heart for his +queen of romance. It blanched her cheeks. It made her physically sick. + +Céline had softly shut the door behind the guest, but involuntarily he +backed against it. If he had been a few years younger he would have +turned like a country boy and rushed away without a word. But there are +some things a man can't do; and others he must do. Garth had to say +something--the sooner the better. + +What he said--or what said itself lamely--was: "You didn't expect to see +me?" + +"No. I--didn't," Marise as lamely agreed. + +"Do you want me to go?" he blundered. "If you do, I will." + +"No--no," she breathed a lukewarm protest. "Don't go--please. I--I'm +only a little surprised. I remember--seeing you on the ship, of course. +And I didn't think----" + +"You didn't think I'd force myself on you--by false pretences." + +"I was going to say, I didn't think of seeing anyone to-day--whom I'd +ever seen before." The ice of her shocked resentment melted slightly in +the reflected fire of his pain. "That's all! Do--sit down, won't you? +I'm so grateful. I want to tell you how much--how much I thank you for +those beautiful things." + +As she spoke, the girl's face flushed again. After all, the man had done +nothing so monstrous. He couldn't be blamed, perhaps, for not realising +that merely by being himself--by being a bounder whom his brother +officers rejected--he had broken the charm of the mystery. He couldn't +know how undesirable he would seem to a girl of her sort. And the way he +had dressed himself up like a provincial actor playing a duke, to make +his call, was pathetic! Besides, there was the money he'd spent on +her--hundreds and hundreds of dollars which he couldn't afford. Oh, she +was glad that she hadn't followed her first fierce impulse, and been +rude! + +Garth had not accepted the invitation to sit down. He remained standing +upright as a stick, and stolid as a stone, against the door. Evidently +he stuck to his resolve to take himself away, and was delayed only by +the mental puzzle of how best to do it. With a repentant throe the girl +sprang up, light and lithe from among her cushions, holding out her +hands. + +"I do thank you!" she exclaimed. "And I _want_ you to sit down." + +Her look, her gesture, overcame him. He took a step forward, seized the +offered hands, and almost crushed them in his. Marise was rather +frightened, rather touched, but not too much moved to notice that he +didn't know enough about behaviour to take off his gloves--his brutally +new, gamboge-coloured gloves! Or else he was absent minded! + +Partly because her one ring was pressing into her finger, partly because +she wished for instant release, she gave a little squeak of pain. "Oh, +my ring!" + +Red blood poured up to the man's brown face. The pressure relaxed, but +he did not let her hands go. He lifted them to his lips and kissed first +one, then the other. His mouth was hot as a coal just dropped from the +fire!... That was her quick impression. She was not shocked, for her +hands had been kissed a hundred times by sad, mad men--though not men +like this. She said "Oh!" however, and gazed at him reproachfully, as +"Dolores" gazed at the villain in "The Song." + +The effect upon Garth was the same as if she had been sincerely +offended. He let her hands fall, and stammered "Forgive me!" + +Marise was beginning to enjoy herself a little, on the whole. + +Of course the man was common and rough. What was it that Tony had called +his despised brother officer? A "temporary gentleman!" Yes, that was it! +And a "momentary gentleman" would be even more appropriate, she thought, +because at an instant of deep emotion all decent men were raised to the +heights of Nature's gentility. This fellow was as fine as any nobleman, +for these few seconds of time, she realised, and it was worship of her +which added the new decoration to his V.C.! Despite her disappointment, +she felt that romance was not utterly lacking in the situation. + +"There's nothing to forgive," were the obvious words her lips spoke: but +the language of such eyes as hers could never be obvious. The soul of +John Garth drowned in their blue depths. As dying men lose all care for +conventions, so did he lose it while thus he drowned. + +"I love you--I love you!" he faltered. "You know, don't you? From the +first--from the first look!" + +"Oh no, I don't know that," Marise soothed him. "But you've been so +kind. Those wonderful presents! You ought not----" + +"Thinking of them--sending them--has been the big joy of my life," he +broke in. "I've been--drunk with it. I've never felt anything like this +before. Why, I'd die for you; I'd sell my soul. Even that's nothing!" + +"They're very great things," she assured him gravely, as she had assured +other men of different types who had flung themselves on her altar as +burnt-offerings. "Any woman would feel the same. But----" + +"I don't care a hang what any other woman would feel. All I care for on +God's earth is you--you. Couldn't you think of me--couldn't you, if I +tried to make something of myself----?" + +Marise laughed a charming laugh. "Isn't it making something of yourself, +to have won the Victoria Cross?" she challenged. + +"Oh, that! That was an accident. I just got so mad I forgot to be scared +for a minute or two, and went for a few Germans----" + +"The newspapers compared you to Horatio keeping the bridge against an +army." + +"George! You remember that?" + +"Women don't forget such things." (She would have forgotten if that +clipping from the _Daily Mail_ hadn't associated itself with Tony's +onslaught upon the regimental hero. But she wasn't called upon to +mention this.) "It was long before I saw you, that I read what you had +done, and fixed your name in my mind," she went on. "Now I have my own +special memories of you. I shall keep your gifts always. And I shall be +prouder of them than ever, because they came from a hero----" + +"You're breaking it to me that there's no hope," he cut in. The blood +was gone from his face now. "Nothing I could do, or try to be, would +make you like me well enough----" + +"Oh, you are too impulsive!" she checked him. "You've seen me only +twice----" + +"I've seen you every night since we landed, and twice a week in the +afternoon." + +"What, you've come to the theatre for every performance, even matinées, +just to--to----?" + +"Hear your voice and see your face. And hate that damned actor-chap who +kisses you in the third act." + +"He doesn't really kiss me," Marise hurried to explain. "He only seems +to." + +"God! He must be a stone image!" + +"He is a gentleman," amended Marise. "Actors who are gentlemen don't +kiss the actresses who play opposite parts, unless--unless it's +absolutely necessary." + +"Then if I played a part with you on the stage, I couldn't be a +gentleman," Garth exploded. But even as he spoke he blushed darkly. "You +don't think I am one _off_ the stage," he added. "And you're right. I'm +not what your friend Lord Severance calls a gentleman. I know what he +does call me, and I am that, I guess, anyhow when he's within gunshot. +He brings out all that's worst in me. There's a lot of it--so much, that +if that thing on shipboard was to do over again, I'd do it without a +qualm. I suppose there's where the 'cad' element he talks about in me +shows up. If he was here now----" + +"Ze Earl of Severance, Mademoiselle," announced Céline. + +Whether Garth had meant to boast or belittle himself Marise would never +know. Nor did she care. All her faculties concentrated upon how to +account to Severance for the man. It was a suffocating moment. She +feared a scene between the two. The situation called for a stroke of +genius. Was she equal to it? She must be, for Garth's sake and for her +own, even more than for Tony's, and what he would think. + +Severance came in. Suddenly Marise felt as she had felt on the stage +when something went wrong with the play. She had often had to save +situations by sheer, quick mother wit. Never had she failed her fellow +actors in a crisis. She ought to be ready for this! + +Her nerves ceased to jump. She was calm and confident. As Severance's +darkening gaze fell on Garth, she heard herself glibly explaining the +latter, as if to an audience. + +"Major Garth is a friend of Miss Marks, my secretary. She has gone out +for a few minutes with mother, but he is waiting for her. She'll soon be +back." + +Speaking, she smiled at the V.C., and her eyes pleaded excuses for the +fib. "It's only a white one," they said. "And it saves our secret. I +know you'd hate me to tell him you'd sent the presents, and I never, +never will. That is sacred, between us two. So is all the rest. And I'm +trying to straighten things out for us both." + +Garth appeared to be astonished, but not shocked. His silk hat (a size +too small) lay on a table in a pool of water from an upset vase, he +having flung it there to free his hands for hers. Now he made a move to +retrieve his damaged property, but a second thought gave him pause. +Marise read his mind as if it worked under glass. Her fib about Miss +Marks had doomed him to the part of Casabianca, while the ship of his +pride burned. + +The "lion-look" she had seen in the man's eyes that day at sea was in +them again. Poor brute at bay, caged with Severance! The girl pitied +him. But things must take their course. Luckily for the success of her +lie, Miss Marks was not returning with Mums. She--Marise--need only say, +when the latter arrived alone, what a pity it was! Thus Samson would +automatically obtain his release. + +The men nodded to one another, as polite enemies must sullenly do in a +woman's drawing-room. Then Severance turned to Miss Sorel with the air +of sponging Garth's mean existence off the earthly slate. "I'm early," +he explained, "because the hotel people sent me a cable to Belloc's +place. I told them to do so, if one came. My Uncle Constantine Ionides +is ill, and I'm afraid I shall have to go back by the first ship I can +catch. I hoped to be in time for a few words with you before your +friends began to drop in." + +This was hard on the intruder, forced against his will to turn a +"company" into a "crowd," and Marise's kind heart might have resented +the slap if her mind had been free. But it was instantly preoccupied +with Tony's news. He was going home! He wanted to talk with her alone. +This could mean only one thing. She supposed that he wished her to +understand as much; and either he took Garth for a dunce or intended him +to understand it too. It was as if he said to the bounder: "You're +welcome to what you can find in your own class: Miss Marks and her set. +But eyes down and hands off this girl. She's mine." + +The hint was too broad, the position too humiliating, for Garth's temper +to bear in patience. Like the caged brute in Marise's simile, he +searched the bars for some way of breaking through. But he could not +leave her in the lurch. Practically, she'd ordered him to "stand by," +and he'd have to do it, unless some look of hers gave him leave to bolt. +The look did not come, however, and he could not guess that the girl was +merely too absent-minded to give it. She had suddenly become as +self-absorbed as a hermit-crab when he pulls every filament of himself +inside his ample shell. As Miss Sorel questioned Severance about the +telegram, Garth was left to his own resources. He felt gigantic in the +small, pretty salon, where Chinese jars and ribboned pots of flowers +left hardly room for a clumsy fellow like him to turn among frail chairs +and tables. He knew that Severance knew how he writhed in spirit, and +that Severance knew he knew. How much worse was this ordeal than a petty +barrage of ginger-beer! Severance was scoring heavily now. Garth thought +in dumb rage that he would give a year of life for some way to pay him +back. And the girl, too! He loved her with a burning love, but at this +moment the difference between love and hate was as imperceptible as that +between the touch of ice and a red-hot poker. She was being very cruel. +Garth felt capable of punishing her--with Severance--if he could. + +He took his hat from the table, and rubbing the wet silk with his glove, +stained the yellow kid. Incidentally he made the hat worse. He wandered +to a window looking over the park, and longed to jump out. In his +awkward misery, the man's raw sensitiveness suffered to exaggeration. +Staring jealously at the crowd below--walking, driving, spinning past in +autos--he knew the emotions of one penned at the top of a house on fire, +gazing down at the safe, comfortable people free to pursue their daily +business of life, and love, and work. Behind him, Marise and her friend +jabbered (that was the word in his head, even for her sweet voice) as if +he were invisible. Desperation seized him. He turned, and down went a +stand with a statuette and the Sèvres box the "Unknown" had sent Miss +Sorel. It was poetic justice that _his_ gift should be the thing +smashed! + +Marise said "Oh!" Severance said nothing. He stood still, fingering his +miniature moustache with the air of a man who expects a lackey to repair +damage. Garth saw red; and if he had picked up a piece of the broken box +it would have been to hurl it at the dark, sneering face. But Heaven +sometimes tempers the wind to shorn lions as well as lambs: and if +Providence did not order the entrance of two women at that instant, who +did? + +It was Mrs. Sorel who appeared and (Marise gasped) Miss Zélie Marks. Out +of her shell in self-defence, the actress would have rushed to save this +scene, as she had saved the last--somehow, anyhow! But to her +bewilderment Garth took one great stride towards Miss Marks and snatched +her hand as drowning men are said to snatch at straws. "How do you do?" +he exclaimed eagerly. + +"Miss Marks and Major Garth are friends," Marise rattled off to her +mother. And to herself she added, "How smart of him to guess who she +was! Or--did he know?" + +The secretary's cheeks were stained carnation, and she was handsomer in +an instant than Marise had thought she could be in a year. Her black +eyes were twinkling. Did she guess that she was a pawn in a game, and +had she so keen a sense of humour as to laugh? Marise was more +interested than ever in this young woman: and Mrs. Sorel, not knowing +the plot of the play, was yet warned by her famous "instinct" that +something queer, something dangerous, was in the air. + +She was a woman who prided herself on presence of mind. Marise hadn't +expected her secretary to return, therefore it seemed unlikely she would +have encouraged the Bounder to wait for Miss Marks. And as for that, why +was the Bounder here? Being here, the further he could be kept from +Marise and Severance the better. She herself had no time to weave spells +for him. Miss Marks must do that, and take him away with her when she +went. Without appearing to pause after Marise's announcement, Mary Sorel +smiled at Miss Marks. "Talk to Major Garth, my dear," she patronised, +"while I explain to my daughter why we tore back in such a rush." + +Zélie Marks took the lady at her word, and drew her "friend" apart. By +the remotest window the two halted, standing confidentially close, the +girl looking up at the man, the man looking down at the girl. As the +conversation was now only of Valinski's dress designs, not Severance's +plans, Marise had a sub-eyelash glance or so to spare for the couple. +Well, certainly Samson was a creditable actor, or else.... + +"They were all so lovely I dared not choose," Mums was expatiating. "I +said to Miss Marks, 'Suppose we run back in the taxi and let my daughter +select? Or, she may want to order more than one of the gowns.' So I +slipped the designs back into the portfolio Mr. Valinski had taken them +from, and asked permission to borrow the lot. Lord Severance must tell +us which he prefers. He's such a good judge! And Miss Marks can carry +back the portfolio, with a note from me to Valinski, when she goes." + +The three heads--Tony's glossy black, Marise Sorel's glittering gold, +her mother's a rich, expensive brown--bent together above a trio of +water-colour sketches. Under cover of selection Severance whispered: "I +have some bad news. Marise knows it. But I've got to have a talk with +you both before I leave this room. I can't bear suspense. For heaven's +sake get rid of people as early as you can." + +"Must talk to them both.... Couldn't bear suspense!" The woman agreed +with the girl in thinking there was but one interpretation for this! + +"I'll do my best," murmured Mrs. Sorel, and resolved to begin the good +work by bustling Miss Marks and Major Garth off the moment the tea-gown +business was finished. In the midst, however, Mrs. Dunstan Belloc +breezed in with her pretty sister and Belloc's millionaire backer. Mary +Sorel moved to meet them with the manner she had copied from Tony's +great-aunt, the Duchess of Crownderby. So doing, she slipped Valinski's +portfolio into her daughter's hands with an unduchess-like, "Hurry up +and choose, and have done with it!" + +Somehow, Marise had not the proper new-dress thrill this afternoon. She +languidly decided on a classic design which Severance liked, and +Valinski had named "Galatea." + +"Put the others back in the portfolio, please, Tony," she said. "I must +go and help Mums"--but the microbe of accidents was running amok in the +Sorels' salon. Tony dropped the book, and the Pole's designs fluttered +about the room. Everybody squealed and began picking up papers. One had +fallen on the remains of the Sèvres box, as if to hide the wreckage. +Garth was nearest the scene of his own disaster. He stooped. Marise +seized the chance for a word with him. She stooped also. Each grasped +the sketch, which came face uppermost; and under their eyes was the +design for the blue and silver gown sent by the Unknown. + +Zoyo Valinski had made that dress, then, and sacrificed an advertisement +to keep Garth's secret! Zoyo Valinski lived in the house with Miss +Marks, and was recommended by her. H'm! H'm! + +These thoughts jostled each other in the brain of Marise, and brought in +their train another. Naturally Garth had not been shocked at her fib. He +didn't know it was a fib! The surprise was only that Miss Sorel had hit +on the truth and used it so glibly. + +"That Marks girl helped him choose the things," she told herself. And +she was as much annoyed as puzzled. She wished to fling at Garth: "You +sent her to our hotel manager to ask for my work. Why, she's simply +spying on me, for you!" + +But she said nothing of the sort. Indeed, she had no time. Seeing Marise +and the Bounder together, Mary Sorel flew to part them. "Miss Marks +wants me to say she'll be ready to go in a few minutes," the anxious +lady encouraged Garth. "She's been captured by Mrs. Belloc. It seems she +did secretarial work for her once. Come, and I'll introduce you. I've +just told Mrs. Belloc that you are _the_ V.C." + +It was half an hour before the man's martyrdom was ended. The worst had +been suffered at the beginning, when he was the third in a reluctant +trio. But it was all bad enough. He was as well suited to this jewel-box +of a salon as a bull is to a china shop, and he had done nearly as much +damage. He didn't know what to say to Mrs. Belloc or her smart, +chattering friends, and they didn't know what to say to him. Even a +Victoria Cross couldn't excuse such taste in clothes as his! The big +fellow's necktie was a scream; his gloves (no other man kept on gloves!) +a yell; and his boots--literally--a squeak. That was the description of +him which Mrs. Belloc planned for the entertainment of her husband, and +Garth saw it developing behind her eyes. + +"Give me the trenches!" he thought, when at last Miss Marks wriggled +free of the actor-manager's wife. He still hated Marise as much as he +loved her. Yet when he said "Good-bye" he did not mean it for farewell. +He determined ferociously that he would see her again. "Next time," he +resolved, "I won't knock over any tables. I'll turn them. I'll turn the +tables my way perhaps, and against that damned pig of an earl!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WHAT THE STAR SAID + + +"Thank Heaven she's gone, and it's ten minutes past!" fervently sighed +Mrs. Sorel, as the door closed behind a guest she had kissed warmly on +both cheeks. "Céline, 'phone down and tell them not to send anyone else +up, no matter who. We needn't be 'at home' a second after six." + +She and Marise and Severance now had the sitting-room to themselves. The +girl, who had been too busy feeding others to eat anything herself, +selected a macaroon from a half-empty dish and nibbled it prettily. +Severance regarded the charming creature with clouded eyes, wondering +how much appetite their talk would leave her. + +"How dear of you to stay and see us through!" cooed Mary, as if she had +not known Severance's impatience equal to her own. She did this to lead +up to her own tactful exit; and the mere male swallowed her bait without +suspicion. + +"See you through?" he echoed. "Why, I've been hanging on by my eyelids, +waiting for my chance with you and Marise." + +"Unless it's something you need me for," the chaperon said sweetly, +"perhaps I might leave you to Marise's tender mercies. I'm a little +tired----" + +"I do need you," Severance assured her. "I don't dare to say what I've +got to say to Marise alone. If I did, she might misunderstand. I can't +risk that. Mrs. Sorel, this talk means everything to me. You're my +friend. Promise _you_ won't misunderstand." + +Mary Sorel retained a fixed, kind smile; but she had a sickly sensation +under her Empire waistband, as if something inside had melted and then +cooled. She glanced at Marise, to judge if the girl had been in any way +prepared for this queer outbreak. No, evidently not! The blue eyes +looked large and suddenly scared. Marise stopped eating the macaroon, +and, going slowly to the table, she laid the nibbled remnant on somebody +else's plate. + +"Why, of course I'll stop," Mary said. "I'm not so tired as to desert +you when you flatter me like that." + +"I'm not flattering, I'm depending on you." Never before, in her +acquaintance with him, had the voice of Severance betrayed such +agitation. Mary braced herself against a blow; but the melting thing +inside began to congeal like cold candle-grease. Her knees felt like +water. Still smiling, she sank rather than sat on a sofa, and held up +her hand to Marise. + +"If Lord Severance has a confession to make, we'd better sit together in +judgment," she proposed. "We'll be kind judges, and this shall be our +throne." + +"Call it an appeal--a prayer--not a confession," Severance said. "If I'd +ever prayed to God as I'm going to pray to you both, maybe I'd not be in +the fix I'm in now." + +"One would think you were afraid of us!" quavered Marise. + +"I am," he admitted. "I was never in such a blue funk in my life. My +legs are like poached eggs without toast." + +The girl laughed nervously. "You'd better sit down," she advised. + +"I couldn't to save my life. Might as well ask a chap on the rack to +sing 'Araby.'" + +"You're really frightening us!" Mary's tone was shrill. "Have Bolsheviks +blown up your family castles? Have you lost all your money? Aren't you +the true heir to the title?" + +"I'm the heir right enough," Severance took her seriously. "And I +haven't got any money--worth calling money. There's the rub! Marise, you +know I love you?" + +The girl caught her breath. "Why--sometimes I've thought so." + +"You've known it, as well as you know you're alive. If I hadn't come +into the beastly title I'd have asked you to marry me long ago. It was +your own fault I didn't ask you, before my Cousin Eric died--the first +one of the lot to go. You used to snub me every time I tried to speak of +marrying. You didn't want to make up your mind!" + +"No, honestly, I didn't," she confessed. "I liked you a whole lot, Tony, +but--I wasn't quite sure--of either of us, you see, and----" + +"You might have been sure of me! I couldn't look at any woman except +you." + +"It wasn't that sort of thing--exactly. People--cats!--used to put such +horrid ideas into my head." + +"What ideas?" + +"I simply can't tell you, Tony. Don't ask me, please." + +"Oh, well!" he flung out. "It doesn't matter much now what ideas you had +then. Do you love me to-day, Marise?" + +"I--think I do--a little," she almost whispered, as her parent's arm +(twined round her waist) pressed painfully against her side. + +"A little isn't enough!" Severance said. "It must be a big love to stand +the strain." + +"The strain of what?" Mary, as a mother, intervened. + +"Of the sacrifice I'm going to ask--to beg, to implore--her to make." + +"Sacrifice? Do you mean anything about money?" Mrs. Sorel wanted to +know. "You were quite right in calling me your friend. I can assure you +it would be a joy to Marise if, in your trouble, her money----" + +"The trouble's worse than money." + +"Tell us quickly," the girl bade him. "You said you couldn't bear +suspense. Neither can I bear it. We're both fond of you, Tony--Mums and +I. What hurts you, hurts us." And her tingling brain suddenly, +inappropriately, gave her a picture of Garth, as he had stood tall and +stiff against the door. He, too, had said, in vibrating tones, that he +loved her. He had begged her to give him a chance; implored that she +would let him try to be worthy. As if, poor fellow, he ever could come +up to her standard! What girl of her breeding would think of him twice +when there were blue-blooded, perfectly-groomed Greek gods like Tony +Severance on earth? Mentally she whistled John Garth, V.C., down the +wind to low-lying valleys peopled with girls like Miss Marks. + +Tony was pale with the dusky pallor of olive complexions; his pleading +eyes were like velvet with diamonds glittering through. She had never +realised how he loved her--he, whom so many women worshipped. She felt +that she loved him dearly, too. For the first time her heart was stirred +warmly by his extraordinary good looks. + +"You know all about my Uncle Constantine, my mother's half-brother," he +said, leaning on the mantelpiece and nervously lighting a cigarette +(Mrs. Sorel and Marise permitted this; even smoked with him now and +then). "Well, Uncle Con had very little use for me till by a fluke I got +the title. I never expected a penny of his money, though he was my +mother's guardian before she ran away with my father. He thought I was a +rotter, and didn't mind my knowing his opinion. He didn't exactly forbid +me his house in London, for he'd been fond of mother in his hard way, +but he gave me no encouragement to come. His vacillation was because of +my cousin OEnone. Did I ever speak of her to you?" + +"You may have mentioned her," said Marise. "But, of course, we knew of +her existence. There are always things in the papers about people with +such incredible stacks of millions as the Ionides family have. She's a +'poor little rich girl,' isn't she? An invalid--something the matter +with her spine?" + +"She is an invalid," Severance answered. "But as years go, she isn't a +'little girl' any more. She's close on twenty-two. I doubt if she'll +ever see twenty-three in this world." + +"Pathetic!" sympathised Marise. "All that money couldn't give her +happiness!" + +"She thinks," said Severance sullenly, "that only one thing can give her +happiness--marrying me." + +"Good gracious!" gasped Mrs. Sorel. Her blood flew to her head. Was he +asking Marise to love him, only to break the news that she was to be +jilted? + +"OEnone has cared, since she was a tiny child," Severance stumbled +gloomily on. "It really was pathetic, then. When she began to grow up +(not much in size, poor girl, but in years, you know), Uncle Con would +have shut the door on me if he hadn't been afraid OEnone would die of +grief. He thought me cad enough to cook up some plot, and contrive to +marry the girl behind his back--for her millions. But when I got the +earldom, a change came o'er the spirit of his dream.... He's a born +snob, is my half-Uncle Constantine! He always loved a title, and hoped +he could squeeze one for himself out of some British Government, but +he's never succeeded, so far. Instead of chasing me away with a stick, +he invited me to come as often as possible. And just before you arranged +to sail he made me a definite offer." + +"You don't mean----" Mary Sorel broke down in the midst of her sentence. + +"I do. He said if I would marry OEnone, and 'make his daughter a +countess' (real old melodrama stuff!) he'd settle a million pounds on +me, on our wedding-day. Also, I'd inherit OEnone's private fortune. +Darling Marise, dear Mrs. Sorel, if you knew all the money troubles I've +had, and have still, you'd forgive me if I told you this was a +temptation." + +"But you didn't yield?" Mary prompted. + +"No-o. Because Marise was sailing for the States, and I couldn't let her +come over here without me, to be gobbled up by some beastly American +millionaire. I had to be with her. I had to!" + +"That is real love," cried Mary. "I'm proud of you." + +"I'm not proud of myself," he mumbled. "I got that bally mission. I +persuaded Uncle Con to believe--at least I hope he more or less +believed!--that it was thrust on me, instead of my doing all I knew to +bag it. I told him I'd decide directly I returned to England--which +would be soon. But it hasn't been soon. He's a man who gets inside +information about official things. He knows the mission is finished, and +I could go home any day I liked. Presently, if I'm not jolly careful, +he'll find out why I don't like. Then my goose will be cooked. +Marise--Mrs. Sorel--I simply can't afford to have that happen." + +"What do you propose to do?" Mary challenged him, dry-lipped. + +The black eyes blazed despair. "What can I do?" + +"Tony," said Marise softly, "I've got 'normous lots of money saved up; +'most two hundred thousand dollars. You don't need to grovel in the dust +to any old Greek banker, if he is your uncle. So there!" + +"My poor, sweet baby," groaned Severance. "What's two hundred thousand +dollars? Fifty thousand pounds, isn't it? That's pin money for you and +your mother; and you go on making more while you stay on the stage, as a +spider winds silvery thread out of itself. But for me it's not nearly +enough, as things are now. It wouldn't save the situation. I've come +into more than that amount with the estates. It's a drop in the bucket, +I find. The fellows behind me in the succession resigned themselves to +poverty. I can't, for the best of reasons. I'm in a beastly +moneylender's hands. I began by owing him ten thousand pounds. It's more +like eighty thousand to-day. Now, maybe, you see where we stand." + +"No, I don't see yet, where we are concerned," Mary objected. "You said +you'd some suggestion--some proposal to make. But if Manse's money isn't +enough to----" + +"It isn't, even if I could take it." + +"And if you're considering the idea of marrying your cousin----" + +"I've got to marry her. That's all there is to it. I've realised it +since a heart-to-heart talk old Con forced me to have with him a +fortnight before we sailed. I saw that some day this thing would have to +happen." + +"Then where--does Marise come in?" Mary suddenly bristled like a +mother-porcupine. + +For a moment Severance did not speak. It seemed that he could not. His +gaze turned first to Marise, then to Mary. Could it be possible that +those black eyes of his glittered with starting tears? + +"I'm going to tell you," he said slowly, at last. "I want to tell you on +my knees. It's the only way a man could dare to say a thing like this to +a girl like Marise--to a woman like you, Mrs. Sorel." + +He did not wait for a word from either, but dropped to one knee, and +threw his arms about both women as they clung nervously together. They +could feel the throb of blood in his muscles. His face was no longer +merely handsome; it was beautiful with a tragic, Greek beauty. The look +in his eyes (Mary thought vaguely, as one thinks under a light dose of +ether) would touch a heart of stone. + +"I've got to marry OEnone," he repeated, "or come the worst cropper of +any Severance for a century. If I'd never met you, Marise, I'd have done +it without a qualm. OEnone's a nice little thing--not the sort to keep +a man in leading-strings because she holds the purse. I could have +amused myself without much fear that she'd fuss--or tell tales to her +father. But when a man loves a woman as I love you, it changes his +outlook. I must see you. I must be with you. I can't live away from you +for long." + +"I'm afraid you'll have to when you've married Miss Ionides," Mary's +frozen voice warned him. + +"Wait! Listen to my plan. I've only just thoroughly worked it out. +I----" + +"Yet you told us a minute ago that you'd decided on this marriage before +sailing." + +"That's true. But don't be so hard on me. You promised to be kind +judges. Put yourself in my place, if you can, Mrs. Sorel. My love for +your girl is more than love. It's a flame--a driving passion. Can a man +reason coldly when his blood, and his brain too, are on fire! I had to +come with her to New York. I couldn't look ahead further than that. I +mean to make some plan, and God knows I've tried, day and night. I've +thought of little else. But every idea I had was shut up inside what +they call a 'vicious circle.' I could see no way out that Marise would +accept--or you would let her accept. Then this last cable of old Con's +came to-day, while I was at Belloc's. It is a kind of ultimatum. I know +he means me to understand that. You can see it if you like--only let me +go on now--as I'm started. It would be worse beginning again. He says +he's down with 'flu, and OEnone is ill too, and he must see me to +'settle the matter under discussion, or it may be too late.' Those are +his words. They're a threat. By Jove, it was a douche, reading that in +the midst of a jolly luncheon! I saw stars: but one of them has sent me +a ray of light. I almost prayed to get its message. First time I've +prayed since I was in the nursery! Yet here I am on my knees to you +both, to tell you what the star said. + +"Uncle Con may have 'flu, and he may die, but he's sure to tie +everything up tight. I'm marked for slaughter. There's no squirming out. +But poor OEnone can't live long, even if she gets the toy she wants to +play with--me. Her father doesn't thoroughly realise that she's doomed, +but her doctors do. One of them is a friend of mine. He told me. She's +got some queer kind of incipient tuberculosis, and chronic anæmia. +Happiness--such as I can give her--will only be a flash in the pan. I'll +be more of a nurse than a husband. Well, I'm willing to go through all +that, and do my honest best for her, while she lives. But if _I'm_ to +live, I can't be separated for a year--or at worst, let's say two +years--from the light of my life, the core of my heart. I must be able +to meet Marise, to have her society, her friendship--by God, I swear I +mean no evil! I must have something, I tell you, if I'm to get through +that probation. Well, I see as clearly as you both see that we must have +no scandal--for her sake--and for mine, too--and even for OEnone's. I +don't want to distress the poor little thing! So here's the plan that +jumped into my brain ready made. Don't cut me short--don't tell me to +stop before I've explained--before I've got to the end." + +"Go on," said Mary Sorel, in a strained voice. Marise did not speak. She +felt dazed, as if she were in a feverish dream. + +"Suppose I marry; suppose I bring my--suppose I bring OEnone (I can +hardly call her a 'wife') over to America for a change of air, a tonic. +She'd like that. She's always wanted to travel, but her father had no +time; and she wouldn't have been happy with paid guardians. I'd paint a +glowing picture of California--or Arizona: they say it's great out there +for tubercular people. Even OEnone's own father would approve of such +a trip if--if Marise were supposed to be out of the running. Don't +speak! I'm going to explain! What I mean is this.... + +"Old Con is the opposite of a mole. He knows I've been a different man +this last year. He ferreted out the truth somehow--did it himself, or +with a detective's help. Probably himself: he's that kind. He doesn't +trust his secrets to others. He didn't object openly to my American +mission. In a way, it was an honour. But, of course, he learned that I +was sailing on the ship with you two. He hasn't given me a day's rest +since we landed. I wired I'd had 'flu. (I did get a cold last week!) +Then he took a leaf out of my book. Now he's developed the disease! If +Marise were acting in New York and touring the States, he'd smell a rat +if I prescribed America for my bride's health. But if Marise were +married to another man, and had left the stage----" + +"Good heavens!" Mary bounded on the sofa, and gasped aloud. But +Severance pressed her down with a strong arm. + +"You promised to let me finish!" he urged. "Now you'll begin to +understand why I wouldn't say all this to Marise alone. Asking you to be +with us proves my respect for her--for you both. This isn't only the +plea of a desperate man--though it's that first of all! It's a business +proposition. The day I marry OEnone Ionides, I become master of a +million pounds. That's five million dollars. One million of those five +million dollars I would offer to a--dummy husband for Marise. Let me go +on! A man who'd understand that he was to be a figurehead, and nothing +more. You'd say--if you'd say anything--that only a cur in the gutter +would take such a position, and a cur in the gutter would be of no use +to us. To rise above suspicion--even old Con's suspicion!--He'd have to +be a decent sort of chap to all appearances, a man who might attract a +girl--even a girl like Marise. He'd have to have some money of his own +already, and some sort of standing. With that in his favour, the world +and my uncle would accept him as a husband Miss Sorel might choose. Such +a person could be found--for a million dollars. I know men of all sorts, +and I guarantee that. With a million dollars behind her, Marise could +give up the stage--she'd do that, anyhow, if she married me. She could +travel west with her dummy husband (and her mother, of course, that goes +without saying!) By that time, I'd be over here again with poor +OEnone. We could all meet--by accident. In England, even that might +make talk. England's too small for us. But over here, in a big free +country--especially out west--it would be safe. We should see each +other, Marise and I. And I'd ask no more than that. For a while I could +live on the sight of her--and hope. When OEnone's little spark of life +burns out, as it must before long, with the best of care possible, +Marise at once divorces her dummy. He gives her technical cause, of +course. That's part of the bargain I make with my million. No breath of +scandal against Marise! And, a few months later, she and I are married. +There's only this short road of red-hot ploughshares for us both to +tread. Then, instead of marrying a pauper, such as I am now, and both of +us battening on her bank account--she'd perhaps be forced to go back on +the stage to keep the pot boiling--my darling girl finds herself the +wife of a very rich man, one of the richest peers in Great Britain. For +in addition to old Con's million pounds, I should have OEnone's +private fortune. He has agreed to that, with her, in the event of her +death, which he hopes may be long delayed by happiness, and which I know +won't--can't possibly be.... There! I've finished at last! The only +thing left is for me to tell you over again that my life depends on your +decision. I believe I'll kill myself if the answer is 'No.'" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SOMETHING OUT OF ANCIENT ROME + + +The hot torrent of words ceased. There was silence in the gaily-tinted, +flower-filled salon, save for the tick of an absurd Louis Seize clock on +the mantel. Under the gilt wheel of Time a cupid balanced back and +forth, in a Rhinestone swing--"Yes," "No," the seesaw motion seemed to +say. + +The stillness was terrible to Severance. He did not get up from his +knees. He did not release the women's waists from the girdle of his +arms. His eyes were on the face of Marise. Never had he seen her so +pale. + +"For God's sake, speak!--one of you," he stammered. + +Abruptly the girl pushed his arm away, and sprang to her feet. + +"You are wicked!" she cried. "Horrible! It can't be true that this has +happened to me. It's a nightmare. I want to wake up!" + +Severance abandoned his prayerful position and faced her. He would have +caught her hands, but she thrust him back with violence. + +"I thought you were a modern Englishman, like other Englishmen--like all +other decent men I've known. But you're not," she panted. "You're +something out of the Middle Ages. No! you're before that You're of +Ancient Rome--the time of the Borgias. Or Beatrice Cenci." + +"Don't, don't, Marise, my child!" Mary joined soothing with command. +"You'll make yourself ill. We must be calm. We must think." + +"Think?" the girl repeated. "What is there to think about? Surely you +don't suggest that I should 'reflect'--that I should study whether to +accept or not such a--bargain?" + +"That's a hard word!" Severance pleaded. "And as for Ancient Rome, I +should say that it and modern Britain--or France--or even your own +America--are the same at bed-rock. We're all volcanoes with our lava +cooled a bit on the surface by laws--or civilisation. Human passions +don't change; and the strongest of them is love. Anyhow, it is so with +me. I'm half Greek, you know, and my English half is half Spanish." + +"Dearest, when I tell you to 'think,' of course it depends on whether +you love Tony or not," Mary Sorel reminded her daughter. But even she +did not dare touch Marise at that moment. It would have been much like +trying to pat a young, unfed leopardess. She, always keeping on the +conventional side, had never before called Severance "Tony" to his face. +As a parched patch of earth thirstily sucks in the least drop of dew, he +caught at this sign of grace, and thanked his stars that he had made a +reckless bid for Mary's friendship. She adored England and old English +customs; above all, old English titles. In the midst of gratitude, the +man knew her for a snob, and counted on the sacrifice she would offer +the god of Snobbery. If anyone could help him, she could. If any counsel +could prevail with the hurt, humiliated, angry girl, it would be her +mother's. + +"Do you love him?" Mary persevered, when Marise kept silence behind a +bitten red lip. + +"I did love him. I thought I did." + +"Darling, I know you loved him, and do love him. You're suffering now. +But, remember poor Tony is suffering too." + +"Poor Tony!" + +"Yes, poor Tony. He has gone through a great deal, and has kept it in, +hoping against hope. He didn't speak out till there seemed to be no more +hope--except in this one way. I told you, even on shipboard, I felt he +was living under some strain. I'm a woman, and your mother. I'd be the +first on earth to resent the slightest insult to you, if it were meant. +But just because I'm a woman, who has lived through a woman's experience +of life and love--love of husband--love of child--I recognise sincerity +by instinct. Severance is truly sincere. He worships you, and if he has +been carried away, it is by worship. Don't drive him to desperation by +refusing to forgive him, whatever else you may decide to do." + +"It rests with you, Marise, whether I live or die," Severance was now +encouraged to plead. + +The girl's lips trembled. "Oh, if only I could wake up!" she cried. +Tears poured over her cheeks. Mary caught the shaking figure to her +breast. The two wept together. + +"We must--must face things!" Mary let herself sob. "I'm afraid we _are_ +awake--wider awake than we've ever been in our happy life these last +three years. We took the pleasant side of things for granted. As they +say over here, we're 'up against' the grim side now. If you love Tony +only half as much as he loves you, why, it seems to me you ought--indeed +it's your duty to your future--to think twice before sending him out +into darkness, with no light of hope." + +"Things like my plan often happen to people, just by accident," said +Tony. "A man who loves one girl has to marry another. His wife dies. +Meanwhile, the first girl has taken a husband--perhaps out of pique. +He's a rotter. She divorces him. Then the pair who've loved each other +are free to be happy ever after. If they're rich, too, so much the +better for them! They don't feel guilty. Why should they? They've +nothing to feel guilty about. Why should it be so appalling if a man, to +save his soul and his love, plans out something of this sort, instead of +blundering into it? I can't see any reason. Aren't you being a +Pharisee--or a hypocrite, Marise?" + +"Aren't _you_ being a Joseph Surface?" she flung back. "Perhaps I never +told you that I played 'Lady Teazle,' and got a prize at my dramatic +school. So I know all about the 'consciousness of innocence.'" + +The girl spoke stormily. Her eyes blazed at the man through tears. Yet +he and Mary both knew from her words--her tone--that in spite of herself +she had begun to "think." + +"Joseph Surface was a cold snake," said Tony. "At worst I'm not that, or +I wouldn't be ready to wade through fire and water to win you at last." + +"No, you're not a cold snake," Marise agreed. And the eyes of Severance +and Mrs. Sorel met, as the girl dashed a handkerchief across hers. +Mary's glance telegraphed Tony, "This sad business may come right, after +all!" "You had better leave us, my friend," she said aloud. "Marise and +I will at least talk this over--thrash it out, and----" + +"A thrashing is just what it deserves," the girl snapped. "A thorough +thrashing!" + +"It shall have it," Mums soothed her patiently. "But we may think----" + +"Even if we did think," Marise broke out, with a sudden flash at +Severance, "what good would it do? Even if I were willing--though I +can't conceive it! What use would that be? You can't kindle a fire +without a match. There isn't a man living who'd be the match. A dummy +match!" + +"You forget the million dollars," Severance said. + +"I don't. But you admitted yourself, he must at least seem a decent man, +or the scheme would fail. No decent man----" + +"Some smart actor who fancies himself, and dreams of having his own New +York theatre," cried Severance, inspired. "With a million dollars----" + +"He'd want me to stay on the stage and star with him----" + +"Well, then, some inventor who'd sell his soul to have his invention +taken up. A million dol----" + +The phrase called back an echo in the girl's mind. "I'd sell my soul!" +What man had used those words to her that day--an hour ago?... + +Marise laughed out aloud. "An inventor!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it's easy +to generalise--to suggest someone--anyone--vaguely, in a world of men. +But if I should name one--if I should say, 'Here's the man,' you would +shudder. The thought of him in flesh and blood as my husband--dummy or +no dummy--would drive you mad--if you really love me." + +"I wouldn't let it drive me mad," Severance swore. "I'd control +myself--and control the man, too." + +"You would? Suppose I name your _bête noire_, Major John Garth?" + +Severance withered visibly. "Garth wouldn't do it," he stammered. + +"There you are!" sneered Marise. But she began to experience a very +extraordinary sensation. It was composed of obstinacy, anger, vanity, +recklessness, resentment, and several fierce sub-emotions, none of which +she made the slightest effort to analyse. Tony Severance believed that +his passion for her excused everything, because he thought it stronger +than any other man living had ever felt. But there was another man, one +at least--who thought and said the same thing of himself. + +Much as Tony hated and pretended to despise John Garth, without stopping +to reflect an instant he set the Bounder aside as one among a few men +who wouldn't stoop--who couldn't be tempted--to play so low a part as +that of a "dummy husband." Was Tony right? Or was the man he discarded +the very one who would marry her at any price? Dimly she wondered in a +sullen and heavy curiosity. + +"There are plenty of other fellows--of sorts--to choose from, without +dragging in Garth," Severance went on. "Give me leave, Marise (give me +new life, by giving me leave!), to find such a man. If I must go without +finding one here, I will search England. Or I can put it in the hands +of----" + +"No!" shrilled Mary. "In no hands but our own." + +"I wash mine of it!" cried Marise. + +"Perhaps you will think it over--the pros and cons--with me, dear," +coaxed her mother. "The wonderful future you could have with Tony, when +the clouds should pass and all those millions----" + +The girl shrugged her shoulders. And turning without another word, she +whirled away to her room. It would not have been true to nature if she +hadn't slammed the door! + +Mary prepared to follow. "Go, Tony," she ordered. "Leave the poor child +to me. All this is awful--terrible! But it isn't as if we were wishing +for Miss Ionides' death. If she's doomed.... Oh, I hear Marise crying! +Go at once--please!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE THING SHE COULD NOT EXPLAIN + + +Marise and Mary Sorel talked late that night in the girl's room. The +family breadwinner--always indulged--had not been so petted, so spoiled, +since she was threatened with _grippe_ in the first week of her great +London triumph. In those days she had shone as a bright planet rather +than a fixed star. The proud but anxious mother had feared that some +understudy might mine the new favourite's success, as Marise had mined +the toppling fame of Elsa Fortescue. The invalid had been surrounded +with the warmth of mother-love, caressed, almost hypnotised back to +health, and after a worrying day of high temperature had been encouraged +to the theatre without giving the understudy even one night's chance. +This, although that young woman was dressed and painted for the part! + +So it was again on this fateful Sunday in New York, although the most +wily Vivien of an understudy could now safely be defied. + +Mary went in to Marise the moment Severance had gone. She kissed and +cooed over her child. She flattered her. She told her that she was +beautiful and brave--_too_ beautiful! Men loved her too much. Mums +warded off an impending attack of hysterics which Marise had been +longing to have, and would have enjoyed. She said that her girl's tears +burned her heart. She kept Céline away and undressed Marise herself, +with purrings and pettings as if the girl had been three instead of +twenty-three. + +Never was a bed so sweetly smoothed to the downiness of a swan's breast! +The pillows were plumped almost with a prayer, that they might yield +soft rest to the aching head. Finally, Marise--conscious of all Mums' +guile, yet dreamily content with it--was tucked in between the scented +sheets, her "nighty" put on by Mums; her long hair brushed and braided +by Mums, as no French maid could ever braid or brush. + +"Don't think of anything yet," the loving voice soothed. "Just bask, and +let your poor old Mums watch over you. Forget you're grown up. Be +Mummie's baby girl again." + +Marise was not of a temperament to hold out against these charms and +woven spells. She cuddled down in bed, and felt an angel child. When +Mums herself brought in a tray containing a few exquisite little dishes, +she ate, though she had expected--even intended--to starve herself for +days. Then when one glass of iced champagne (she didn't touch wine twice +a year) and a tiny cup of Turkish coffee had brightened her spirits, +"poor old Mums" (looking thirty-five at most, and mild as a trained +dove) brought cigarettes for both. After that, they drifted into talk of +the future, rather than driving stormily into the teeth of it, like +tempest-tossed leaves. + +Mary confessed that, if she were in her daughter's place, it would be +anguish to give up such a wonderful, gorgeous young man. And then, he +was so handsome! No one could compare with him in looks. What eyes! They +were pools of ink, on fire! She had never known what tragedy human eyes +could express till she had gazed into those of Lord Severance to-day. +They had frightened her! If she hadn't sent the man away with a grain of +hope she believed that by this time he would be dead, his brains blown +out. One didn't take such threats from most people seriously. But Tony +was different. It was true, as he said; love was his life--love for this +one dear girl. What Mums felt was, that _she_ couldn't have resisted +him, at her daughter's age. Few women could. Few women would! + +By this time, Marise being ready for arguments, her mother engaged in a +fencing match, at first with a button on her foil, then with the point +gleaming bare. Boldly she talked of what Severance (enriched by his +uncle and a dead wife's will) would have to offer. Was he, and all that +would be his, to be thrown away for a scruple? A millionaire earl? A +unique person? + +About two a.m. Marise agreed to Mary's many-times-reiterated wish that +she would "think things over"; and promptly fell into a sleep so sound +that she looked like a beautiful dead girl. + +Miss Marks was sent away next morning by Mrs. Sorel, because "My +daughter has had a bad night, and mustn't be disturbed." It was not +until eleven o'clock that Marise waked suddenly in her darkened room, as +if a voice had called her name. She sat up in bed, dazed. Whose voice +was it? Or was it only a voice in a dream? Thinking back, it came to her +that she had been dreaming of John Garth--"Samson." With an "Oh!" that +revolted against life as it must be lived, she flung herself down again, +and remembered everything. For an hour her body lay motionless: but mind +and soul moved far. When Mums tapped lightly at the door, and peeped in +to inquire, "Do you feel like waking up, pet, and having me bring you a +cup of delicious hot coffee? It's twelve o'clock!" she answered quietly, +"Yes, I've been awake a long time. I'd love some coffee." + +Mary brought it herself--and a covered plate of buttered toast. She +asked no question except, "Is your head better, darling?" until pale, +composed Marise had bathed, and been dressed with the aid of Céline. +Then Mums chirped cheerfully, "Well, what are you going to do to-day? +Anything important?" + +"It may be important," said Marise. "I don't know yet--till I've talked +with him. It depends on what he says. He may say nothing. He may just +bash me over the head and stalk away. He'd be capable of that." + +"What do you mean?" Mary implored. "Are you speaking of Tony?" + +"Oh no! Of a very different man. Of Major Garth." + +"Marise! What are you going to do?" + +The girl turned from her dressing-table to face her mother. "What you've +been goading me on, all last night, to do. What I shall be perfectly mad +if I _do_ do! Now, please, don't say any more--unless you want me to +scream. I'm keeping myself calm. I'd better stay calm--till after." + +Mary's breast heaved. She breathed back her emotions, as one checks a +cough. "You--talk the way you sometimes do after a dress rehearsal!" she +tried to laugh. "Before a big first night." + +"That's the way I feel," said Marise. "Like before the biggest first +night that ever was. Or before the Judgment Day." + +She knew that John Garth was staying at the Belmore. She had seen that +item in the papers--had seen it in the same day's papers which had +informed Garth that Miss Sorel was an actress. The girl began a letter, +but tore it up. Then she thought of the telephone. Two minutes later she +heard Garth's voice: "Hello! who is this talking?" + +"Marise Sorel--calling you from the Plaza. Can you come over?" + +"Yes. When?" + +"Now." + +"I'll be there as soon as a taxi can bring me." + +"Good!" + +Yet she knew that it was far from good. + + * * * * * + +"The Spring Song!--The Spring Song!" + +The name of Marise Sorel's play sang itself over and over in Garth's +brain to wild, strange music, as the taxi flashed him to the Plaza; for +there was spring in the air, in the bursting buds on the trees in the +park--and in his breast. She must have changed her mind. She must mean +to give him some hope, or she wouldn't have sent for him to come back. +That would be too cruel--even for her, as he had thought her yesterday, +when there was no spring, only winter in his heart and soul. + +It was not till he had been rushed up in the lift, and a page-boy had +knocked at the door, that the hope seemed too good to be true. Perhaps +she merely wished to apologise for being rude? Yet--even that would be +better than nothing. It was what he hadn't dared expect--being sent for +again. He had resolved to see her in spite of herself, but she was +making things easy. This time, not Céline, but Marise herself opened the +door. The sight of her gave the man a shock of joy, though she hardly +looked him in the face. + +"You're very kind to be so prompt," she glossed over the surface of +their emotions. "Come in. I--I've something special to say to you." + +"So I judged," he helped her out. + +"We shan't be disturbed by anyone to-day. I've arranged that." + +"I'm glad." + +She sat down with her back to the light and made him take a chair facing +the window. He knew too little of women to realise that this was +deliberate; but he noticed that she seemed more of a woman, less of a +girl to-day. Perhaps, he thought, this was because she wore a black +dress. It was filmy and becoming to her fairness; but it made her +graver, more dignified. As for Marise, she liked his looks better this +afternoon. He had not had time to "dress himself up"; and his morning +suit of tweed was not objectionable. She remembered once arguing with +Severance that the "Blighter" might be distinguished-looking, even +handsome, if decently dressed. She was in a fair way to be proved right +to-day, but she was in no mood for self-congratulation. The man's +personality didn't matter in the least, she told herself. Yet she was +subconsciously burning with curiosity concerning him. + +"First of all--before we start on our real talk, I'd like to ask you a +question," she began. "Did you send Miss Marks here, to--" ("to spy," +she had almost said!)--"to try and get work as my secretary?" + +"I did not," promptly replied Garth. + +"But you knew her--before yesterday." + +"I knew her out in Arizona, before the war. She'd written me since she +was working at the Belmore. That was how I happened to think of going +there before I went over to England in 1914. She's a good stenographer, +and a good girl. Since I landed she's done a lot of letters for me, and +done them very well." + +"She's clever!" admitted Marise. "I asked, because I never quite +understood now she happened to come here to see if I wanted a secretary. +Besides, there's something in her manner--the way she looks at me--I +hardly know what--but as if she had reasons of her own for being +interested----" + +"Perhaps she had. And perhaps it's my fault," Garth spoke out. "You see, +I'd set my heart on sending you a few presents, something not just +ordinary. It popped into my head to do that the day I landed. Reading +about you in the papers gave me the idea. But it didn't seem easy, when +it came to choosing. Miss Marks began work for me that same afternoon, +for I had a heap of back correspondence, and I hate writing. I couldn't +keep my mind on the dictation for wondering what I could send you, +different from everything and better than anything. That's how I said to +myself, 'Why not ask Zélie Marks what there is to buy in New York?' And +that is what I did." + +"I thought as much!" exclaimed Marise. + +"But I didn't tell her about you. I didn't mention who the things were +for. I just described the lady. I said, 'She's beautiful, with golden +hair and blue eyes, and dark eyelashes and dazzling white skin. She's +tall and slender, and I expect she's rich and has everything she wants. +The things I'd like to give her must be so new she hasn't had time to +want them yet, but so stunning she won't know how she lived without +'em.' Miss Marks hit on the right stunt from the first. Your name has +never been spoken between us till yesterday, when we went out of this +room together. I suppose you believe me, don't you?" + +"Yes, I believe you," Marise grudged. "Miss Marks simply guessed. But I +wonder how? Could she have seen your theatre tickets--seats for every +performance of 'The Song'?" + +"By George, yes! She may--must have done. I ordered them the first day +at my hotel. They were in a bunch, tickets for three weeks, fastened +with an elastic band, on the desk where she worked. I've got a private +sitting-room, like a howling swell." + +"So Miss Marks chose all those exquisite things!" + +"She told me about 'em, and where to look. Then I went, and picked out +in my mind's eye what I wanted. I always had a messenger-boy waiting in +a taxi, and sent him in to buy, and pay on the spot, for fear someone +else should jump in ahead. That kept up the mystery. I didn't care to +have you find out at once that the things came from me. I was afraid it +would queer the whole business for you." + +"So it would!" Marise might have capped him. But she did not. Instead, +she asked, "But surely you meant me to know sooner or later--or where +would be the fun?" + +"There was plenty of fun in sending the presents and knowing the secret +myself," said Garth. "Silly, I guess! But there it was! And--I might as +well tell you now--I did kind of hope you'd try to get at the truth, one +way or another, just from pure devilment." + +"You were right. I did! 'Just from pure devilment.' In the same way that +Miss Marks got work with me. She must have been enjoying herself these +days!" + +"She's a nice girl," Garth defended the absent. + +"Oh, I don't mean to discharge her. There's no reason why I should. +She's useful to me. I shan't seem to know anything about this. But I +wanted to ask you." + +"I'm mighty pleased you did," said the man. "I'd have been--just what +your friend calls me, if I'd sent her to get an engagement with you." + +Colour stole into Marise's pale cheeks. She had been more interested in +the subject of her secretary's connection with Garth than she had +expected to be when bringing it up, and for a few minutes had actually +forgotten the loathed burden on her heart. + +"Let's say no more about Miss Marks!" the girl exclaimed. "My inviting +you to call to-day had nothing to do with her. I only thought I'd--clear +the air." + +"Is it cleared now?" Garth wanted to know. "I hope it is. If not----" + +"Oh, it is--quite!" + +"Then you're ready to tell me the real thing you have to say?" + +"Ye--es.... Only I...." She paused. Her lips had gone so dry that she +could hardly speak. Her brain felt dry, too--desiccated. She had not +thought it would be like this. Stage-fright--the worst attack of +stage-fright she could remember--had not been worse. Yet she cared +little or nothing for this man's opinion, she reminded herself, except +as it concerned the plan. "I--it's very difficult." + +"Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered eagerly. + +Marise caught at his words. "That's just it! There's a very big thing +you can do to help." + +"You know I'll do it," Garth volunteered. "You know that, because +there's nothing I wouldn't do. I told you so yesterday." + +"If you hadn't, I should not have sent for you to-day." + +"I wish you wanted me to kill somebody for you." (She guessed, by the +fierce gleam in his eyes, what "body"!) "I'd go to 'the chair' singing." + +"Oh!" she laughed feebly. "It's not as bad as that." (But wasn't it?) +"You--you said several things here yesterday afternoon. One was, that +you----" + +"That I love you! Was that what you mean?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, it's the same to-day. Only more so." + +"Even after--I'm afraid I was very selfish and thoughtless. I wasn't as +nice to you as I ought to have been, after I'd got you to come, +and--and----" + +"You weren't nice to me at all," Garth gave her the truth bluntly. "I +went away trying to hate you, but I didn't bring it off. Hate, if it +starts from love, is a good deal like a boomerang, I guess. It comes +back to what it was born from. And the friction stirs up the flame till +it's hotter. Now, tell me that thing I can do for you. Because the +quicker I hear what it is, the quicker I can set about it." + +Marise threw up her head and drew in a long breath. She might have done +the same if she had come, with a running jump, to the edge of a +precipice. + +"Would you--like to marry me?" she gasped. + +The man bounded from his chair, and with a stride landed himself beside +her. He had knocked over a smaller chair on the way, but this time he +was untroubled by his clumsiness. He grabbed, rather than took, the +girl's hand. She was afraid he would drop on his knees, and that would +have been more than she could bear, because it was what Severance had +done. But this stiff-backed soldier kept to his feet. He held her hand +high, so high that the blood drained from it to her heart, and the +little hand was white in his (save for the pink, polished nails) as a +marble model. "You've changed your mind?" he asked hoarsely--because his +mouth, too, was suddenly dry. "You know I love you more than any other +man could. So you think, after all, you might grow to care?" + +"It isn't that," she had to tell him. "I haven't--exactly--changed my +mind. This hasn't anything to do with 'caring.' Only, if you do love +me--as much as you say--you might be willing..." She could not finish. +She felt his fingers suddenly tighten on hers, then loose them, as if he +would dash her hand away. He did not do this. But, looking up, the girl +saw that the man's face was scarlet. She even thought that a few beads +of sweat had broken out on his forehead. What had she said to move him +like that? "Why, she hadn't even begun! + +"What is it?" she inquired. "What is it you think I mean?" Her eyes were +large and innocent as a child's. + +The blood ebbed slowly from the weathered face. "Whatever I thought, I +don't think it now," he said harshly. "No one could, and look at you. Go +on." + +"But," she argued, "perhaps what you thought was right. I can't be sure, +unless you tell me." + +"I'd sooner die than tell you." + +"Well, then I had better try and tell you what I do mean. After that you +can see if your thought was the same. If so, and you feel it is so +dreadful, you may go, and turn your back on me without another word." + +"No, I wouldn't turn my back on you. Not even for that--now." The words +left his lips heavily, like falling stones; and there was a strange look +in his face. If it had come there in battle, it might have meant +desperate courage which nothing could daunt and would have brought him a +bar for his Victoria Cross. But being in a hotel salon, with no enemy +present more dangerous than a beautiful young girl, it was only mulish. + +"Would you want to marry me if I didn't love you one bit, and if +we--didn't live together, except as friends? You and mother and I, all +in the same house?" + +He did not answer for a moment. Then he rapped out, "Do you need a +husband to protect you--against some danger?" + +Marise shook her head. "It isn't so romantic as that. No one is +persecuting me. I--cared a little for somebody. I thought maybe he and I +might be married. But things have altered with him. He has to marry a +very rich girl. I haven't got money enough, it seems--although he loves +me." + +"The damned brute!" burst from Garth. (He knew who the "brute" was, well +enough.) + +"Don't call him that," Marise pleaded. "I understand how things are with +him. But----" + +"I suppose people have coupled your names. Good God, I'm thankful you +sent for me! No one shall ever say he jilted you. It shall be the other +way round. When will you marry me, girl?" + +It was a new and piercing thought to Marise that, if Severance went home +immediately and married his cousin, people would suppose she had been +jilted. She, so sensitive to every breeze which blew praise or blame, +ought to have realised that this would be the case. + +Strange that it needed a blundering fellow like John Garth to point out +the peril. The girl saw at once that it was a real one. She shrank from +the prospect as from a lash. She could hear the "cats" who had already +been "horrid" in England, and the cats awaiting their chance to be +horrid in New York, mewing with joy over this creamy dish of scandal. + +"I told you how it would be! As soon as he got the title, and a little +money with it, he threw her over!" + +In a flash she saw a second motive for her marriage with Garth, if +Severance were to marry OEnone Ionides. She must marry someone, and +she hadn't the heart just now to pick and choose as, of course, she +could do, given a little time. Prickling with shame over the explanation +which she tried stumblingly to make, her impulse was to catch at the one +Garth offered. Why not, since now that she thought of it, his point of +view was hers? Pain would be saved for both. And she realised that she +could not blurt out the naked truth in words. It seemed to her that, if +she attempted to do so, this rude giant, this primitive man in New York +"ready-mades," would kill her, as he had already suggested killing +Severance. + +"Then you consent?" she took him up. + +"Consent? What do you think of me? Yes, I consent." + +"Only to be friends? You understand that part?" + +"I agree to that, to begin with. Because I'm so mad about you. I'd take +you at any price." + +"To 'begin with'?" + +"Till I can make you care. I'm a man and you're a woman. And the rest +may come. I'll chance it." + +"No. You mustn't hope for that. It won't come. I don't want it to come." + +"Hope isn't easy to kill. If it was, I guess the war wouldn't have ended +the way it has. You don't know how I love you. Why, the thought even of +calling you 'my wife' is--is a kind of glorious shell-shock." + +He laughed out, shyly yet violently, like a boy: and of a sudden Marise +felt sick with guilt. "I mustn't let you be happy!" she cried. + +"Why not? You needn't grudge me that. But you haven't named the day +yet--Marise. Lord! The thrill it gives me to say 'Marise' to your +face--the way I've been saying it behind your back." + +"You make me feel--a little beast!" The words spoke themselves, straight +out of her conscience. "I can't fix a time yet, because--if I'd +explained to you properly you mightn't have decided as you have. And +it's no use trying any more. I can't do it. Oh!" (as she saw his face +flush again, and pale to a sickly brown) "perhaps I see what was in your +head at first--what's come back there now. But I'm not so much of a +beast as that. My wishing to marry someone has nothing to do with the +past. No, the reason's all mixed up with the future. You could never +guess. I could never explain. And I couldn't let you marry me unless +everything had been explained. I thought for a minute I could--and I +wanted to--but I find I'm not like that. Tony--Lord Severance--must +explain. Yes, of course. When I've telephoned--no, written to him--he +will do it. I haven't really spoken to him of you yet. He doesn't even +know that--you care about me. If I make an appointment, will you call at +the Waldorf, where he is staying?" + +"No!" Garth exploded. "That I will not do. I'll see Severance, if you +insist. I'll keep an appointment at any time. But it must be at my +hotel. I'm damned if I'll call on him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE + + +The note Marise meant to write was not written; for, as the door of the +suite shut behind John Garth, Mrs. Sorel came to the girl with news. + +"Dear child, I promised you shouldn't be disturbed, whatever happened, +but Tony has been telephoning for the sixth time to-day. Poor boy! He's +very anxious about you. Don't look so cynical! If your face should ever +settle into lines like that, your beauty would be gone! This time he +wanted to know if you're better for your long sleep, and if you can see +him." + +"No, I can't, mother! Not till something's decided. I simply can't act +to-night if I have to go through another scene with him." + +"Oh, I'm not suggesting it, pet! I merely wanted to know what I should +say to poor Tony. I told him that I'd call him up and give him his +answer when you were free." + +Marise started. "Did you say who was here with me?" + +"Ye-es, I thought it would be best. I imagined you must be very sure the +man was--the one we're in search of." + +The girl shivered. "Marise in Search of a Husband! We never expected it +would come to that with me, did we, Mums? But anyhow, I hadn't to search +far. That's one consolation! I was snapped up the minute I appeared in +the show window." + +"Well, Tony was wrong about that Garth man, then!" + +"Yes, he was wrong. I must write and let him know why Garth came--unless +you told him why?" + +"I said only what I dared say through the telephone. You know how +careful I am of anything that concerns you. What I told him was, 'Major +G----' (not even Garth!) 'has come to talk over that proposition you +thought he wouldn't accept. His staying so long makes me fancy he may be +accepting after all.' That is every word." + +"Good! I shan't need to write! Please 'phone again, Mums, and explain +that I don't feel as if I could see Tony till after the theatre. He may +come to my dressing-room a few minutes then, if he likes. You can bring +him in. I won't be alone with him for an instant! Tell him that I talked +with Garth, who's inclined to accept. But I left it to him--Tony--to +make matters clear, and he must telephone Garth for an appointment at +the Belmore--not the Waldorf." + +"Severance to go to Garth! He'll refuse----" + +"Then the whole thing is off!" Marise threw out her arms in a gesture of +exasperation. "He can take the offer or leave it." + +Mary said no more, but flew to the 'phone in her own room, with the door +shut between. Presently she came back. "Tony has consented," she +announced. "Another proof of his great love!" + + * * * * * + +Never had Lord Severance felt that he appeared to less advantage than +when he was shown into the Bounder's sitting-room at the Belmore Hotel. +He held himself very straight, however, and was every inch an Ancient +Greek, if not an English earl. + +Garth had been engaged in writing a letter and puffing smoke over it +from a meerschaum pipe some shades browner than his face. + +At sight of Severance, and the sound of his name deformed by a page-boy, +the big man rose, topping his tall guest in height and erectness. + +"Well?" was his only greeting, as the door closed. He pushed a box of +cigarettes across the table. "Those are the smokes you prefer, I +believe." + +"Thanks. I have my own. And my own matches." + +"All right." Garth continued to puff at his pipe. + +"You have seen Miss Sorel, I understand." + +"That is so." + +"She--or rather Mrs. Sorel--'phoned me that--er--though you'd had some +conversation, the--affair hadn't been entirely explained to you. That's +as it should be. It's my business, and my place, to explain it." + +"Fire away. Do you want to sit down?" + +"I prefer to stand." + +"My sentiments!" + +Severance lit a cigarette, and took some time in the process. + +"It's rather a long story," he drawled, not with a conscious desire to +put on airs, but because his wasn't an easy task, with that bounder's +yellow eyes pinning him down, never off his face for a second. + +"I'm afraid, to make you understand and prevent your doing an injustice +to Miss Sorel, I'll have to bore you, in beginning, with a short résumé +of my personal history." + +"Spit it out. Though you needn't fear my doing that lady an injustice. +It would take something worse than a lack of tact on your part, or any +man's, to make me such a fool." + +"Glad you feel so about it" + +"So am I. Shoot!" + +Thus prodded without ceasing, Severance began the tale. He told about +his half-uncle, and his half-uncle's daughter. Whether it was OEnone's +state of invalidism or the state of her affections which drew from +Garth, a grunt of "Poor girl!" Tony was not sure. But, in the +circumstances, the less notice he took of disturbing trifles the better. +He stated his case with as much care as if he had been pleading in +court, as his own defender. In fact, he had rehearsed some sentences +hastily on his way from the Waldorf to the Belmore. Yet those eyes of +Garth's were as disconcerting as the watchful eyes of an uncaged +panther, alleged to be tame. Severance forgot the words he had thought +of, and had to substitute others not so effective. With the most earnest +wish to cut the best figure possible, for dear dignity's sake, he felt +himself floundering more than once. At least, however, he did not break +down. Somehow he got to his goal, and knew that even a boor like Garth +could not fail to see what--if he took on the job--was required of him. + +"So that's that!" Tony finished, and threw away his cigarette. + +He had not been looking at the other man much as he talked. It was +easier and pleasanter not to do so; but, despite Garth's silence (not +once had he interrupted with a question or exclamation), Severance +wasn't quite sure how this type of fellow would act in the +circumstances. + +Of course, the bare hint that he might accept such a part would be the +last of insults to a proud man--a gentleman. Garth, however, was merely +a "temporary gentleman," and probably hadn't saved a sou. To a person of +his sort, a million dollars would be a dazzling bribe. Still, the brute +had an ugly temper, as he had shown once or twice in the past, and he +was capable of violence. Tony was doubtful, still, how to take him. +Common as the Bounder was, his brother officer had vaguely placed him a +peg above this level. The black eyes made a sudden effort to dominate +the yellow-grey ones and read their secret, in order--if need be--to +ward away a blow. + +But there was no such need, it seemed. Garth stood with feet apart, +always doggedly puffing at his pipe, hands thrust deep in pockets. He +had produced a cloud of smoke as dense as that which emanated from a +Geni of the Lamp, and Severance could not pierce to his expression. + +For a minute neither spoke. Then Garth brought forth from the depths a +hand, removed the meerschaum from his mouth, and, having knocked out the +ash, lovingly laid the pipe on the mantelpiece. + +Severance stood alert, prepared for what might come. But nothing came. + +"What did Miss Sorel say about me?" Garth bluntly questioned. "I mean +yesterday or to-day." + +"We have scarcely mentioned you when we were together. I told you it was +her mother who telephoned me. There has been no other communication on +the subject. I hope I've made it plain to you that Mrs. Sorel approves +this plan." + +"Plain as a pikestaff. She would approve of it, or any plan of yours. I +should judge she's that kind of a person. She thinks her daughter born +for the English aristocracy and millions. Then I'm to understand that +the ladies gave you no reason for believing me the man--to take this +on?" + +"They went into no details. Miss Marks may have led them----" + +"We can drop the subject. All I wanted to know is what they said, not +what they thought. Well, a million dollars is quite a wad! And every man +has his price. I'd do a lot for a million. But in this case----" + +"Yes?" + +"I ask you to raise your bid if you wish to buy yours truly." + +"Oh, if it's a question of a few thousands----" + +"It isn't. I'll take the rest of the payment in another medium. Not +money. And I want it in advance." + +"What d'you want?" + +"You're a boxer, I believe?" + +"Not bad." + +"Heavy-weight, of course!" + +"Yes." + +"So am I. Jim Jackson trained me, and taught me most of what I know." + +"Ah! I've heard of him." + +"Most men have." + +"What are you leading up to?" + +"My advance payment for the job. I take it on only upon that one +condition." + +"I don't fully understand." + +"Well, as I just said, a million's quite a wad, and I, like every man, +have my price. Also, I've my pride. Now, you don't know the reasons I +may have for deciding to pocket that pride at the same time with your +millions. Take it that they're mercenary. What does it matter to you? +But even a gilded pill slips down easier in jam. The jam I want is a +round or two with you, man to man, no gloves. Now d'you understand?" + +"You want to fight me?" + +"A little round, I said. We ought to be pretty evenly matched." + +"It seems to me a very childish idea," said Severance. + +"May be it is. But it's my idea. And those are my terms. Refuse or +accept." + +Severance fingered his moustache in the way he had. "When do you want to +do this damned fool thing, and in what circumstances?" he hedged. + +"Now. Circumstances those of the present minute. We can take off our +coats. I suppose you don't wear corsets?" + +Severance deigned no answer to this taunt. He thought hard for an +instant. He was a good boxer, and had been complimented before the war +by Carpentier himself. Garth was unlikely to be his equal. If the ass +wanted to work off steam and save his beastly face this silly way, let +him! + +"If I consent to fight, you consent to--er----" + +"Yes, whether you or I get the best of this." + +"Done, then!" + +They tore off their coats, collars, neckties, and waist-coats. Garth had +a sullen, ugly grin on his face as he pushed back the table and cleared +the room. Severance did not know what to make of the man, but had +confidence in himself. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later the telephone-bell rang in Mrs. Sorel's room. She was +putting on hat and coat to go to the theatre with Marise, but she ran to +take up the receiver. + +"Is that your voice, Lord Severance--Tony? Why, I wasn't sure at first," +she answered an indistinct murmur at the other end. "You sound +different, somehow! What? You've had a fall? Loosened a front tooth? Oh, +my poor dear boy--your beautiful white teeth! Marise will shed tears. Of +course, you mustn't leave your rooms to-night.... Indeed, you must be +sure he's the best dentist in New York. He'll fix you up in no time.... +Why, yes, I suppose I can run in, without Marise, just for a minute ... +if it would comfort you at all.... The man Gar--said 'yes'? Well, that's +a consolation! You settled the whole thing before your accident? But +you'll tell me the story when I come." + + * * * * * + +For the first time, Garth did not go to the theatre that night. Never +had he felt more physically fit, but he did not wish to see Marise. He +felt that he would not be master of himself, through her "great scene" +in the last act. He would want to spring on the stage and choke her. As +he thought this, he looked at his knuckles. They were cracked and +bruised, but the sight did not displease him. He stretched out his arms +wide in a sweeping gesture, his hands spread palm upwards. + +"God!" he said. "I've got my chance. To punish him. To punish her, too. +Why not? The devil knows how well she deserves it. And yet--I don't +know. We shall see!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +"HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT, TOO!" + + +While two men thought violently of Marise Sorel, she lay in bed as night +wore on, intent upon thinking of one of them, and inadvertently thinking +of both. + +Severance hadn't shown himself at the theatre because, thanks to Garth, +he was not looking his best. Neither was Garth, who, on the contrary, +looked and felt his worst. Unlike Severance, however, he had very little +personal vanity; and a black eye or so would not have prevented him from +going as usual to gaze at "Dolores." He did not go because he didn't +wish to go. + +Smoking pipe after pipe, he prowled up and down his own sitting-room far +into the night, much to the annoyance of a lady on the floor below. He +mapped out a future full of revenges; and if "thoughts were things," his +must have hurled themselves like Mills bombs into Marise's room, to +burst at the foot of her bed. He did not flatter himself that they would +reach so far; yet possibly it was some disturbing telepathic influence +which forced Marise to think of Garth as often as of Severance, almost +as often as she thought of herself. + +She thought with fury of Severance, with extraordinary curiosity of +Garth, and with pitying forgiveness of herself. + +Of course, she knew that she was behaving, or planning possibly to +behave, in a way which should bow her head with shame. Perhaps she was a +little ashamed. At all events, she wouldn't have liked people to know +what she contemplated doing, and with what motive. They might +misunderstand. They might think her a bad lot, whereas she was not a bad +lot, but a charming, cruelly-wounded girl who had to defend herself at +almost any price. + +Well, she wasn't claiming to be an _angel_! She'd hate to be one. It +would be too dull. But she was just as far from being a "Vamp," or even +a sort of up-to-date Becky Sharp. Becky Sharp had no heart. She, Marise, +had too much. That was the trouble. She was hurt, hurt through and +through! She'd go mad if she didn't do something desperate. + +To marry this Garth man--actually _marry_ him!--would be desperate +enough. She'd said that she'd do it. She had--yes, actually proposed to +him. But she could change her mind. Surely he wouldn't be surprised if +she did. And if he were surprised it didn't matter, except that--he was +such a strange sort of fellow, he might _kill_ her! It was rather a +wonder he hadn't killed Tony--or tried to. She would somehow have +fancied he was that _sort_! But she must have been mistaken in him. Mums +said that Tony'd said (through the 'phone) that Garth had accepted the +promise of a million dollars for--for being what she'd herself invited +him to be: her "dummy" husband. + +What was his motive? Was it what she had actually believed: that he +loved her so wildly he'd do _anything_ to get her? Or was Tony right; +had every man his price in hard cash? + +Marise sat up in bed. She couldn't lie still! + +"By Jove, I wouldn't do such a thing if I were a man!" she nobly felt. +"Not if I loved a girl. I wouldn't have her on such terms. Which is it +with Garth?" + +There it was again! She couldn't banish him from her thoughts. His big +image blocked out that of Severance. But then, she wasn't curious +concerning Severance. She knew all about his motives. + +"I won't do the beastly thing!" she said out aloud, or almost aloud. If +it had been quite, it might have brought Mums flying helpfully in from +the next room, and Marise didn't want Mums at this moment. "I didn't +mean it really, even at first." + +Then she reminded herself that it wouldn't _kill_ her if people did +think that Lord Severance had jilted her. She needn't marry out of pique +because of a nine days' wonder like that. She had had plenty of +proposals (though nothing quite so exciting as Tony, perhaps), and she +was bound to have plenty more. Some millionaire would come +along--someone she could bring herself to tolerate as a real husband, +and so break Tony's heart, as he deserved. Till one worth taking +appeared, she would remain free. + +As for the title--well, Mums had always cared more about that than she +had, though, of course, it would be nice to marry an earl--especially +such a unique sort of earl as Tony Severance. + +As Mums said, "Tony _was_ unique." He was so fearfully, frightfully +good-looking. Such lots of girls wanted him. They had all envied her. If +she lost him, they wouldn't envy her any more. They'd pity her. Ugh! +They'd say, "Poor Marise Sorel thought she'd got him, but he slipped +away and married his rich cousin." + +This brought her down to bed-rock again. _Should_ she carry out the +Plan, and make Tony hers in the end--which he vowed was very near? + +There were quite a lot of earls; but none like Tony. She'd had, and +would have, other chances. But not to touch Tony. There _wasn't_ +anything to touch Tony! And with all that money he'd talked about, he'd +be a multi-millionaire. The whole world would be hers as his wife. +Yet--there was "many a slip 'twixt cup and lip." Just supposing--oh +well, she wouldn't think of it any more. It was maddening, agonising. +She'd go to sleep and decide--_actually_ decide--in the morning! + +Marise flung herself down desperately, and burying her hot head in the +cool pillows, she forced herself not to think. + + * * * * * + +When she waked, it was with the sensation that something hateful had +happened or was going to happen. + +What was it? _Oh!_... + +The girl remembered the horrid thing, and how she had decided to keep +free and punish Tony. Or had she quite decided? Hadn't she put off +deciding? + +How dull as lead it would be to give up this tremendous adventure to +which she'd impulsively pledged--_almost_ pledged!--herself! It might be +a shocking and repulsive thing to do if some people did it, but it +wouldn't, of course, be so with her. + +Lots of people had said that "Dolores" was a coarse, unpleasant part +when Elsa Fortescue had played it, but no one had said such a word when +she had taken it over. On the contrary! + +As this thought passed through her badly aching head, Marise dimly +realised that marriage with Major Garth--accepting him as a dummy +husband, having to fight him, perhaps; "seeing what he would do," +whether he would try the old Claude Melnotte or Petruchio stuff, or +whether he'd work up new business of his own--would be quite the most +exacting emotional part for which she'd ever been cast. + +Suddenly she saw how she could punish Tony severely, even though she +fell in with his plans; how she could have that satisfaction, and at the +same time the satisfaction of not losing him. + +"It's like having your cake and eating it too!" she thought. + +She _would_ marry Garth. She'd marry him soon--_much_ sooner than Tony +meant--as soon as a license could be got. She'd send for Garth and tell +him so. She'd say _she_ knew no more about marriage licenses than dog +licenses. That sounded rather smart! He must find out and arrange +everything. The quicker the better. Tony shouldn't hear a thing about it +till too late. Then he would be _sick_! And in this way _he_ would seem +to be the jilted one. Splendid! His trip to England would be torture. +And she'd make it a little worse by flirting with Garth under his nose +before he sailed! + +It was scarcely light when she settled all this. Then she could hardly +wait till it was time to get up. + +Strange! To many people this would be a day like any other! To Céline, +to Zélie Marks--ah, _Zélie Marks_! + +The eyes of Marise flashed like blue stars in the dawn. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?" + + +Miss Marks was punctual that morning, as usual. + +She looked like a creature of moods and storms and sudden revolts, but +her behaviour as a typist-stenographer belied her appearance as a woman. +Not only was she always on time, but she was invariably correct in her +deportment. Yes, "deportment" was the word! No other would have enough +dignity to express Miss Marks. + +As a rule, Mrs. Sorel came into the salon soon after the arrival of the +secretary, leaving no idle interval after the preparation of paper, +pencils, and sorting of letters. Zélie Marks remembered only one +occasion when Miss Sorel had appeared before her mother. That was the +day when she was anxious to find a certain letter in the bulky pile of +correspondence, and make sure that no eye spied it save her own. + +Zélie happened to be thinking of that affair to-day, when the door of +Marise's bedroom opened and a Vision showed itself upon the threshold. +"Good morning, Miss Marks," it said. + +"Good morning, Miss Sorel," echoed its paid employée. + +The said employée would not have been human had she never felt qualms of +envy of the Vision. Sometimes it was merely a negative discomfort like a +grumbling tooth that doesn't quite ache. Sometimes it was sharply +positive; and this was such a moment. Queer! Zélie always envied Marise +most when she saw the girl in what Mrs. Sorel called "undress uniform." + +There were few young women even among wage-earners who couldn't make a +fairly brave show in a neat tailor gown or a "Sunday best" for Church +Parade. But only the Truly Rich could have such heavenly "undies," and +only the young and lovely--lovely of figure as well as of face--could +look in them more thrilling than the wondrous wax ladies in shop +windows, or the willowy dreams of line-artists in fashion magazines. + +Zélie had never had, and felt that she never would have (though she was +sure she _ought_ to have!) such things as Marise Sorel wore in her +bedroom. They were utterly absurd, almost indecent, she told herself. +What could be more idiotic for cold weather than a pale pink, +low-necked, short-sleeved chiffon nightgown, with the only solid thing +about it a few embroidered wild roses! What more brainless than a _robe +de chambre_ of deeper pink silk georgette, trimmed with sable fur in all +the places where fur couldn't possibly give warmth? + +She, Zélie Marks, wore comfortable delaine night-dresses at this time of +year, and wadded kimonos. She respected herself for her economy and good +sense. But she wished she were Miss Sorel! + +"Miss Marks," said Marise, "can you keep a secret?" + +Zélie smiled. "In my work, I have to keep a good many." + +"I suppose you do! Well, will you keep one for me?" + +"Certainly." + +"That's a promise! Now--I shall surprise you very much." + +Zélie smiled politely, and waited. + +"I'm--going to be married." + +"Pardon me, Miss Sorel," said Zélie, in rather a stilted, professional +manner, "but that doesn't surprise me at all." + +"You haven't heard the name of the man yet." + +"No. You haven't _told_ me that." + +"You mean, you believe you've guessed?" + +"I hope you don't think me presumptuous?" + +"Of course not! Why should it be--such a long word? Guessing's free! But +I wonder if you _have_ guessed?" + +Zélie allowed herself to look slightly bored. If Miss Sorel were going +to be married, and leave for England, she wouldn't want a secretary +long, so there was no need to grovel! "Do you wish me to try?" she asked +primly. + +"Yes." + +"The Earl of Severance." + +Marise had known she would say that, yet she blushed. "Lord Severance +and I are quite old pals," she replied. "This is something much newer +and more exciting! I'm going to marry your friend Major Garth." + +There were few warmer-hearted girls, few who hated more to give pain, +than Marise, yet as she spoke she fixed her eyes--minx-like, if not +lynx-like--on the face of Miss Marks. Even when she saw it go pale--that +greenish pallor of olive complexions--and then a dull, unbecoming red +which gave the dark eyes a bloodshot effect, she wasn't conscious of +repentance for what she had done. She had an odd, unpleasant feeling +that Miss Marks had no right to turn pale and red about a man _she_ was +going to marry. So instead of softening, she went on, hard as nails. + +"Don't forget it's a _great_ secret. I want to spring a surprise on +_everyone_. Will you please 'phone him--Major Garth--at the Belmore for +me? I haven't got time now to call him myself. Just ask him to come +round in three-quarters of an hour. I'll have had my coffee and be +dressed by then, if I rush." + +"Very well, Miss Sorel," agreed Zélie, controlling her voice. After +which she added, "I hope you'll allow me to congratulate you." + +Marise laughed a funny little laugh. "Thanks! But doesn't one 'wish joy' +to the bride and '_congratulate_' the bridegroom?" + +By this time Zélie was at the telephone, but she turned, and her black +eyes darted at Marise one small flame of the fire in her heart. "I wish +you joy, of course," she said. "But I _must_ congratulate you too, +because I've known Ja--Major Garth since before the war, and I know what +he _is_. He's _great_! If you lumped together most of the best men +you've met, they wouldn't make _one_ John Garth!" + +"Ha ha! he _is_ very big!" giggled Marise. "Quite an out-size." + +Zélie could have boxed the ears under the delicious boudoir cap. They +deserved to be boxed! + +"His _soul_ is big!" the older girl snapped. "I only hope you--I mean, +there aren't many women capable of appreciating him. But, of course, you +must be, or you wouldn't have succumbed to him so soon." + +"Succumbed!" Marise flung back the word with just the least shrug of her +shoulders. For an instant the two glared at each other, though "glare" +is a melodramatic word which doesn't chime well with nicely-brought-up +girls in the twentieth century. When Marise, as a child, had looked at +anyone in that way, she called it "snorting with her eyes." + +Now, it was only for a third of a second. Then Miss Marks applied +herself to the telephone, and never had her neat back looked so square +and business-like. There was no more time to waste upon useless +repartees with a secretary, so Marise bolted to her own room. + +She meant and wished to be dressed and fed in three-quarters of an hour, +but never had she quite brought off that feat--at least, never since +she'd become a successful star; and she didn't quite bring it off now. +Her hair was being done when Mums tapped and entered upon the scene. She +looked grave and rather worried, though she never actually frowned, for +fear of wrinkles. + +"That man Garth has come," she announced in a low voice. "What an hour +for a call! Do you wish to see him?" + +"I sent for him," Marise explained. "Didn't he tell you? Or haven't you +spoken to him?" + +"I have spoken to him, but he didn't tell me," said Mary Sorel. "I came +into the salon, and there he was with Miss Marks. I was never so +surprised in my life!" + +"I don't see why, as you know perfectly well I'm going to marry him," +returned Marise. "Oh, Céline! you've dug a hairpin about an _inch_ into +my head! Now mind, whatever you hear us say must go no further." + +"But certainly not, Mademoiselle," vowed Céline, who spoke excellent +English, though the two ladies loved proudly to air their French for her +benefit. "It is indeed true that Mademoiselle will marry this _Monsieur +American_?" + +"It is indeed true," Marise repeated drily. + +"It won't take place--I mean the wedding--for some time, however," Mrs. +Sorel hurried to add. + +Marise said nothing, but looked suddenly as mulish as a beautiful girl +can look. She had been wondering whether or no to confide in Mums what +was in her mind, and see what Mums would say and think about it. But on +the instant she decided "_No_." She _knew_ beforehand what Mums would +think and say. Everything would be from Tony's point of view. Mums was +obsessed with the wonder and majesty and glory of the great--soon to be +the rich--Lord Severance! The news should be sprung on Mums at the last +moment, when everything was "fixed up." + +Meanwhile, Zélie was snatching a few words with Garth--not the words she +wanted personally to speak, but as nearly those as she dared. + +"Jack Garth!" she whispered, "Miss Sorel told me just now you and she +are going to be _married_. She wasn't _joking_?" + +"I hope not," said Garth steadily, "because I'd be--rather cut up if I +thought it was a joke." + +"Listen, Jack," Zélie hurried on. "We're pals--we've been pals for a +long time. I _want_ you to be happy. I'd do a whole lot to make you +happy. So you've just _got_ to forgive me if I say.... _Do_ you know +what you're doing? _Can_ you be happy? That girl--I mean, Miss +Sorel--doesn't love you any more than she does me. And that isn't a +_little_ bit!" + +"I love her," said Garth. "I don't care a damn whether I'm happy or +not." + +"Oh! Then it's all right. Of course, I _suppose_ you know your own +business. Still--Jack--I can't help feeling there's something +queer--some sort of mystery. Don't let yourself be deceived." + +"I'm not being deceived." + +"I hope not, I'm sure. But--oh, _do_ forgive me!--it's Lord Severance +she loves." + +"Then the sooner she unloves him the better it will be all around." + +"I know you think I'm a meddler. But remember we're friends. Remember +Mothereen told me to be your friend, Jack. Those two Sorel women think +Severance the perfect beau ideal of a man. They look upon you--oh, I +can't say it!" + +"You needn't," Garth drily assured her; "I'm a cad; a bounder; a lout." + +"The _beasts_! I hate them both!" Zélie gasped. "They're not worthy to +black your boots." + +"I mostly wear brown ones," said Garth. + +"You're right to snub me. I won't say any more. You must go your own +way, and I hope--I hope with all my heart" (Zélie choked a little) +"you'll never regret it. But just this _one_ thing let me beg you to do. +Whatever they're up to, don't give them the chance to despise you. I +mean, in little things. They _can't_ in big! I saw the way they looked +at--at your clothes Sunday afternoon, Jack. I could have _thrown_ +something at them!--not the clothes, but the Sorels--and Severance, the +conceited Greek snob! But the clothes _weren't_ right, boy. They didn't +do you justice. They had a sort of 'Sunday-go-to-meeting' look: kind of +_smug_! And your gloves and shoes _just_ the wrong yellow! For heaven's +sake don't lose a minute in going to a good tailor if you don't want +your life to be a hell!" + +Garth laughed out, a hard, spasmodic laugh; and at that instant Marise +came in. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +MARISE PUTS ON BLACK + + +A girl in love with one man, flinging herself at the head of another out +of pique or something worse, should have been utterly careless how she +appeared to the eyes of the latter. But for some reason--she hardly knew +what--Marise had been anxious to look her most desirable. She was +dressed in black velvet with shimmering fringes, and a drooping black +velvet hat which made her fairness dazzling, her yellowish-brown hair +bright gold. + +With a faint smile, and in silence, she held out her hand. Garth took +it, and this time didn't crush it unduly. + +Zélie, who had risen as Garth rose, began pinning on her toque, but +Marise turned to her. "Don't go, Miss Marks," she said. "I've told you +the secret, and maybe we shall need your help about something. I don't +want my mother here till everything's arranged. It doesn't matter about +you." + +Zélie slowly took out a hatpin. Oh no, it didn't matter about _her_! She +laid the toque down again, but drew a chair to the typewriter table, her +back turned to the man and the girl. She could, if she glanced up from +her papers, however, see them both in a mirror. She tried not to glance +up, but she succeeded about half as often as she failed. The look on +Garth's face hurt a great deal worse than the hatpin had done when just +now she had jammed the point of it into her head. Oh, it was +ridiculous--or heartbreaking--the way some men loved the wrong girls! + +"I've been thinking in the night," said Marise in a brisk, cheerful +tone, "what fun for us--since we _are_ to be married--to get married at +once and give everyone we know the surprise of their young lives!... +What do you say?" + +Garth had not expected this at all. In fact, when he'd been sent for at +a very early hour, he expected to hear that Marise had "changed her +mind." It was easy for her to ask "what he said," knowing that he could +say only commonplaces before Zélie Marks; and he believed that Zélie had +been invited to remain in the room for precisely this reason. + +"I say, 'Great!'" He rose to the occasion, with the memory of Zélie's +words and his own drumming through his head. "They despise you. Cad: +bounder: lout!" "That's nice of you!--very!" cooed Marise, noticing how +his jaw squared, and feeling the tide of her curiosity rise. (_Was_ it +love? Or _was_ it the million?) "Well then, we'll just do the deed! How +long does it take to get licenses and things?" + +Garth kept himself firmly in hand. "Only as long as it takes to buy the +license and notify a parson." + +"That's what I hoped," said Marise. "I felt sure it was different here +from England." + +"Shall we--that is, would you care"--(Garth's mouth was dry)--"would you +care to be married to-day?" + +"Yes," the girl flashed back, "I would care to, if that suits you. +Because, you see, I want it to be done and over before--_anybody knows_. +Except my mother, of course. She won't like the idea one bit. But I'll +make her come round." + +"I see," said Garth. And he did see. He saw very clearly. But he could +not understand, all in a moment like this, why she wanted to marry him +without letting Severance know beforehand. It didn't _seem_, just on the +face of it, a good sign for Severance. Still, he couldn't be sure. Women +were supposed to be very subtle, and he'd never had much time even to +try and analyse the strange creatures. Except Mothereen (he'd named her +that because she was Irish), the little old woman who'd given him the +only mothering he remembered, Garth had never got very near any woman's +mentality. He braced himself, and asked, "How soon can you be ready?" + +"In an hour--in _less_ than an hour. As soon as I've told Mums," Marise +spoke quickly and thickly, over a beating heart. Each moment excited her +more and more. She felt herself the heroine of a thrilling drama--a +drama where she had to play the star part without any rehearsals, and +without ever having read further than the first scene of the first act. +It might be a drama of "stunts," too--as the movie people said: +dangerous stunts, where she might have to walk a tightrope with a deep +drop underneath. But she wasn't afraid. She would not have thrown over +the part now if some other easier one with the same ending had offered. +She didn't recognise herself as she was to-day. But she did not care. It +was all Tony's fault. Or perhaps a little Mums' fault too. + +"And afterwards?" she heard Garth quietly asking. + +"Oh!... Well, the first thing is the fun of surprising everyone. After +that--well, I haven't exactly thought yet." + +"You had better think," he said. "Much better." + +Marise glanced at the back of Zélie's head, then met Miss Marks's eyes +in the mirror. + +"We'll talk it over presently with Mums. She's so _wise_--and always +knows how to do the right thing." The "correct thing" would have been +more apt an expression, but Marise wasn't thinking of the fine shades. +She was thinking just then more of Zélie; and the thought of Zélie made +her blush, she didn't quite see why! + +"Miss Marks," she said, "I may want you by and by to take down several +notes for me, letters to some of my most intimate friends, to be sent +after--after the wedding. But at this particular instant I fancy there's +nothing more for you to do, except--oh yes, do be very nice, and run +down to the mail counter, or wherever in the hotel you can buy stamps." + +As these instructions were being given, Zélie pencilled with incredible +quickness a few words on a scrap of paper. This scrap she tucked up her +sleeve, and a second or two later, as Garth opened the door for her to +go out, she contrived to slip the paper into the hand on the knob. + +"Now I'll call Mums," cried Marise, fearing to risk such a moment alone +with this unclassified wild animal, soon to become her dummy husband. +"Mums is not pleased, because I said I wanted a few words with you +before she came in--though she'd be _much_ crosser if she knew I'd let +Miss Marks stay. You'll back me up with her, won't you, that my +plan--_ours_, I mean--is the best?" + +"I think," said Garth, "you don't need much backing from me with your +mother, though if you do, I'll give it as well as I know how. But wait a +second before she comes. I have a superstition. I ask that you won't be +married in black." + +"Oh! But I chose this dress on purpose!" The words escaped before she'd +stopped to think. + +Garth didn't flush. He was past that. He needed all his blood at his +heart. "I supposed you did," he said. "All the same, don't wear it." + +"But it's such a pretty dress--and hat. They're new. I like them--better +than anything I've got." + +"_For this occasion!_ I understand." + +"Are you--being sarcastic?" Marise hesitated. + +"No-o. Only sincere. Why did you want to wear black to be married--to +me?" + +"I--don't know." She stammered a little. + +"Well then, if you don't know, change to another colour." + +"Oh, I'm quite willing to do that if you make a point of it!" + +The man's manner was so different from the other day, that Marise was +less sure of his motives in taking her at the price. He spoke shortly +and sharply now, like a military martinet, she decided. But he _wasn't_ +exactly "common." He wasn't even ordinary. + +Her last words were at the door of her own room, and she whisked +through, to find her mother. She thought how she should break the news. +And she thought, also, what she should wear in place of the black dress. +Should she put on grey--or heliotrope--"second mourning"? She would have +liked to try this trick upon Garth. But the man was capable of making +her take off one thing after the other, on pain of not being married +to-day--which meant, not spiting Severance. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Sorel was flabbergasted. + +She would not have used such a vulgar expression herself; but that is +what she was. + +She argued, she warned, she scolded, she besought. Severance would be +furious. It would be a blow which his love might not survive. Tony had +not dreamed of this marriage taking place with such--indecent haste! + +"If you say much more it won't take place at all!" shrilled Marise, on +the verge of hysterics, which (Mums knew from bitter experience) her +twentieth-century child was not at all above having when thwarted, just +like an early Edwardian. + +While Marise was away, Garth opened the folded scrap of paper that Zélie +Marks had slipped into his hand, and read the line she had pencilled. + + "For _goodness'_ sake don't be married in those awful best + clothes of yours that you wore Sunday. Put on the uniform of + the _Guards_, and look a regular man." + +He was in no mood for laughing, yet he grinned. "And look a regular +man!" ... Girls were queer. As if it would matter to Marise what _he_ +wore! But--well, hang it, why shouldn't he make her notice him? She +would do that if he turned up in uniform. And wasn't that what he wished +to look in her eyes, "A regular man"? + +He'd made up his mind to take Zélie's tip, when suddenly he remembered +that Marise and he would not be married in church. They'd walk into some +parson's parlour, and the knot would be tied there. He couldn't get into +his uniform for a home-made affair like that. + +Garth had gone no further than this when Marise came back, chaperoned by +Mums. + +"My mother makes one stipulation," the girl announced. "That the wedding +shall be in a church. She's picked up English ideas, and thinks anything +else 'hardly respectable.' Though I should have thought for that reason +it would be more appropriate! However, _I_ don't care. Do you?" + +"Not a da--not a red cent," said Garth. + +Two minutes later he had gone to buy a marriage license, engage the +services of a clergyman--and a _church_. + +Marise changed her dress. She would not wear white, like a _real_ bride. +That would be sacrilege, she said; and compromised by putting on her +favourite blue. But it was the oldest dress she owned; and she had +intended giving it to Céline. + +The girl wished she were pale. But that could be arranged. And she was +arranging it with powder when the bell of the telephone rang. + +Mums flew to the instrument, tearfully drawing on her gloves. + +Garth had called up, to give the name of the church and the hour fixed +for the wedding. They must start at once. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE CHURCH DOOR + + +Céline was a fervent admirer of Lord Severance. Half Greek, she had +heard him called. To her he was wholly Greek: a Greek god. Indeed, he +was miles handsomer than "_cet Apollon en marbre_" adorning a pedestal +in the salon, which statue she tried to drape tastefully with climbing +flowers each morning. His lordship's nose was much the same as Apollo's; +so was his proud air of owning the world and not caring particularly +about it: and to Céline's idea he had more to be proud of than a mere +god who went naked. + +Gods had no pockets, and Lord Severance had many, beautifully flat yet +containing banknotes with which he was generous when nobody looked. +Since she could not marry him, Céline wanted Mademoiselle to do so, for +Mademoiselle was her _alter ego_. She shared Mademoiselle's glory and +her dresses. She wished to be maid to a countess--a _chic_ countess, as +the wife of Milord Severance would be. It was desolating that +Mademoiselle should throw everything over because of a silly quarrel (it +must be a quarrel!) and fling herself away on a gawky giant whose +clothes might have been made by a butcher! + +Yes, it was easy to see that there had been an upheaval of some sort. +Mademoiselle was not the same since Sunday afternoon, when this huge +personage had arrived by appointment, and Céline had recalled seeing him +on shipboard. To be sure, Milord had come in later, and outstayed the +Monsieur. But it was then the quarrel must have occurred, for +Mademoiselle had been in a state unequalled even after the most trying +dress rehearsals. Oh, it was a mystery--a mystery of the deepest +blackness! + +Céline moaned aloud, with a bleating noise, and gabbled _argot_ as she +tidied the belongings which Mademoiselle had flung everywhere. + +"If I should call up Milord, how would that be?" she asked herself, and +rushed to the 'phone. + +Severance, as it happened, had been on the point of telephoning Mrs. +Sorel, not daring to attempt direct communication with Marise. He had +bad news and good news to give. The bad was that he must sail for +England sooner than expected, in fact, on the following day, or perhaps +not get a cabin for weeks. + +The good news was that a friend had offered to lend him a wonderful +house near Los Angeles for the next few months. He had spoken to a +certain Lady Fytche (_née_ Adêla Moyle, of California) about his +marriage, and bringing OEnone across for her health. Whereupon Adêla +(who was at his hotel, and sailing on his ship) said, "I'd love to lend +you Bell Towers. The house is standing empty, and you know it's rather +nice." + +Severance did know, for Bell Towers was a famous place, illustrated in +magazines; and if Adêla Moyle had been prettier, it might have become +his own before she fell back--figuratively speaking--upon a baronet. + +If Marise would give up the stage (he couldn't bear to leave her behind +the footlights in New York, admired, interviewed, gossipped about by +Tom, Dick and Harry!), he'd lend Bell Towers to Mrs. Sorel, and the girl +could vanish from public view till time for her farcical marriage and +his own return. If his uncle could be told by himself and the newspapers +that Miss Sorel was _engaged_ to Major Garth, it would be enough to cool +the old boy's suspicions. + +Then, as Tony's hand was stretched out for the receiver, came a ring at +the telephone. + +"The dentist!" he thought. For he had had to ask for a second +appointment because of that loosened tooth, and was to be called up. It +came as a surprise, therefore, to hear Céline's voice. + +He could hardly believe the news which the French maid gave him. Marise +wouldn't do such a thing! There must be a mistake, he told Céline. Or it +was a clumsy joke. + +"_Milord, c'est la verité_," came the answer. "Milord need not take my +word. Let him go to the church. Milord may yet be in time. But he must +make haste. It is a long way. I heard Madame telephone and talk." + +"I will go--I'll do my best," Severance answered, to put the woman off. +But--what _could_ he do? What was his "best"? + +Céline knew nothing of the secret pact. She judged from what she had +overheard, and he could not explain that he didn't see his way to stop +the marriage. + +The more he thought, the more clear it became that this sudden move by +Marise was a caprice to spite him--to "hoist him from his own petard." +Severance could almost hear the girl defend herself. "You ought to be +pleased that I took you at your word, before you went away. Otherwise I +might have changed my mind about the whole thing!" + +She was sure to say this, and even if he reached the church in time he +wouldn't dare stop the business when it had gone so far. That devil +Garth had a beast of a temper; and a fellow can't at the same moment see +red, and which side his bread is buttered! + +Severance hated Garth venomously since the episode at the Belmore. But +the brute was a hero in the States, and would pass in the public eye as +a reasonable husband for Marise Sorel. + +Nobody who didn't know the ugly truth would say, "How _could_ that +beautiful girl throw herself away on that _worm_?" + +Whatever Garth was, he wasn't a worm. Though he had apparently made no +bones of accepting a million-dollar bribe, deep within his subconscious +self Severance didn't believe that the million was the lure. Garth was +in love with the girl, in his loutish way. Perhaps, even, he might hope +to win some affection from her in return. Tony felt that he need wish +the fool no worse than an attempt to "try it on"! + +Force, Severance did not fear. Marise was no flapper. She had her eyes +open. She'd know how to handle a man in Garth's position. Besides, Mums +would be at her side, a pillar of strength. Tony even felt that in some +ways Garth was ideal for the part he had to play. Marise would always +contrast him unfavourably with the man she loved. And hating Garth, +he--Severance--could enjoy the tortures which the paid dummy was doomed +to suffer. + +Severance could not keep away from the church. To go was undignified, +yet he knew that he would go.... Five minutes after his talk with +Céline, Tony was in the lift, descending ten storeys of his hotel to the +gilding and marble of the ground floor. As in a dream, he ordered a +taxi. It came; and--self-conscious, as if he were being married +himself--he directed the chauffeur where to drive. Then, still as in a +dream, he stared at his reflection in a small mirror, which bobbed as +the taxi bounced. It was a consolation to see how handsome and +superlatively smart he looked! + +He had abandoned his uniform in New York for every-day life; but he was +sure that no man in America had clothes to compare in cut with his, +which had been built at just the right place in Savile Row. His silk hat +was a masterpiece. His tie, his socks, and the orchid in his buttonhole +were all of the same shade, and his opal pin repeated the lights and +shades of colour. + +Well, there was one good thing he _could_ accomplish by turning up at +the church. Silently he would show Marise the contrast between a man who +was everything he ought to be, and a man who was everything no man +should be and live! + +The chauffeur slowed at last before a church which looked more English +than American, and was perhaps a relic of colonial days. "You can wait," +said Severance, getting out. "I may ..." But he forgot the rest. In the +porch stood two men, who had evidently just arrived and were talking. It +was more like a dream than ever to see a familiar uniform which at a +glance took Severance home. Both men wore it. The fighting khaki of his +own regiment of the Guards! + +The shorter of the two tall officers turned and saw him. It was his own +Colonel; and the other was Garth. Then a second taxi drove up, +containing Marise Sorel and her mother. + +Severance would have stepped to the door of their cab, but Garth was +before him. + +And so it was, with sunshine striking a line of decorations on the +V.C.'s breast, that Marise got the contrast between the men. An orchid +is beautiful; but the Victoria Cross, even expressed in ribbon, is +better. + +"Let me introduce my Colonel, Lord Pobblebrook," said Garth. "He has +brought his wife, who is American, home to this country; and when we ran +across each other this morning he offered to--to see me through here." + +"Pobbles"--of whom Marise had heard from Tony--took her hand. "We're +proud of Garth in the regiment," he said, and found time to nod to +Severance. But he looked puzzled. Why was Severance here? To the best of +Pobbles's recollection, Tony had been the ringleader in a set who wanted +to snub Garth out of the Brigade. The Colonel's curiosity woke up. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE + + +For once, Marise was all girl, not actress. She lost her _savoir faire_ +at sight of Severance, and could not speak. + +She saw him before she saw Garth and "Pobbles," and her eyes took in his +perfection of tailorhood. Then Garth came forward, and she was struck +with surprise by the uniform of the smartest soldiers in the world. + +"What an inspiration!" she thought, never guessing whence that +inspiration had come. + +Mrs. Sorel, luckily, could always speak, even chatter. She chattered +now. + +"How nice of you to come, Lord Severance," she chirped, keeping up +appearances before Lord Pobblebrook. "And how _clever_!" she added, +camouflaging for "Pobbles's" benefit her surprise that Tony should have +learned Marise's secret. How he had done that, she would wring out of +someone by and by. But at present duty bade her be pleasant to +"Pobbles." + +Trying to recall mutual friends (titled) with whose Christian names she +could impress the noble soldier, Mums had to keep a watchful eye and ear +for her girl and the two young men: but it was not for long. The +clergyman was waiting. + +"Strange, how many things you can think of at one time--especially the +wrong time!" Marise reflected, as she stood before the figure in a +surplice. + +She had often dreamed of being married, and what kind of a wedding she +would have, at St. George's, Hanover Square, or the Guards' Chapel. She +had chosen her music, and knew what sort of dress and veil she wanted. +Orchids were Tony's flowers. There was a white variety, streaked with +silver. Her train should be silver, too. She'd be leaving the stage; and +as the Countess of Severance, she could be presented. The silver train +would do for Court. + +Now, here she was, thousands of miles from Hanover Square and the +Guards' Chapel. She had on a street dress. There was no music, unless +you could count the far-off strains of a hand-organ playing an old tune, +"You made me love you, I didn't want to do it!" The one orchid was in +Tony's buttonhole; and he was in a pew looking on while she promised to +love, honour and obey another man. + +Marise saw the two pictures--the dream and the reality; and the +difference made her sick. All the sense of wild adventure was gone. +There was _no_ adventure! There was just blank ruin. + +What a fool she had been! Was there no way out, even now? Surely there +was one. She could still say "No," instead of "Yes," and there'd be an +end, where Garth was concerned. + +Perhaps on the spur of the moment Marise would have followed her +impulse, if--Lord Pobblebrook hadn't been present. Somehow, before him +she couldn't make a scene! + +The girl felt as if two unseen influences had her by the arm, one on the +right, one on the left, like the white and black angels of the +Mohammedan. They pulled both ways at once, and trembling as she never +had trembled on a first night at the theatre, she looked up at Garth. + +There was an odd expression in his yellow-grey eyes, which she had +likened to the eyes of a lion in a Zoo who sees nothing save his far-off +desert. This lion was not now thinking of the desert. He was thinking of +her. But how? As a piece of meat which he would soon be free to devour? +Or--as a new keeper who, though young and a woman, would have to be +reckoned with? + +As this question flashed through her mind, Marise remembered that she +knew nothing of Garth's past, nor of his character, except that he had +fought and won the V.C., therefore he must be brave. But why worry, +since in a few months they'd part, and she would forget him, as she'd +forgotten several leading men who played "opposite" her when she first +went on the stage? + +But that look in the yellow-grey eyes; what was its language? What was +in the soul or brain behind the eyes? Was Garth deciding how to treat +her during the short time that would be his? + +Marise recalled the sound of his voice when he had asked her what would +come after the marriage. She'd answered that she "hadn't thought yet." +And he had said, "_You had better think. Think now._" + +"Well, I'm not alone in the world, and I'm not afraid of him," she +encouraged herself. "Cave Man business is old stuff. And anyhow--what +price a Cave _Girl_?" + +The vision of a Cave Girl downing a surprised Cave Man almost made +Marise laugh; and then it was time for the ring. Good gracious, the +_ring_! Of course, no one had thought of it! + +There was an instant's stage-wait. Marise's eyes turned to her mother +and saw Mums tearing off a glove to supply the necessary object. Far +more dramatic, Severance had jumped up and was pulling from the least +finger of his left hand a gold snake-ring which had been made for his +mother in Athens. Yes, he would _love_ to have Marise married to Garth +with that! But, after all, the bridegroom had brought the ring. It was +only that for a few seconds he had forgotten. Perhaps the look he had +exchanged with his bride had made him forget! + +He remembered, however, before Mums or Severance could step into the +breach. In fact, he gave them no breach to step into. + +"With this ring I thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow," +Marise heard him repeat, as he slipped over the third finger of her left +hand the circlet retrieved in haste from his khaki tunic. She glanced at +the ring as it slid loosely on, and was amazed to see what such an +outsider had chosen. + +The "smart thing" in London and New York was, not to have the "stodgy +old curtain-ring" which had been woman's badge of subjection for +centuries. Instead, the idea was a band of platinum set round with +diamonds; and this was what Garth had hit upon! + +While Marise was on her knees--shamefaced because there was nothing she +dared pray about--she thought of the ring, and wondered who on earth had +put Garth up to getting it? + + * * * * * + +When all was over, and the words which should be momentous were spoken, +"I pronounce you man and wife," the girl lifted her face with the +hardest expression it had ever worn. Eyes and lips said, "This is where +the bridegroom kisses the bride. But that's not in _our_ programme. +Don't dare to take advantage of your Colonel being here." + +Whether Garth read the signal, or whether he'd no intention of keeping +the time-honoured custom, he refrained. Instead of a kiss, he gave the +bride a slight smile, gone so quickly she wondered if she'd imagined it. + +In another moment, after she'd been pressed in her mother's arms, Lord +Pobblebrook was shaking hands; and then came Severance. + +It was a good minute for him, because Garth was kept busy by a kind +Colonel and a not very kind mother-in-law. + +"Let no man put them asunder!" the Reverend David Jones had just said, +but there already was the man who intended, in the devil's good time, to +disobey that command. + +"This has been the worst half-hour of my life," Tony groaned. "My God, +how I've suffered! I all but sprang up and yelled 'Stop!' when the fool +looked round for someone to say why the marriage shouldn't take +place----" + +"'Or else _for ever after_ hold his peace,'" quoted Marise. + +"Dash it all, don't rub things in," Severance begged. "I didn't know how +bad it would be----" + +"I half thought you _might_ spring up!" the girl confessed. + +"If I had, what would you have done?" + +"I--don't know." + +"It would have made matters worse for the future--more difficult all +round," Tony said. "That thought held me back. But, Marise, it was cruel +to spring this surprise on me." + +"It doesn't seem to have been a surprise," she reminded him. "How _did_ +you know about it--the church, and everything?" + +"A little bird told me. Why did you want to hurt me so?" + +Marise shrugged her shoulders. "You had hurt me--almost to death. I +_had_ to strike back! But let's not talk of it any more. The thing's +done--and can't be undone." + +"It can, and will be, before long, please Heaven!" + +The girl laughed. "Please _Heaven_?" And she was glad when Pobbles broke +in, Mums at his side. + +"My dear young lady, Garth confided in me (am I not his Colonel, which +is much the same as a father confessor?) that this--er--this little show +had been got up in a hurry for one reason or other. I'm pleased and +honoured to be in at the dea--I mean the birth--er--you _know_ what I +mean! And I'd be still more pleased if--er--couldn't we--I--invite you +all to some sort of blow-out? My wife----" + +"Sweet of you, Lord Pobblebrook!" cut in Mrs. Sorel. "But if there'd +been time for any sort of rejoicing, any little feast, I should be +giving it and asking Lady Pobblebrook and yourself to join us. But I +suppose Major Garth can't quite have made it clear to you that he is +called away suddenly--on a sort of _mission_. That's why the marriage +was so rushed. He has to go at once, so he wanted to be married first, +and----" + +"Take my wife with me," explained Garth. + +His mother-in-law of ten minutes stared at him with the eyes of a cold, +boiled fish. + +"Of course--yes--that's what he _wanted_," she smiled to Pobbles. "What +a pity it can't be! My daughter, Lord Pobblebrook, is a servant of the +public, you know. She has to obey them, marriage or no marriage. And +they want her in New York." + +"Not as much as I want her out West," said Garth. He smiled again--that +same queer smile with the same unreadable look in his eyes, though this +time both were for Mums. + +The indignant lady turned to Marise, in case there were some plot +against her; but the girl gave a very slight shake of her head. Light +came back to Mrs. Sorel's eyes. She ought to be able to trust her own +daughter! + +"I took the liberty of ordering lunch for four at the Ritz after I met +my Colonel in the hall of the Belmore," said Garth. "I stopped on the +way there, to buy the ring. But"--and he eyed Severance coolly--"there +will be room to have a fifth plate laid, if--er----" + +"Oh!" thought Marise. "Not so much Cave Man, after all, as the Strong, +Silent Man! All right! I know _that_ kind from A to Z. And I dare say +it's just as easy to be a Strong, Silent Girl as to be a Cave Girl, if +once you begin properly." + +Her sense of adventure woke again as she waited to hear Tony's answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE SPEAKING-TUBE + + +Severance accepted the invitation to the Ritz. His principal reason for +doing so was because he knew it would enrage Garth. + +It was a strange and strained luncheon, for those present (with the +exception of "Pobbles") talked very little and thought so much that it +seemed to each one as if his or her thoughts shrieked aloud or shot from +the head in streaks of blue lightning. + +Marise thought, "What comes next? What does _He_ mean to do?" And "He," +with a capital "H," was no longer Severance, but this stranger, Garth. + +Mrs. Sorel thought, "How _are_ we going to get rid of the man? I'm sure +he means mischief. Shall I appeal to Lord Severance, or would that make +matters worse?" + +Severance thought, "How am I to get some time alone with Marise, and +come to an understanding before I sail to-morrow morning? How are we to +arrange about our _letters and cables_?" + +And Garth thought, "What will She say when she finds out what I've +arranged at the Plaza?" + +As for Lord Pobblebrook, he had only vague, pleasant thoughts such as +men of his type do have at a wedding luncheon with plenty of champagne. +It was a very good luncheon, for they do things well at the Ritz, and +the champagne was a last song of glory before America went "dry." + +At last, when Severance had to give up hope of a whispered word with +Marise, he was obliged to declare his hand. "I'll call at the theatre +to-night to say good-bye if you don't mind," he announced aloud, with a +casual air. "I suppose you won't hand things over to your understudy, in +spite of what's happened to-day?" + +"I shall play to-night, of course," said Marise. + +"And every night," added Mums. + +Silence followed her words. + +"Won't you come back to the Plaza with us, Lord Pobblebrook?" asked Mrs. +Sorel. "If you have never been there, I'd like you to see what a +charming hotel it is. Next time you run over from dear England, you +might like to try it for yourself. Major Garth, I'm sorry to say, is +obliged to attend to business this afternoon--business concerned with +his _mission_, so unfortunately--unless you'll go with us--my daughter +and I will be obliged to taxi back alone." + +"Of course I'll come, with pleasure!" heartily consented Pobbles. + +"My business doesn't begin quite so early," said Garth. "If you'll drive +with Mrs. Sorel, sir, I'll take my wife as far as the Plaza." + +If Mums could have stabbed her son-in-law, not fatally but painfully, +with a stiletto-flash from her eyes, it would have given her infinite +satisfaction to do so. As she could not, she had to confess herself +worsted for the moment; for Lord Pobblebrook was the Colonel of Lord +Severance as well as of Major Garth; and it was for such as he that the +conventional farce of this wedding had taken place. He must not be +allowed to suspect that anything was wrong, or Tony's whole elaborate +scheme might be wrecked. It was most probable that Lord Pobblebrook and +Mr. Ionides belonged to some of the same London clubs and met now and +then. + +Marise was oddly dazed at finding herself alone in a taxi with Garth, +bound for the Plaza Hotel, which she thought of as "home." She had +expected that Tony or Mums would succeed in rescuing her, but neither +had risen to the occasion: and the girl realised that this lack of +initiative on their part was due to the presence of Pobbles. She hardly +knew whether to be more vexed or amused at Garth's triumph (she supposed +that he considered it such); but her lips twitched with that fatal sense +of humour which Mums so disapproved. + +"It is rather funny, isn't it?" said her companion. + +Marise stiffened. This was a critical moment. Much depended upon the +start she made on stepping over the threshold of this strange situation. +She must be careful to keep the whip hand. + +"What I was laughing at is funny, in a way," she grudged. "It +occurred to me that it was smart of you to bring your Colonel +to--to--the--er----" + +"Show," suggested Garth. + +"If you like to call it that." + +"I thought the word pretty well described it from your point of view," +explained Garth. + +Marise looked straight at him. + +"What was it from yours? It can't have been much more." + +"I don't feel bound to tell you what it was from mine." + +"Oh, well, you needn't!" Her chin went up. "I'm not really curious." + +"Why should you be? You'll find out in time." + +A spark lit the blue eyes under the blue hat. + +"I do hope you're not planning to spring any surprises on me, Major +Garth," she said, in an acid tone that was a youthful copy of Mums, +"because, if you are, it will only lead to unpleasantness. Whereas, if +you keep to the spirit of the bargain, we----" + +"Allow me to point out," Garth cut in, with an impersonal air of +detachment which puzzled her, "that you yourself have 'queered' the +'bargain.'" + +"I don't know what you mean," exclaimed Marise. + +"That's another instance of your not thinking things out beforehand," he +said. "If you'd stopped to reflect a minute before you proposed to marry +me this morning you'd have seen what you were up against." + +Marise felt the blood rush to her cheeks, as if the man had slapped them +with the flat of his big hand. + +"What a way of putting it!" she flashed at him. "You may be a hero and +all that--no doubt you are, as you're a V.C. But as a man--a +_gentleman_--I'm afraid you've got quite a lot to learn." + +"Of course I have," said Garth. "You knew I was only a temporary +gentleman. I heard Severance state the fact to you on shipboard when he +was telling you some of my other disadvantages. Scratch a temporary +gentleman, and under the surface you find----" + +"What?" Marise threw into a pause. + +"The things you'll find in me, when you know me better." + +"Oh!" she breathed. And on second thoughts added, "I don't intend to +'scratch' you, and find things under the surface. I don't suppose I +shall ever know you much better." + +"Call it worse, then," he suggested. + +"Neither better, nor worse!" + +"Yet you've just promised to take me for both." + +"That meant nothing, as you know very well." + +"I do not know anything of the sort." + +"Then you _are_ a 'temporary gentleman' indeed! We spoke just now of +that bargain----" + +"Which, through your own actions, doesn't exist." + +"Of course it exists. You talk in riddles!" + +"When you put your mind to this one, it will cease to be a riddle. +You'll guess it in a moment. You'll see what you've done. Probably +Severance would have told you before this if he'd had the chance. The +explanation, if there has to be one, will come better from him than from +me. But I may as well break one small detail to you before we get to the +hotel; I've no intention of leaving him alone with you for a minute, or +any part of a minute, before he sails." + +"How dare you hope to lay down the law for me?" Marise almost gasped, +over a wildly-throbbing heart. "I shall see Lord Severance alone as much +as I choose--and as he chooses." + +"You can try," said Garth. "So can he." + +"_You_ won't have any chance to prevent it! You shan't even come into my +mother's suite at the Plaza Hotel if you attempt to put on these +ridiculous airs of being my master. I wonder who you think you _are_, +Major Garth?" + +"The important thing--to you and your mother and to Severance--is not so +much what I think I am, as what other people will think I am. They will +think I'm your husband. I understand that this marriage idea was +entirely for appearance' sake?" + +"Exactly!" cried Marise. + +"Then it's up to you and me to look after the appearances. I warned you +this morning that you hadn't thought the thing out enough, and that +you'd better think hard, then and there. Perhaps you did. If so, +you----" + +"I didn't. How could I? There was no time." + +"That's what you said. Consequently I had to do the thinking for you. +And the arranging of your future. I never was a slow chap. My life was +always more or less of a hustle since I was a very small kid, and I had +to keep my thinking machine on the jump. The war has speeded it up a +bit. This morning, when you announced that you'd be ready to be married +in an hour or less, I'll tell you just what I had to do. I had to inform +the manager of your hotel that I was marrying Miss Sorel, and that we +couldn't get away from New York for a few days----" + +"You--dared to do that!" + +"I got my V.C. for doing something almost as dangerous. I told him he +must give us a suite----" + +"You--you _devil_!" + +"Thank you. I guess even that sounds more natural from a wife to a +husband than 'Major Garth.'" + +"You don't dream I'm going to occupy a suite with you, I suppose?" + +"I don't dream. I know you are going to occupy that suite, unless you +want me openly to leave you on our wedding day. This comes of your not +thinking what would happen next. You'd better choose now, because we'll +soon be at the Plaza. Is it to be my hotel or not?" + +"You said--when my mother explained to Lord Pobblebrook that you had a +mission--you said you were going West." + +"And that I intended to take you with me. But that won't be for a few +days, till you've had time to settle your affairs. I don't want to rush +you. What I ask you to decide now is for meanwhile, before we start." + +"I shall never start anywhere with you--or live anywhere meanwhile with +you." + +"Very well then, that's that. Now I know where I am." He seized the +speaking-tube, but Marise caught his hand. + +"What are you going to do?" she asked. + +"Stop the taxi and get out. The snap's off." + +The girl was about to exclaim, "But you can't leave me like this!" when +it occurred to her that, desperado as he was turning out, it would be +well to take him at his word; at all events, to a certain extent. + +"Very well," she said. "I shall tell everyone that you've gone West on +an important mission. V.C.'s are always expected to have missions." + +"And I shall tell everyone that I've done nothing of the sort. I'll go +back to the Belmore, 'phone to the Plaza and countermand the suite I +took, and allow myself to be interviewed by all the reporters, who'll +swarm round me like flies round a honeypot. There'll be plenty of flies +left for you. You can give them honey or vinegar, I don't care which. +It's your concern, not mine. I don't even care what they make of the +combination: my story and yours. It'll be _some_ story, though. That's +the one thing sure." + +"You're an absolute brute!" cried Marise. + +"What did you expect? You heard from Severance that I was a bounder. I'm +a fighting man. That's about all, for the moment." + +"You mean, you're fighting me?" + +"Not in the least. I'm fighting the battle of appearances, which means +I'm fighting _for_ you." + +"What makes you think there'll be reporters waiting?" Marise changed the +subject. "Did you tell anyone?" + +"The manager of your hotel and mine. I didn't tell him in confidence. +There was no idea of keeping the marriage a secret, was there?" + +"No-o." + +"Well, then! Am I or am I not to stop the taxi and get out?" + +"Wait," Marise temporised. "You must please understand that I'm not +going to live with you as your wife." + +"I haven't asked you to do so, although you did ask me to become your +husband. After last Sunday, I would never have started the subject, or +even have tried to meet you again. Please, on your part, understand +that." + +The girl's breath was caught away for the dozenth time. She spoke more +quietly. "I know you haven't asked me, in so many words," she admitted. +"But you spoke of a _suite_." + +"Certainly I spoke of a suite. I thought you and your mother were +anxious to keep up conventions. Though I'm not Severance's sort of +gentleman--perhaps _because_ I'm not--you can trust me not to behave +like a brute, even though you're thinking that I speak like one. Or, if +you can't trust me as far as that, you ought never to have run the risk +you have run." + +"But can I trust you--to keep to the bargain?" + +"I've told you that owing to your own act, there _is_ no bargain. +Haven't you solved that 'puzzle' yet?" + +"I have not." + +"You will soon. Do I stop here?" + +"Bargain or no bargain then, _can_ I trust you?" + +"Look me in the face and judge." + +She looked him in the face. + +In spite of the war tan, not faded yet, he was pale; and his pupils +seemed to have flowed like ink over the yellow-grey iris. His eyes were +black as they blazed into hers. He might, she thought, commit murder in +that mood, but--he could do nothing mean, nothing sly, nothing vile. + +"I must trust you, and I do." + +Garth let the speaking-tube fall. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +AU REVOIR--TILL SOMETIME! + + +When Marise and Garth arrived together in Mrs. Sorel's salon, it was to +find a "bunch" of reporters interviewing the bride's mother. + +Marise guessed that Mums had had the young men up in order to tell them +what she chose about Major Garth's future movements before Garth had +time to arrive and speak for himself. But by these tactics she had lost +the supporting presence of Lord Severance. Fearing his uncle, and +perhaps even detectives set to spy upon him by Constantine Ionides, the +last thing he could afford was to have his name appear in print in +connection with this surprise wedding. Fearing reporters, he had not +even come to the hotel door with Mrs. Sorel, but had gone with his +Colonel to pay respects due to lady Pobblebrook; and this was well, for +some sharp eye and stylo would have spotted him even in the background +of a taxi. + +Mums had not only approved, she had advised this prudence. Everything +depended upon it, in fact; and she had soothed Tony by assuring him that +she and Marise--or she alone--could deal with Garth if Garth were uppish +and needed keeping in his place. It was arranged between Mrs. Sorel and +Lord Severance that the latter should come to "Dolores's" dressing-room +at the theatre to say good-bye, and Mums would see that he got a few +minutes at least alone with Marise. Then, in a few weeks he would be +back and they would meet again. Mrs. Sorel had provisionally accepted +the loan of Bell Towers until he and OEnone should want the house for +themselves, whereupon the Sorels could gracefully retire to some +charming place they would hope to find in the neighbourhood. + +Of course, this acceptance of Bell Towers must depend upon Marise +leaving the stage: but Mums said that, if Tony were indeed shortly to be +left a widower, the sooner Marise could be disassociated from the +theatre, the better it would be for all concerned. + +Thus it happened that when "Major and Mrs. Garth" walked into the room a +few minutes after Mums' arrival, they found her as busy with a crowd of +reporters as a conjurer who keeps a dozen oranges in the air at once. + +Mary Sorel was chagrined at sight of her son-in-law. + +Not that she thought of him as such, or as the husband of her daughter. +She was a woman whom circumstances had forced to become unscrupulous. +Ever since Marise had begun, as a flapper, to show signs of unusual +beauty and talent, Mums had buckled on a steely armour in which to fight +the world for her girl. Naturally conventional, she had adjusted a nice +balance between ambition and conscience. When she was obliged to do a +thing in itself objectionable, she hastily gilded it for her own benefit +as well as that of Marise, seeing it as she wished it to be. Garth in +her eyes, therefore, was no more important than one of the leading men +with whom Marise played her star parts; and as--like a leading man--he +was to be well paid, he would have no right to obtrude upon the star's +private life. + +She intended that, no matter how he protested, he should immediately be +"called away"; and she had hoped to get just what she wanted scribbled +into the notebooks of these reporters before Garth could interfere. +Without feeling in the least guilty, therefore, she was upset when he +had the bad taste to stalk in with Marise. + +"Hello, boys!" he breezily greeted the newspaper men, some of whom he +had met before. + +They were delighted to see him, as well as Marise, and Mrs. Sorel's +painstaking work went by the board in a minute. With rage and anguish +she heard Garth say that when he "went West" (no longer in the sad +vernacular of soldiers) his wife would go with him. + +"She'll be leaving the stage, you know, as soon as she can manage to get +free," he explained. "And then I'm going to take her out to my adopted +state, Arizona." + +His mother-in-law's interpolations that "it must be a long time first" +were scarcely heard; and all her "exclusive information" was hurriedly +blue-pencilled by the newspaper men. In the midst of this (to her) +extremely painful scene, Sheridan and Belloc, author and manager, burst +in like a couple of bombs. They had heard the news, and dashed to the +Plaza in search of the truth. + +"Well, I suppose we ought to congratulate you and all that," grumbled +Belloc, when his worst fears had been confirmed by the sight of Garth, +well known from journalistic snapshots. "We might have suspected +something was in the wind, the way you've been an every-nighter for the +'Spring Song,' Major. But safety first!--and we can't be polite till +we're out of the woods. You're not going to tear Miss Sorel away from +us, of course, in the midst of the run?" + +"Miss Sorel has ceased to exist, hasn't she?" asked Garth, with a rather +glum smile. + +"Not ceased to exist professionally." Belloc explained his meaning to +the lay mind. "And I hope she won't cease for many years." + +"If I can answer for her, she'll do no more acting after she's handed in +her notice to you--two weeks, I suppose, like most contracts," Garth +returned. "It's hard on you, in the middle of a run. But didn't I see in +some Sunday supplement a photo of a beautiful young lady, labelled 'Miss +Sorel's Understudy'? And as you say 'safety first!'--naturally I put my +own safety before yours." + +"As if anyone would go to the 'Spring Song' to see Marise's understudy!" +broke out Mrs. Sorel. + +"Well, in _my_ 'Spring Song' there's no understudy to take her part. She +has to play it herself," retorted Garth. "But I leave the decision to +her." + +As he spoke he looked straight at Marise--a warning look, as she read +it. The thought of his threat was sharp as the point of a knife, +pricking a painful reminder into her breast. + +The girl could hear every word he had said to her in the taxi between +church and hotel--hear the whole conversation as though it were being +repeated by a gramophone. If she ventured to promise Belloc and Sheridan +now that she would stay on in spite of her marriage, this big, +uncompromising fellow would turn his back on her, giving to the public +some garbled story of the desertion, a story which would shame her and +ruin Tony's plans. She could have stamped her foot and burst into tears, +as the emotional Spanish "Dolores" had to do in one scene of the play: +but the reporters were all eyes and ears, and would simply "eat" an +exhibition of the star's fury with her brand-new bridegroom. Oh, she was +at the beast's mercy in this first round of their fight--and well he +must know it, or he'd not dare give her such a lead! + +"Of course Marise wouldn't leave two old friends in the lurch at a +fortnight's notice," Mrs. Sorel gave her ultimatum. "This is only a joke +of Major Garth's." + +"No, Mums, I'm afraid it isn't," said the girl, her cheeks hot, her eyes +filling with tears. "We--we were talking things over in the taxi just +now, and--and--well anyhow there's a fortnight to get Susanne Neville +into shape as Dolores before I have to--go. She's so clever and pretty, +I shall probably be jealous as a cat of the hit she makes in 'Dolores.'" + +Mrs. Sorel was stricken dumb for once. Not that she intended to let +things fall to pieces in any such way; but she was sure Marise wouldn't +pronounce what sounded like her own doom without reason. Mums would have +it out with Marise and the Terrible Garth when everyone else had safely +faded away. + +The best she could do was to go herself to the vestibule door when the +reporters left in a body and breathe a few words to them. "I wouldn't +take all this as being definitely decided, if I were you. There may be a +quick change. Better say that nothing's settled." And again, when Belloc +and Sheridan gloomily departed, "Don't give up. I'll 'phone you later. +There's sure to be better news!" + +Returning, Mary Sorel the dauntless was surprised and disgusted to find +herself vaguely afraid of the man she had despised. She had the same +fear of him that one has of an impersonal force like electricity, which +cannot be counted on, and of which little is known except that it may +strike without considering one's feelings in the least. She tried to +shake off the sensation, however, for the man had evidently hypnotised +Marise in some secret, deadly way, perhaps by threats of violence. All +was lost if she--Mary--did not keep her head. + +She entered the salon, therefore, with a bustling air. "Now, Major +Garth," she began, "I hope to hear the meaning of this--this +_ridiculous_ talk of my daughter throwing over her engagement and going +West with you." + +"She's thrown over one engagement in favour of another, hasn't she?" +Garth inquired with his habitual quiet insolence. "If you asked the +Reverend Mr. Jones, I think he'd say she had." + +"I wish to ask no one anything about my daughter," Mrs. Sorel crushed +the upstart. "I merely assert that it's time this nonsense ceased. It's +gone disastrously far already." + +"It's up to you and Marise to say how much further it shall go." + +"'Marise'! Who gave you permission to call her Marise?" + +Garth laughed. Even the girl uttered a faint hysterical giggle. It was +rather funny to hear poor Mums ask that! But then Mums prided herself on +having no vulgar sense of humour to interfere with justice. + +"What would you like me to call her?" the man wanted to know. "'Miss +Sorel' would be hardly proper now. And for a husband to call his wife +'Mrs. Garth' would be more suited, wouldn't it, to the lower circles I +sprang from, than the high ones where she moves?" + +Mary Sorel was reduced to heaving silence. As she bit her lip, Garth +turned to Marise. "Would you prefer me to make things clear to your +mother, or would you rather I'd go, and leave it to you?" + +Marise snatched at the chance he gave. "Go, please," she answered +quickly. "I'll--tell Mums what you--said in the taxi. She and I will +talk things over, and--and I'll see you again to-morrow or sometime." + +"Or sometime," he echoed. + +The girl expected him to remind her rudely of the bridal suite he had +engaged in the hotel, but he did not. He took up his smart Guards cap, +laid the handsome lavender-grey overcoat on his arm, and went to the +door. "Au revoir," he said, pronouncing his French remarkably well for a +man of the lower stratum. Then, without a word as to the next meeting, +in spite of all his threats, he was gone. + +What _did_ it mean? Marise asked herself. Had he been bluffing? Or had +he seen the monstrous folly of terrorising her? She would have given +much to know. Perhaps he guessed that! + +Ostentatiously Mums flew to lock the door. She locked it loudly, and +running back took Marise into her arms. "My poor child!" she wailed. +"What has he _done_ to you? You are like a dove with a snake!" + +Strange, that in a turmoil of anger and dread as she was, Marise was +continually wanting to laugh! The thought of herself as a fluttering +dove and the big, brutal Garth as a sinuous snake was comic! But there +was, alas, nothing else comic in the situation, and she explained it as +she saw it, while Mums punctuated each sentence with moans. + +"It's awful!" sighed Mary at last. "But there's nothing really to be +_feared_, so we must cheer up. Our protection is that this fellow's poor +as a church rat (I _can't_ call him a mouse!). When it comes to the +point he will have to toe the mark, and keep to his bargain----" + +"Ah, that's it!" cried Marise. "He says through _my_ action the bargain +is off. He wouldn't explain what he meant: said I'd see for myself +sooner or later. But I don't see yet. Do you?" + +"I do not, indeed. I believe it's only more wicked bluff on his part. He +talks of taking you West with him. What does he expect you to live on? +Your own money? He hasn't got his million dollars yet, and he'll lose +the lot unless he behaves himself," Mums laid down the law. "For +goodness' sake, though, don't complain to Tony of the creature's +threats! Tony would fight him--kill him, perhaps. What a sickening +scandal! No, you've made an appalling mistake by marrying Garth before +you needed to do so, and giving him a hold over you just as Tony is +going so far away. But you can take care of yourself--or if you can't I +can take care of you. As for this suite the man boasts about, I'll +'phone down now to the manager and question him. If it adjoins this, as +it probably does--that would have been arranged if possible, no +doubt--why, everything will be simple enough." + +Marise did not answer. She was beginning to think that nothing was quite +simple where Garth was concerned. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHY THE BARGAIN WAS OFF + + +Marise started late for the theatre, because she felt unequal to coping +with her fellow actors' and actresses' well-meaning good wishes. She +went alone with Céline, for Mums had developed a nervous sick headache, +and the girl, like a dutiful daughter, had begged her to rest at home. + +"You'll be more able to help me out with--any complications that may +come afterwards," she said. + +The star's wonderfully decorated dressing-room was entered through a +still more wonderfully decorated reception or ante-room; and almost +running in, Marise stopped short with a gasp of surprise. Not only was +the place crammed with flowers--all white, bridal flowers (that in +itself was not strange), but in the midst of them sat Garth, still in +uniform. As his wife appeared he rose, grave and silent, as if awaiting +a cue. + +"Take these things into the dressing-room, Céline," ordered Marise, +tossing her gold bag and furs to the maid. "I'll be there in a minute." + +When Céline had obeyed, the girl looked the man up and down. + +"Visitors don't intrude here, except by invitation," she informed him. + +"Have you invited Lord Severance to intrude?" Garth asked. + +"No-o, I haven't invited him." + +"But he's coming, isn't he?" + +"Possibly he may come. You know quite well, that's different." + +"I do know. Just because it _is_ different, I don't mean him to come +unless I'm here too. But I've no wish to interfere with you otherwise. +And if you tell me on your honour that you won't receive Severance alone +(I don't count your maid as a chaperon), I'll go now. By the way, don't +blame anyone for admitting me. The news is in all the late editions of +the evening papers, I suppose you know, and naturally the bridegroom was +expected to pay a call upon the bride." + +Marise gazed at the formidable figure in khaki for a minute, and then +without a word went into her dressing-room. + +Mums, very likely, would have told the man a fib, getting rid of him by +a promise not to see Severance alone. But the girl--though she, too, +told fibs sometimes if driven into a corner--couldn't bring herself to +utter one now. There was no time for a "scene," even if she were not in +danger of coming out second best, so the dignified course was to retire. +Tony wouldn't show up till the end of the first act at earliest; and if +then she stood talking to someone or other outside her dressing-room as +long as she dared, there might be time for a whisper with him while the +watch-dog lay vainly in wait on the wrong side of the door! + +Helped by Céline she dressed quickly, hearing no sound from the +ante-room until the call-boy bounded in to shout her name. Instantly she +ran through, half hoping that Garth had gone, though determined not to +glance in his direction if he were still on the spot. He was; and +somehow, without looking, Marise knew that he was quietly reading a book +as if the place belonged to him. + +Wild applause greeted the entrance of "Dolores," applause even more +ardent than usual, and the play had to stop for the bride reluctantly to +bow her acknowledgments. Marise had passed such an "upsetting" day that +she came near having an attack of stage-fright, fearful of not taking +her cue, or "drying up" in her words. But to her surprise and relief, +she felt herself stronger in the part than she had ever been before. "I +believe I really _am_ a great actress!" she thought; and choked at the +pity of it--the pity that--whatever happened now--she was bound to leave +the stage. "Is Tony worth it all?" she wondered. But the Other Man's +figure loomed so tall in the foreground, that she could not concentrate +on Tony long enough to answer her own question. + +Never had "Dolores" been impatient of too many curtain calls until now: +but to-night they were irritating. They wasted such a lot of time, and +any moment Tony might come! + +There was little time to linger outside her dressing-room, but she did +linger for a few minutes, talking with the reproachful Belloc. No card +or message was brought to her, however, and she knew that Severance +would not have been sent into her room without her permission. Garth sat +stolid as a Buddha when she passed through, and she went by him as if he +were a piece of furniture. She received a telepathic impression that he +did not lift his eyes from his book! + +The leading man had a scene with the villain of the piece at the +beginning of the second act, and this gave the star a chance to rest, or +chat with friends. It was the time when Severance generally dropped in, +and she "felt in her bones" that his name would now be announced. Nor +were her vertebræ deceived. Prompt to the usual moment a knock, answered +by Céline, brought news that "the Earl of Severance asked to see Miss +Sorel." + +"Tell him I'll come outside and talk with him!" she said on an impulse: +but in the ante-room Garth stopped her. + +"Don't you think," he said, "that you'd better have Severance shown in +here? He won't be pleased if I come out with you as if from your +dressing-room, _en famille_, so to speak. And I _shall_ go out if you +go, as in the circumstances I don't care for you to speak with him +alone." + +"Alone, do you call it, with stage hands and creatures of all sorts +tearing about?" Marise rebelled. + +"You can build up a wall with a whisper," said Garth. + +As the girl hovered at the door, undecided, Céline returned. "Milord is +waiting outside, Mademoiselle--I mean, Madame," she announced. + +"Go back," ordered Marise, "and ask Lord Severance after all to come +in." + +The fat was in the fire now, indeed! Poor Mums' counsels concerning Tony +were vain. He would see for himself how Garth repudiated the bargain. +But it couldn't be helped. Better to have a "row" in her own quarters +than outside! + +Severance walked into the reception room, at his handsomest in evening +dress. He came with his hands out to the lovely "Dolores," but let them +fall at sight of Garth, and stopped just over the threshold, with a +scowl bringing his black brows together. + +Céline flitted by, and shut the door of the dressing-room behind her. + +"What are _you_ doing here?" Tony flung out the words; yet he had an odd +air of keeping his own truculence under control. Marise did not quite +understand his manner, in which prudent hesitation fought with anger. +But perhaps Garth understood. He knew why Severance's tooth was loose. + +"I'm here," he said, "because I don't choose to have my wife talking +with you alone." + +Severance turned to the girl. "Marise, do you permit this man to be in +your room, pretending to control your actions?" + +"I have to," retorted Marise. "Since he won't leave us alone, we must +just say what we have to say before him, whether he enjoys it or not. He +isn't behaving at all according to--to contract. I would have said +'bargain,' only, whenever I mention that, he tells me there _isn't_ a +bargain. According to him, I've somehow destroyed it." + +Severance looked stricken. "Wha--what does he mean by that?" + +"I don't know. Ask him. We've got about fifteen minutes to have this +out, before I'm called." + +"That's what I'm anxious to do, 'have it out,'" said Garth. "But don't +be alarmed, my wife; there'll be no violence started by me. If there is +any it will come from the other side, whereupon I shall put the +disturber of the peace out of your room. I'm stronger than he is +physically, as he knows: and I hope to prove stronger in other ways." + +"Don't talk like the villain of a Melville melodrama!" blurted +Severance. + +"I don't think _I'm_ the villain of the piece," said Garth calmly. +"Anyhow, we won't have more words about this than we need. My wife and +you both want me to explain why I say she has made the so-called +'bargain,' nil. I believe, Lord Severance--to put the thing as it is--to +face the facts--you proposed hiring me for the sum of a million dollars, +to marry Miss Sorel, treat her as a stranger when we were alone, and as +a kind husband in company, so there should be no ugly gossip about the +marriage. Then, when you were free from the invalid wife you're +financially compelled to take, I was supposed to step out of your way by +letting this lady quietly divorce me." + +It was useless to protest against so bald a way of putting the matter, +which sounded disgusting to Severance, and could have been thus put, he +considered, only by a very temporary gentleman. Therefore he did not +protest. He replied with stifled fury that, willingly, even eagerly, +Major Garth had consented to play a dummy's part in order to earn an +easy million. + +"Exactly," said Garth. "Well, I _have_ married Miss Sorel. Where's the +million?" + +"You know as well as I do I haven't got the money yet, and can't get it +till it's given me, as promised, by my uncle Constantine Ionides, after +my wedding." + +"So you explained the other day. You admit you can't carry out your half +of the bargain. Yet I've carried out mine." + +"That's on your own head!" barked Severance. "If you were so keen on +money down, you shouldn't have married Miss Sorel till you could get +it." + +"What--you, an officer in the Guards, would advise a brother officer of +the Brigade to refuse to marry a lady if she proposed to him?" + +"Oh!" cried Marise; and Garth smiled at her with the yellow-grey eyes +which were more than ever like the eyes of a lion. "You _did_ propose, +didn't you?" + +"I--said I wanted to be married--to-day," the girl hedged. "If you call +that----" + +"I do. Any man would. You were in a hurry. You hoped, you said, that +things might be fixed up for the wedding in an hour--or less. I fixed +things up. We were married. Now I don't get my money. Consequently I +consider myself free of any obligations concerned with the bargain. +Though I'm willing to take legal opinion on the point, if you like?" + +"A nice figure you'd cut if you did!" exploded Severance. + +"I should say, 'the woman--or the earl--tempted me, and I did eat.' I +ate by request. And I'm entitled to a core to my apple. There isn't any +core. So I have the right either to chuck the peel away and let it fall +in the mud, or else to hang on to it, and make up the best way I can for +what lacks." + +"I should like to kill you, Garth," said Severance. + +"Well, when we're both safely out of my wife's dressing-room and this +theatre, I'll give you a chance to try." + +The lids over the dark, Greek eyes flickered slightly. Between the two +men was a memory, a picture: a room at the Belmore Hotel, with a table +and some chairs overturned: a few spots of blood on a lavender tie: not +the tie of Garth. + +"Being out of her theatre wouldn't save Miss Sorel from scandal if we +made fools of ourselves," Tony said. + +"That's the sensible view," agreed Garth. "I'm at your service for war +or peace. But the fact remains that I am Marise Sorel's husband, and as +I'm not paid for taking on the job, you, Severance, have no concern with +my conduct to her. The rest is between my wife and myself. If she wishes +me to leave her I will do so now, at this moment--on my own terms. If +she wishes me to stay by her side for appearance' sake, I'll stay--also +on my own terms." + +"What are your terms?" Tony's dry lips formed the words almost without +sound. + +"They'll be settled to-night between my wife and me. You have nothing +whatever to do with them." + +"If--if you fail in respect for her, you never get your million dollars +when the time comes!" Severance almost sobbed. + +"When the time comes--the time can decide," said Garth. + +"Miss Sorel!" bawled the call-boy at the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE BRIDAL SUITE + + +It was, as Severance told himself, the damnedest scrape! And he could +see no present way out of it. Turn as he would, he was merely running +round and round in a "vicious circle." + +He couldn't murder Garth, or otherwise eliminate him, without setting +fire to his dearest hopes, and seeing his fortune go up in a blaze. +Garth mustn't be allowed to walk away from Marise, leaving her in the +position of a deserted bride, after a sensational wedding. Nor could +Severance bear to think of the man's remaining near her, now that he +proclaimed the bargain "off," and himself free and independent. + +If only the fellow might be knocked over by a taxi and killed, there +would be the perfect solution! But even that ought not to happen just +yet. It wouldn't do for Marise to be known as a widow before he, +Severance, could bring OEnone to America as a bride. The celebrated +Miss Sorel might as well never have been married at all, so far as old +Constantine Ionides was concerned. + +There were two faintly glimmering spots in the general blackness of +things. _Bright_ spots they hardly deserved to be called! Such as they +were, one was the fact that Garth--despite his bluff--was unlikely to +sacrifice all hope of the million by making forbidden love to Marise. +The other gleam was: even if Garth did play the fool as well as the cad, +Marise had asserted up to the last moment that she could take care of +herself. + +Severance had reason to believe that she could. If she'd not had a cool +little head, and a high opinion of her own value, the favourite actress +would not have attained the position she held. "Lots of chaps had been +after her," including Tony Severance: men of title, men with money, men +of genius, men of charm, and she had held her own with them all, forcing +their respect. Well, there wasn't much chance for a bullying brute of +Garth's stamp, to get the best of a girl like that! + +So Severance consoled himself, after his decision at the theatre that +nothing would be gained by attempting to "rescue" Marise from Garth. +After leaving her--bidding her good-bye for long and anxious weeks--he +could not resist 'phoning Mrs. Sorel at the Plaza, though Marise had +told him that Mums was bowled over by a sick headache. He rang the poor +lady up--literally up!--and discussed the situation with her, not daring +to call for fear of detectives set upon him by cable from London. The +poor lady, dragged out of bed, was sympathetic and soothing. Everything +was "perfectly all right," she assured him. She would watch over Marise +for his sake as well as her own. Marise would watch over herself, too! +And she--Mary Sorel--would write or cable Tony to his club twice or +three times a week. + +"I'd go down to the docks and see you off to-morrow morning, dear boy, +no matter at what ghastly hour you sail," Mums said, "only I don't think +it would be wise, do you?" + +No, Tony didn't. But she might send him a note by messenger to the ship, +with all the latest news. + +She would do that without fail, Mary promised; and so at last hung up +the receiver with a sigh which would have frightened Severance had it +reached him on the wire. Mums was not as calm about the future as she +had tried to make her "dear boy" think! + +Though she had been lying down, she crawled off the bed again, and put +on a smart tea-gown before it was time for her daughter to come home. +She had little doubt that the Beast would be with Marise; and her own +attempt at "frightfulness" having failed against his armour of +brutality, she intended to try diplomacy in the next encounter. + +Already she had learned that the suite engaged by Major Garth for +himself and his bride did not adjoin the one occupied by herself and +Marise since their arrival in New York. It appeared that the manager had +offered a suite of two rooms and a bath next to the Sorel suite, but +Major Garth had refused this as being too small. Nothing "large enough +for his requirements" had been available near Mrs. Sorel; but +fortunately it was on the same floor. + +This, the manager seemed to think, ought to content the lady; and +indeed, she was obliged to pretend satisfaction. She would like to see +the suite, she had said; but to her dismay the privilege was refused +with regret. Major Garth, the manager explained, had given a "rush +order" for some special decorations to surprise Mrs. Garth; and he had +requested that no one--_no one at all_ except the decorators--should be +allowed to enter until the bridal pair arrived. + +"But," Mrs. Sorel had argued, "he couldn't have meant _me_. Besides, if +no one goes in, my daughter won't have any of her toilet things ready. +There will be a scramble and confusion when she comes home tired from +the theatre." + +The manager, however, was reluctantly firm. He "mustn't tell tales out +of school," but he thought he _might_ just relieve Mrs. Sorel's fears by +saying that there would be no trouble at all of that sort. The Major's +"surprise" would--he hoped--be as pleasing to her as to the bride. And +whatever had to be done in addition could be accomplished in a few +minutes by Mrs. Garth's maid. + +Naturally, Mrs. Sorel was on tenterhooks after this information, which +she had obtained by telephone, lying on her bed, soon after Marise and +Céline left for the theatre. It determined her to be prepared for +battle, no matter how ill she might feel: for it was impossible that +Marise should ever cross the threshold of that mysteriously decorated +suite. Therefore the neat coiffure of the aching head, and the dignified +tea-gown of satin and jet. + +On the few occasions when Mums had been unable to go with Marise to the +theatre, the girl had either returned early, or telephoned that she +would be late in reaching home. Mrs. Sorel expected her to start for the +hotel to-night the instant she was dressed and had her make-up off. She +would doubtless be thankful to escape questions, and get back to her +mother--which really meant, ridding herself of Garth. + +But time crept on. Marise was half an hour late: then three-quarters. +What could have happened? Had that monster kidnapped the poor child? + +At the thought, Mums experienced the sensation of cold water slowly +trickling through her spine. "What shall I do?" she wondered. And her +mind turned to the thought--the terrible thought--of applying to the +police. If she took this extreme step, what would be the result? Could a +man be arrested for abducting his own wife? + +As she writhed and sighed helplessly on a sofa in sight of the mantel +clock, Céline's familiar tap sounded at the door, and the Frenchwoman +came in. Mrs. Sorel's anguished eyes saw that she looked pale and +excited. Her own heart seemed to rise and shrug itself in her breast, +then collapse sickeningly upon other organs. + +"For Heaven's sake, where is Mademoiselle?" she panted. + +"Ah, Madame," sighed Céline, "we must speak of Mademoiselle no more." + +"Why--why?" broke in the distracted mother. + +"But, because she is now indeed 'Madame'! She is with--her _husband_." + +"Where?" gasped Mrs. Sorel. + +"In their suite. A suite of great magnificence." + +The unhappy Mums staggered to her feet, among falling cushions. + +"Good gracious!" she groaned. "He has dragged her there----" + +"No, no, Madame, it is not so bad as that," Céline soothed her. "_Madame +la Jeune Mariée_ appeared to go with Monsieur of her own will. She +showed no fear. She was only a little quiet--a little strange. It must +have been arranged at the theatre, what was to happen, for I was with +them in a car--but yes, a car, no taxi!--which Monsieur had ordered to +wait at the stage door. I sat, not with the chauffeur, but inside on one +of the little fold-up seats. The two did not speak at all, Madame, not +once, till we had arrived here, at the hotel. Then Mademoiselle--I mean +Madame Garth--said, 'I should like Céline to come with me.' 'Very well, +let her come,' Monsieur answered. That was all. I went with them. +Monsieur asked for his key. It was given him. We were taken up in the +_ascenseur_ to this floor. But instead of turning to the right, we +turned left. Monsieur unlocked the door, switched on lights, and stood +aside for Madame his wife to pass. Even me, he let go in before him. +Then he followed and shut the door." + +"What then?" breathed Mrs. Sorel. + +"Mon Dieu, Madame, the suite was of a magnificence! It must be the best +in the house. The suite in which they put royalties who come visiting +from Europe. And not only that, the whole place has been made a garden +of flowers--wonderful flowers. This Monsieur le Majeur must be, after +all, though he does not look it, a millionaire!" + +"He is far from being a millionaire," sneered Mums. "He hasn't a sou, so +far as I've heard. He'll probably charge all this wild extravagance to +us. He's capable of it--capable of _anything_! But go on." + +"Well, Madame, the suite has an entrance hall of its own, not a tiny +vestibule like this one. The hall has many pots of gorgeous azaleas, of +colours like a sunrise in paradise. _Madame la Jeune Mariée_ walked into +the salon. The husband went also. But, me, I stood outside waiting. I +could see into the room, however. I chose my place for that purpose, to +see! A lovely salon of pearl grey and soft rose. And the flowers there +were all roses, different shades of pink. There were many, some growing +in pots, very tall; some cut ones in crystal vases and jars: and on a +table, a marvellous bowl, illuminated, with flowers floating on the +surface of bright water. Also, Madame, there were presents, jewels in +cases. If these, as Madame says, are to be charged to her, Mon Dieu, it +will be a disaster!" + +"What were the presents?" The question asked itself, out of the turmoil +that was Mums' mind. But behind the turmoil a voice seemed crying, "Why +do you stop here talking of trifles, instead of rushing to save your +wretched child?" + +But Céline was replying. After all, what use to go, since the door of +the suite would be closed, and one could not shriek and beat upon the +panels for the whole world to hear! + +"There was a large case with a double row of pearls. It must be, I +think, not a string, but a rope. There was also a lovely thing for the +hair, a wreath of laurel leaves made of green stones, doubtless +emeralds. And there was a pendant, a star of diamonds with a great +cabochon sapphire--Mademoiselle's beloved jewel!--in the centre. There +may have been other things, but those were all I remarked. I saw them +from the doorway. Yet, if Madame will believe me, _la Jeune Mariée_ did +not regard them. Neither did Monsieur draw her attention to his +gifts--no, not by gesture nor word." + +"She must have said _something_!" cried Mary. + +"She murmured that the flowers were charming. You would have thought she +had not seen the jewels, though she must have seen them, Madame, if I +saw from my distance. Monsieur asked if she would like to view the rest +of the suite. She answered, 'Oh yes, please!' Then, out into the +entrance hall they came. Monsieur threw open the door of a room next the +salon, and as he did so put on the lights. But--with that, he stepped +back. My young lady called me, 'Céline!' I ran to her, and he stopped +there in the hall. Ah, another surprise! Not the beauty of this great +bedroom. That one would expect in such a suite--a _white_ room, Madame, +and white flowers, roses not too heavily perfumed! But the surprise was +on the toilet-table. Brushes, bottles, everything, oh, so delicious a +set!--in gold. A queen could have no better. On the bed, Madame, lay a +_robe de chambre_ more beautiful than any that Mademoiselle has ever +possessed--which Madame knows, is to say much!--and on the floor--like +blossoms fallen on the white fur rug--lay a little pair of _mules_, made +of gold embroidery on cloth of silver, and having buckles of old paste +fit for the slippers of Cinderella! When she had looked round for a few +moments, quite silent, Madame, the bride turned to me. 'Now you have +seen what is here, Céline,' she said, 'you can go to my room and bring +me just the things you think I shall need.'" + +"Did she give you the key of the suite?" Mary asked sharply. + +"But no, Madame, she did not give me a key. I shall have to knock." + +"Very well, run and put a few things together," Mary directed. "It +doesn't much matter what, as Mademois--my daughter--will not, I think, +stay long in the suite. When you are ready, come back here to me. I will +go down with you. When the door is opened, I shall walk in before it can +be shut. But mind, you will speak or hint to _no_ one of what I do, or +what I say to you--or what you may see or overhear." + +"Madame may depend upon me," Céline assured her. "Ah, that poor Milord +Severance! _Mais, c'est le Destin!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +KEEPING UP APPEARANCES! + + +"You said at the theatre, if I trusted you enough to come here with +you," Marise began as Céline left, "you would tell me a plan you thought +I'd approve. Well, I did trust you! I _had_ to, just as I had to this +afternoon when you said the same thing in the taxi. Here I am. But so +far, I don't see anything that reassures me much. All the flowers and +jewel-cases and gold things are beautiful bribes. The only trouble about +them is, that _I_ don't take bribes--even if you can afford to offer +them!" + +"I understand that emphasis," said Garth. "_You_ don't take bribes. I +do. And you think, in making this collection I've 'gambled in futures.'" + +Marise was silent. + +"That's what you do think, isn't it?" he insisted. + +"Something of the sort may have flitted through my head." + +"Well, if I'm not above bribery and corruption--and the rest of +it--that's on my own conscience. In other words, it's my own business. +Your business is--to keep up appearances, and at the same time keep up +the proprieties." + +"That's one way of expressing it!" + +"Yes, again my beastly vulgar way! But I won't stop to apologise because +I know you're in a hurry to settle this question between us once for +all. Because, when it is settled, it _will_ be once for all, so far as +I'm concerned." + +"I see. Go on, please!" + +He looked at her, a long look. "You and I are here alone together," he +said. "Husband and wife! For we _are_ married, you know. Does that make +you shiver--or shudder?" + +"I don't think we _feel_ very married--either of us," Marise answered in +a small, ingratiating voice, like a child's. + +"You don't know how I feel," said Garth. "But I'm not anxious to punish +you by torture for anything you've done, no matter what you may deserve, +so I won't keep you in suspense. You admit that if--we _did_ 'feel +married,' and if--we cared about each other as ordinary new-married +couples do, this 'bridal suite'--as they call it--would be the proper +dodge?" + +"Oh yes," agreed Marise, wondering what he was working up to. Her heart +was beating too fast for her wits to be at their nimblest, but she +hadn't missed those words of his which had either slipped out, or been +spoken with subtle purpose: "If we cared about each other." Only a few +days ago--apparently with his soul in his eyes--he had said that he'd +give that soul to get her for his own. Well, the incredible had +happened, and she _was_ his own--in a way. Was he so disgusted with her +behaviour and motives that he'd suddenly ceased to care? Or was he silly +enough to think it would hurt her if he pretended not to care? Certainly +she had done nothing worse than _he_ had! Whatever he might think, she +had married him largely from pique, to spite Tony Severance; though, of +course, that wasn't to say she wouldn't carry out Tony's scheme when the +time came. Whereas he, John Garth, had accepted a bribe. She was worth a +million dollars to Tony: and the million dollars were worth a basely +caddish act to Garth. + +"You want your friends and the public in general to believe we are the +ordinary loving couple, don't you?" he was asking. + +"Of course. I may have earned them, but I don't _want_ horrid things +said. Especially----" + +"Especially on Severance's account, and because of the arrangements he +proposes to make for your future, I suppose you were going to say. Why +stop?" + +"Because you suppose wrong. I wasn't going to say anything of the kind. +'Especially on account of poor Mums,' were the words on the tip of my +tongue. I stopped--well, I thought it sounded sentimental. Besides, +you'd probably not believe me." + +"I think I would believe you," said Garth. "I don't know you very well +yet, but things that have happened have shown me a bit of what you're +like, inside yourself. You've got plenty of faults. I should say you're +as selfish as they make 'em. You don't really take much interest in +anything that doesn't affect you and your affairs. You've been badly +spoiled, but not quite ruined: and I think you don't enjoy telling +lies." + +"Thank you for your charming compliments!" flashed Marise, the blood in +her cheeks. Spoiled indeed! Everyone said she was wonderfully +_un_spoiled--simple and sweet-natured as a child. Those were the people +who _knew_ her! + +"To get back to a more important subject," went on Garth; "I was going +to tell you that, honestly, one half the reason I took this suite and +made you come to it with me, was for your sake: to have you do the +right, conventional, bridal thing everyone expects of you, and would be +blue with curiosity if you didn't do. The other half was to find out +whether you were capable of rising to an occasion." + +"Rising--how?" questioned Marise. + +"Rising high enough to trust a man to do--after his lights--the decent +thing. Not to carry out a bargain, because there is none. I'd be +breaking no promise if I grabbed you in my arms this moment. I mean, the +decent thing that any man owes any woman who puts herself in his power. +Now I've said enough. You'll understand me better in a minute by going +over this suite, than by listening to an hour's explanation in words. +I'll wait for you here." (They were in the salon.) "Walk round, and draw +your own conclusions. Then come back and tell me what the conclusions +are." + +Marise was quite sharp enough to guess what he meant, but--stepping out +into the azalea-filled entrance hall, she passed the open door of the +beautiful white bedroom. Beyond it was another door. She opened this, +and touching an electric switch, flooded a room with light. + +Here, too, was a bedroom, smaller, less elaborate, more suited to the +occupation of a man than the other. Instead of the carved white wood and +gilded cane of the room next door, the furniture was mahogany, of the +Queen Anne period; and the carpet, instead of pale Aubusson, was the +colour of wallflowers. There were some plain ebony brushes and toilet +things on the dressing-table, and underneath the table were boot-trees. +Evidently Garth had had his belongings brought over from the Belmore! + +A glance sufficed Marise. She went slowly back to the salon where Garth +stood staring down on the display of jewellery on the table. + +"Well?" He looked up with something defiant and oddly sullen about his +face. "You understand my 'plan'?" + +"Yes," said Marise. "I understand. But----" + +"But what? Didn't you try the door between that other room and your own, +and satisfy yourself that it's locked with the key on your side?" + +"I didn't try it," the girl answered, "because--I was somehow sure it +would be like that." + +"Why were you sure?" + +"I don't know, exactly. I was." + +"Your sureness was the result of trust in me, as a decent man in spite +of the fact that you think I'm not a gentleman?" + +"Ye-es, I suppose it was trust." + +"Then why that 'but' just now?" + +"Oh--it's rather hard to put into words what was to come after the +'but'--without hurting your feelings. And I don't want to do that. It +only makes things a lot worse." + +"I don't mind having my feelings hurt. I'm hardened. Besides, if you +hurt mine I'm free to hurt yours if I like in return. Shoot!" + +"Well--I believe you mean what you've said to me--and shown me. I do +trust you--now. But for how long dare I? Can you trust yourself?" + +He smiled down at her; and it _looked_ like a scornful smile, but of +course it couldn't be that. "Your question is easy to answer," he said. +"I trust myself, and shall continue to trust myself, because there's no +temptation to resist. I shall keep to my own half of this suite, with +the less difficulty because I haven't the slightest wish to intrude on +yours. Now you know where you stand. But there's a knock! I suppose +that's your maid." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A SHOCK AND A SNUB OR TWO + + +It was the maid. It was also Mrs. Sorel, who pushed past Céline and +darted into the hall. + +"My darling!" she shrilled at sight of Marise. "You look as if you'd had +a most horrible shock!" + +It was just this that the girl had had: the shock of her life. She, +undesired--_not_ a temptation! Alone with a man--a mere brute--who had +the strength and the legal right to take her against her will, but +remained cold; did not want her. + +She might have believed this statement to be a sequel to that hint about +"hurting her feelings if he liked," but Garth's face was cold. It might +have been carved from rock. It looked like rock--that red-brown kind. +There was no fierce, controlled passion in the tawny eyes, such as men +on the stage would carefully have betrayed in these situations, or such +as men had far from carefully betrayed to her in real life, disgusting +or frightening her at the time: though afterwards the scene had pleased, +or--well _flattered_ her to dwell on in safe retrospect. It was rather +glorious, though sometimes painful, she'd often said to herself, the +power she had to make men _feel_. Yet this Snow-man didn't feel at all. +He simply _didn't_! You could see that by his icicle of a face. + +"You mustn't worry, dear Mums," soothed Marise. "I'm doing the best +thing for everyone: keeping up appearances! And as Major Garth dislikes +me--I am not his style, it seems--I'm perfectly safe. Safe as if I were +in our rooms, with you." + +Garth gazed gravely at Mrs. Sorel. "She's safer than with you, Madame. I +assure you she's as safe as--as if she were in cold storage." + +Mary gasped. + +Marise laughed. + +But she felt as though she'd read in a yellow newspaper that Miss Sorel +was the plainest girl and the worst actress in the world. + + * * * * * + +Mums was persuaded to go, at last, after having upbraided her daughter, +with tears, for forcing them all--including Lord Severance--into such a +deplorable, such a perilous situation. + +As for the peril, after Garth's words, and still more his _look_, all +thrill of danger and the chance of a fight, with a triumphant if +exhausting close, had died. Marise felt dull and "anti-climaxy," and +homesick for her friends, the dear public who loved and appreciated her. +Céline remained to undress her mistress, having (despite Mrs. Sorel's +advice) brought various articles from Marise's own room. When at last +the bride was ready for bed in a dream of a "nighty" fetched by her +maid, Céline thought of the jewels on a table in the salon. + +By this time the room was empty, Garth having retired like a bear to his +den; and the Frenchwoman took it on herself to transfer the valuables to +the bedroom adjoining. "They will be safer here," she said. "Unless +Mademoiselle--Madame--would like me to carry the cases to the other +suite and put them in the care of Madame his mother." + +"No, leave everything here," directed Marise. + +She had made up her mind not to keep the gifts. They were beautiful, and +she wouldn't have been a woman if she'd not wanted them. But she wanted +still more the stern splendour of handing the spoil back to Garth, +advising him to return the jewels whence they came, since _only +millionaires_ should buy such expensive objects. But she would not of +course take a servant, even Céline--who knew everything and a little +more than everything--into her confidence. + +She gave the Frenchwoman a key (which had been handed her by Garth) to +use in the morning, when the time came for early tea, a bath, and being +dressed. Then, when the maid had departed with a click of the outer +door, an idea sprang into the mind of Marise. At first she thought it +would not do. Then she thought it would. And the more she thought in +both directions, the more she was enmeshed by the idea itself. + +Only half an hour had elapsed since Garth went to his room. The man +wouldn't be human, after what they'd passed through, if he had gone to +bed. Marise was sure he had done no such thing: and she fancied that she +caught a faint whiff of tobacco stealing through the keyhole of that +stout locked door between their rooms. + +At last she could no longer resist the call of the blood--or whatever it +was. She switched on the light again, jumped up, and looked for a +dressing-gown. Bother! Céline hadn't brought one--had taken it for +granted she would use that wonderful thing which Garth's taste--or the +taste of some hidden guide of his--had provided. + +Well, what did it matter, anyhow? She would slip it on--and the +sparkling gold and silver _mules_, too. She glanced in the long Psyche +mirror. She _did_ look divine! Even a rock-carved statue couldn't deny +that! Gathering up the jewels, she unlocked the door which led into the +hall, and tapped at the door of Garth's room, adjoining her own. + +"If you're not in bed," she called, "come out a minute, will you? I've +something important to say." + +All that was minx in Marise was revelling in the thought that presently +Garth would suffer a disappointment. He would imagine that she wished to +plead for grace from him. Then, before he could snub her, she'd give +_him_ the snub of his life--just as he had given her, Marise Sorel, the +shock of hers! + +Garth did not answer at once. The girl was hesitating whether to call +him again, when his voice made her start. It sounded _sleepy_! "I _am_ +in bed," he said. "What do you want? Is it too important to wait till +morning?" + +"It's merely that I wished to put the jewels which were left in the +salon into your charge," Marise replied with freezing dignity. "I do not +think they are safe there." + +"Wouldn't they be safe enough with you?" came grumpily--yes, +grumpily!--through the closed door. + +"No doubt. But I don't wish to have the responsibility, as I don't care +to accept them...." + +"Oh, I see! Well, if that's your decision, it doesn't matter whether +they're safe or not. Leave the things in the corridor if your room's too +sacred for them. If that's all you want, I shall not get out of bed." + +What a man! + +"One would think you were a multi-millionaire!" Marise couldn't resist +that one last, sarcastic dig. "So I may be for all you know. Do what you +like with the silly old jewels." + +Marise threw the cases on the floor as loudly as she could. She knew +that the outer door was locked, and that Céline would be the first +person in, when morning came, so the act wasn't as reckless as it +seemed. But it was a relief to her nerves at the moment. + +The filmy dressing-gown, the sparkling _mules_, the hair down, the +general heartbreaking divineness, were _wasted_. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DREAM + + +Marise slept little, in what was left of that strange wedding night. + +She tried to think of Tony Severance, who must be suffering tortures +through his love and fears for her. But somehow he had lost importance. +He had become a figure in the background. Her thoughts would turn their +"spot light" upon the man in the adjoining room. + +Was he asleep? Was he awake? Was he thinking about her, and if so, what? +Why had he married her? If it was for love, as she had fancied at first, +could he have treated her as he had? That was hard to believe! Yet it +was harder to believe his motives wholly mercenary. + +"Perhaps that's because I'm vain," the girl told herself. And she +remembered, her cheeks hot, how Garth had accused her of vanity and +selfishness. He'd said that she took no interest in anything which +didn't concern Marise Sorel. She had been angry then, and thought him +unjust and hard. But in her heart she knew that he had touched the +truth. She _was_ vain and selfish. And she was hard, too, just as hard +to him as he to her. + +"_He_ has made me so!" she excused herself. "I was never hard to anyone +else before, in all my life." + +But she could not rest on this special pleading. What right had she to +be hard to this man? She had _asked_ him to marry her. His crime was +that he had granted her wish and consented to play this dummy hand; and +now the deed was done he was not grovelling to her or to Tony Severance. +How much more _British_ he seemed, by the by, than dark, Greek Tony, of +subtle ways! + +At luncheon, talking with Pobbles, he had spoken of Yorkshire as _his_ +county. Marise wondered what he had meant. But, of course, she would not +ask. John Garth's past was no affair of hers. Still, she couldn't stop +puzzling about him. She puzzled nearly all night. He was turning out +such a different man from the man she had vaguely imagined! In fact, he +was different from any man she had ever met, off the stage or on. + +Staring into darkness as the hours passed, Marise felt that she could +not wait for Céline. She'd get up at dawn, dress, and flit to her own +room in Mums' suite. But no! She couldn't do that. She hadn't a key to +that suite. She would have to pound on the door, and other people beside +Mums and Céline would hear. There would be gossip--which she'd +sacrificed much already to avoid. + +Dreading the long night of wakefulness, the girl suddenly dropped fast +asleep, and began at once to dream of Garth. Zélie Marks was in the +dream, too, and--dreams are so ridiculous!--Marise was jealous. What had +happened between the two she didn't know; but she would have known in +another instant, for Zélie was going to confess, if a rap had not +sounded at the door and made her sit up in a fright. Marise was just +about to cry, "You can't come in!" when she realised that it was the +peculiar double knock of Céline. + +The Frenchwoman was prompt, though the night had seemed so long. Her +mistress sipped hot, fragrant Orange Pekoe from an eggshell cup, and in +a whisper bade Céline move quietly, not to rouse Monsieur Garth in the +next room. + +"Oh, Mademoiselle--Madame!" said the maid. + +"Monsieur has gone out, early as it is. His door is wide open." + +Marise must have slept more soundly than she knew. She hadn't heard a +sound. + +It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Céline about the jewel-cases--if +they were lying in the corridor. But she couldn't put such a question! +The maid would be too curious--she would fancy there had been some +vulgar quarrel instead of--instead of--well, Marise hardly knew how to +qualify her own conduct. + +"I'm afraid I _was_ vulgar," she thought, like a child repenting last +night's misdeeds. "It was horrid of me to throw those lovely things on +the floor. Poor fellow, he must have spent a fortune--_somebody's_ +fortune (whose, I wonder?)--on those pearls, and diamonds and emeralds, +and all the rest. Yet I never said one word of gratitude. I was never +such a brute before!... I'm sure it _must_ be his fault. Still--I don't +like myself one bit better than I like him." + +As Garth had gone out, there was no great need for haste. Céline had +brought all that was needed, and Marise might dress--as well as +repent--at leisure. But she was wild with impatience to know whether the +jewels were lying where she had thrown them. While Céline was letting +the bath-water run, the girl peeped out into the flower-scented +corridor. The jewel-cases had gone! + +This discovery gave her a slight shock. She had more than half expected +to see them on the floor, and had wondered what she would do if they +were there--whether she would pick them up and decide to accept the +gifts after all, with a stiff, yet decent little speech of gratitude. +"I'm sure you meant to do what I would like, and I don't wish to hurt +your feelings," or something of that sort. + +_Now_, what should she do? The probability was that Garth himself had +retrieved his rejected treasures. But there was just a chance--such +horrors happened in hotels!--that a thief had pussy-footed into the +suite to search for wedding presents, and had found them easily in an +unexpected place. That would be _too_ dreadful! Because, if +she--Marise--held her tongue, Garth would always believe that _she_ had +annexed the things, and had chosen to be sulkily silent. + +"I shall have to bring up the subject somehow, the next time we +meet--whenever that may be!" she thought ruefully. + +When Mrs. Garth arrived in the maternal suite, it was about the hour +when Miss Sorel had been in the habit of slipping, half-dressed, from +bedroom to salon. It was the time, also, when Miss Zélie Marks was +accustomed to present herself, and begin her morning tasks: sharpening +pencils, sorting letters, etc. But to-day the salon was unoccupied. The +letters lay in a fat, indiscriminate heap, just as Céline had received +them from one of the floor-waiters. + +Mrs. Sorel was still in bed, and still suffering from last night's +headache, which had increased, rather than diminished. She burst into +tears at sight of Marise, but was slowly pacified on hearing the story +of the night. + +"He was afraid to----" she began; but the girl broke in with the +queerest sensation of anger. "He _wasn't_ afraid--of _anything_! +Whatever else he may have been, he wasn't afraid. I don't believe the +creature knows how to be afraid." + +Mrs. Sorel did not insist. She didn't wish to waste time discussing +Garth. She wanted to talk of Tony. There was a letter from him. It had +come by hand, early--sent as he was starting. Of course he hadn't dared +write to Marise direct, but there was an enclosure for her. + +"You had better read it now," advised Mums. "At any moment that man may +turn up, asking for you, and trying to make some scene." + +Marise took the crested envelope that had come inside her mother's note +from Tony; but somehow or other she felt an odd repulsion against it. +She didn't care to read what Tony had to say to Mrs. John Garth at +parting; and she had an excuse to procrastinate because, just then, the +telephone sounded in the salon adjoining. + +"Will you go, dearest? Or shall I ring for Céline?" Mums asked. + +Marise answered by walking into the salon and picking up the receiver. +Her heart was beating a little with the expectation of Garth's voice +from--somewhere. Their own suite, perhaps? But a woman was speaking. + +"Is it you, Mrs. Sorel?" was the question that came. And the heart-beats +were not calmed, for Marise recognised the contralto tones of Miss +Marks, the villainess of her dream. + +"No, it's I, _Miss_ Sorel," she answered. "What's the matter? Aren't you +coming as usual?" + +"I am sorry, no, I can't come," replied the voice across the wire. "I +thought that now--you're married, _Mrs. Garth_, and going away before +long, I should no longer be required. But in any case I----" + +"If we hadn't required your services we should have told you, and given +you two weeks' salary in lieu of notice," snapped Marise professionally. + +"I hardly supposed you had time to think about me, everything was so +confused yesterday," Zélie excused herself. "Anyhow, Mrs. Garth, I must +give notice myself, for I've had news which will take me out of New York +at once. I've got to start by the next train. It doesn't matter about +money. I was paid up only a few days ago. We were just starting +fresh----" + +"I'm sure my mother will wish to pay, and insist upon doing so," said +Marise. "When does your train go?" + +"I'm not certain to the minute," hedged Miss Marks. "But I have to pack. +I----" + +"That won't prevent your receiving an envelope with what we owe you in +it," persisted Marise. "I suppose you're 'phoning from your flat?" + +"Yes--no. Yes. But I'll be gone before a messenger could get here. +_Please_ don't trouble." + +"Very well, give me your address at the town where you're going," Marise +said. "We can post you on a cheque." + +"I can't do that, I'm afraid," objected Miss Marks. "I shall be moving +about from place to place for awhile. It's really no _use_, Mrs. Garth, +thank you--though of course it's kind of you to care. Please say +good-bye to Mrs. Sorel for me. You've both been very good." + +"I wish you'd sent us word last night," said Marise, whose eyes were +bright, and whose hand, holding the receiver, had begun to throb as if +she had a heart in her wrist. + +"I didn't know last night. The news I spoke of came this morning." + +"It must have come early!" + +"It did. Good-bye, Mrs. Garth." + +"Wait just a second. Are you going--West?" + +"Ye-es. For awhile." + +"You can't tell me where?" + +"Oh, several places. Not far from my old home." + +"Did you ever mention where that was?" + +But no answer came. Either they had been cut off, or Zélie Marks had +impudently left the telephone. + +The dream came back to Marise--the dream where Garth and the +stenographer had been whispering together in a room where Marise could +not see them. + +"I believe he's with her now," the girl thought. "I believe when he went +out this morning he went straight to _her_. He's told her to do +something, and she intends to do it." + +To that question, "Are you going West?" Zélie had hesitatingly +responded, "Ye-es." What did it mean? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ACCORDING TO MUMS + + +That same afternoon, Mary Sorel began a letter to Severance, a letter +embroidered with points of admiration, dashes, underlinings, and +parentheses. + +"Dear Tony," she wrote, for she felt the warm affection of an Egeria, +mingled with that of a mother-in-law elect, for him: and it pleased all +that was snobbish in her soul to have this intimate feeling for an earl. + +"Dear Tony, I shall be cabling you about the time you land, according to +promise. But I promised as well to write a sort of _diary_ letter, +giving you all the developments day by day, and posting the document at +the end of the week. Well, this is the first instalment, written--as +you'll see by the date--on the day of your sailing. + +"How I wish I had better news to give you! But don't be alarmed. Things +are _not_ going as we hoped, yet they might be worse. And now you are +prepared by that preface, I'll try to tell you exactly the state of +affairs! + +"At least, I shall be able to explain a mystery that puzzled and worried +us both yesterday, after the--I suppose in lieu of a better word I'm +bound to call it 'marriage'! Neither you nor I could understand +precisely how _That Man_ had got my poor child so under his thumb, when +by rights _he_ should have been under _her foot_! + +"What he does is this: he simply threatens at every turn to go away and +tell everyone, _including newspaper men_, the whole story from beginning +to end. You might think with an ordinary person that this was all +_bluff_. Because, if the story hurt you and Marise, and even _me_, it +would hurt him as much. But whatever he may be (and he might be almost +_anything_!) he is _not_ an ordinary person. He appears perfectly +reckless of his own reputation. Apparently he cares not enough to lift +his finger, or let it fall, for the opinion of others, no matter _who_. +If he said he would do some dreadful thing it wouldn't be safe to hope +he was merely making an idle threat. He would _do_ it, I'm sure he +would! + +"That's the secret of his power over our poor little Marise, and I must +admit, to a certain extent over _me_. + +"I have been having a long talk with him about the future--the +_immediate_ future, I mean, of course, for the more distant future I +hope and believe will be controlled by _you_! + +"When I reproached the man for browbeating my daughter, he actually +retorted that we had no right to try and pin him to a certain line of +conduct, and not _pay_ him for it! _Shameless!_ But that sample will +show you what we are going _through_. I shall indeed rejoice for every +reason when you are restored to us. You have told me that your cousin +OEnone has what amounts to a million of American dollars, all her own, +and that her father intends giving you another million on your marriage +to her; so you will be in a position to complete your bargain with this +Fiend. In order to obtain the money, he will _have_ to keep his part of +the agreement. + +"Yes, 'Fiend' is the word. Indeed, I used it aloud this afternoon in +addressing him, so utterly did he enrage me. He will not allow Marise to +go with me to Los Angeles and accept the loan of Bell Towers, which you +so kindly placed at our disposal till your return with your poor little +invalid, OEnone. He has a house of his own, out West, it +seems--Arizona or somewhere _wild_-sounding. I believe it's near the +Grand Canyon--wherever _that_ is! And heaven alone knows what it's +like--the _house_, I mean, not the Canyon, which I am told is an immense +abyss miles deep, full of _blood_-red rocks or something terrific. + +"Garth insists that the unhappy child shall accompany him to this +desolate spot, which is more or less on the way to California. The +alternative he puts before her is of course the eternal (I nearly said, +'infernal'!) one, of deserting his bride with a blast of trumpets. +Neither you, nor Marise, nor I, can afford to let _this_ happen! Almost +anything would be preferable at a crisis so delicate for you with your +uncle. Especially as Marise _vows_ that, alone with her, the monster is +not so formidable. In fact, she says she can account for his conduct at +these times only by supposing that he does not like her, or is _in love +with someone else_. + +"I wonder, by the way, do you know at all if he has _any_ money? My +impression, when he so easily accepted your somewhat original offer, was +that he had none. But he made Marise several handsome presents of +jewellery, which must have cost a great deal, _if_ he paid cash! Perhaps +he used his V.C. to get them on _tick_--if such a thing is possible! +Marise refused, quite definitely, she tells me, to take these gifts from +him. To-day, she chanced to ask Garth how he had disposed of them after +her refusal. Though she put the question _most_ tactfully, even +remarking that she was _sorry_ for some little abruptness when returning +the jewel-cases (I don't know details!), the man _denied_ her right to +ask what he had done. Marise persisted, however, in that sweet little +_determined_ way she has, and Garth _at length_ flung out in reply that +he had _given the things to another person_. Imagine it! Marise's +_wedding_ presents! + +"Nothing more was to be got out of him, however. Instinct whispers to me +that the child suspects a certain young woman of having received the +jewels. (Why, such a thing is almost like being a _receiver of stolen +goods_, since surely they're the property of Marise. Not that she +_wants_ or would look at them again!) She did not _tell_ me this. It is +my own heart--the heart of a _mother_--which speaks. All she said was, +that Garth wouldn't mention the name of the receiver, and resented her +'catechising' him. He put the matter like this: If _she'd_ given _him_ +wedding presents, and he practically trampled them under foot, with +scorn, wouldn't she consider herself free to do what she liked with the +objects? Wouldn't she wish to get rid of them and never see them again? +Wouldn't her first thought be to give them away? And how would she feel +if _he_ wanted to know what she'd done with the things? + +"To the three first questions, Marise found herself obliged to answer +'_Yes_.' (She has an almost _abnormal_ sense of justice for a woman, you +know!) To the fourth, she replied in an equally self-sacrificing way, so +in the end the man triumphed. But it was this business of the wedding +presents which (as I've explained to you now) he deliberately _took +back_ (we Americans call this being an 'Indian giver'!) that has made +Marise think he's in love with someone. + +"I may have guessed the person in her mind; but, as you will feel no +interest in _that_ side of the subject, I'll not bore you by dwelling on +it at present. The interest for _you_ in Garth's being in love with a +woman who is _not_ our Marise (no matter who!) is _obvious_. If the +child is right in her conjectures, she is also right, no doubt, in +asserting that she need have no fear the man will lose his head. + +"In reading over what I have just written, I see that I may have given +you a wrong impression. It sounds as if I had resigned myself to see +Marise go off to live alone with Garth in his house by the abyss. Which +is not the case, of course. I shall be with her. That is, I shall be +most of the time--the best bargain I can drive! Except that, naturally, +Céline will _always_ be with her. And if Garth is a Demon, Céline can be +a dragon. She has learned this art from _Me_. She is absolutely +faithful, and devoted to _your_ interests. In order to make sure of her +services when needed in any possible emergency, I have more or less +confided in her, which I think was wise. + +"Now, before I write further, I will set your mind at rest as far as +_possible_. + +"Garth has used the power he holds to the uttermost, and no entreaties +on the part of author or manager have moved him. Marise is to give up +the part of Dolores in a fortnight, and Susanne Neville begins +rehearsing to-morrow! Poor Sheridan, poor Belloc! Poor _play_! Poor +_public_! My daughter is immediately after to start for the West +with her 'husband'--and maid! I wished to be of the party, but Garth +brutally inquired if 'that sort of thing was done in the smart +set'--mothers-in-law accompanying bridal pairs on their honeymoon? If I +wanted gossip, there would be a good way to get it, he said. He is +continually throwing gossip in our faces, whenever we propose anything +he doesn't like! + +"After a most exhausting (to _me_) argument, it was settled that I +should remain in New York for a few days after their departure, and that +I should then leave also, going straight on to Los Angeles. There I will +open beautiful Bell Towers, and see that all is ready for your advent, +with the invalid. Meanwhile Marise is to visit some sort of female named +Mooney, an adopted mother of Garth. She lives near a town called +Albuquerque, which if I don't forget is in New Mexico. You can perhaps +look it up on the map. Garth appears to have cause for gratitude to this +woman, who is an elderly widow. He has spent some years (I don't know +how many, and do not care!) in that State and the neighbouring one of +Arizona; and I gather from one or two words he let drop that he gave +Mrs. Mooney the house she now owns. In any case, he said he _must_ pay +her a visit, not having seen her since the time when he joined the +British forces at the beginning of the war. And if _he_ went, his wife +would have to go with him! + +"The man evidently expected that Marise would object; but in the +circumstances the idea seemed quite a _good_ one! You see _why_, of +course, dear Tony? This old woman will be an extra chaperon for our +girl, whose wild impulsiveness has brought so much worry and trouble to +us all. Garth cannot make scenes before his foster-mother, for the very +shame of it! + +"After a short visit there, he will take Marise and Céline to his own +place: and you may be sure I shall not be long in joining my child, to +give her my protection! + +"Do, my dear son-to-be, hurry on your marriage. You must cable me the +moment you get this, when you are likely to arrive, addressing me here, +where I shall still be at that time. All our difficulties will end when +you are able to hand Garth the million dollars. (I _quite_ understand it +would be imprudent to send a cheque or a letter to him. Who knows what +desperate thing he might do when he had got the money?) The one safe +thing will be a _conversation_, and the money in bonds. Then, as you +suggested, you can dictate a document for Garth to sign, compromising to +_him_ but not to you. You can also dictate terms--as you would have done +from the first, if Marise had not tried to punish you--by punishing +_herself_! But oh, let it be soon--soon! The strain is telling upon my +nerves--and no doubt the nerves of Marise, though she is singularly +reserved with me, I regret to say--one would almost think _sulky_, poor +child! + +"I can't express the pain it gives me to upset you with all these +anxieties. But I dared not keep silence, lest you should learn of this +journey West, and so on, through some garbled story in the newspapers. +You might then think the _worst_; whereas now, you are in the secret of +your dear girl's _safety_. No harm will come to her: and thank goodness +there will be no tittle-tattle to rouse Mr. Ionides's suspicions! + +"I presume you will marry your cousin by special licence, so as to hurry +things on; and I comfort myself by thinking that before many days all +will be _en train_. Perhaps in a fortnight after you reach England you +will be arranging to leave again for the benefit of the invalid's +health. California is the most wonderful place in the world for a cure. +But, of course, the poor OEnone is incurable, and is not likely to be +with you on this earth for more than a year or two at worst--I mean, at +most. + +"When you have settled with Garth, he will have no further excuse to +assert himself. I shall find a house near Bell Towers, and Marise will +come to me. The time of waiting for happiness will pass in the +consolation of warm platonic friendship and lovely surroundings. An +excuse can be found for Marise's divorce; and Garth will pass out of our +lives for ever! + +"Now I have explained everything as well as I can, and I shall add items +of interest each day until time comes for posting my letter. _Au +revoir_, dear Tony! Yours, M. S.--the initials you love!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +"SOME DAY--SOME WAY--SOMEHOW!" + + +If Zélie Marks had been a malicious girl she could, with a few words +through the telephone or on paper, have spoiled at a stroke such few +chances of happiness as remained to Garth. + +The man was completely, almost ludicrously in her power; and Zélie +didn't flatter herself that what he had done was done entirely because +of trust in her. He _did_ trust her, of course. But as the girl set +forth to carry out his wishes, she realised that he had turned to her as +much through a man's blindness as through perfect faith in her unfailing +friendship. + +Friendship! She laughed a little at the word, travelling westward in the +luxurious stateroom for which Garth had paid. What a dear fool he was! +But all men were like that. When they fell head over heels in love with +one woman, they never bothered to analyse the feelings of any other +female thing on earth! + +Yes, that was about all she was in his eyes--a female thing! He had been +in desperate need of help, and she happened to be the one creature who +could give the kind he wanted. + +Some girls would have refused, she thought. Others would have accepted, +and then--behaved like cats. Even she had longed to behave like a cat +when she talked to his "wife" through the telephone. "If Marise Sorel +dreamed of what he's asked me to do, not one of the things he hopes for +could ever by any possibility come to pass," Zélie reminded herself, as +she gazed without seeing it at the flying landscape. "Not that they ever +will come to pass anyhow. But it shan't be _my_ fault that he's +disappointed." + +Miss Marks honestly believed that she was unselfish in her service; yet +something far down in the depths of her prayed to gain a reward for it +in the far, far future. + +The one thing which seemed certain about this wild marriage was, that it +wouldn't last. Sooner or later--probably sooner!--there'd be a divorce. +Then, maybe, Jack Garth would remember what his pal Zélie Marks had done +for him. He'd turn to her for comfort as now he turned for help. +Love--real love--was sometimes born in such ways: and Zélie didn't for +an instant let herself think that Garth's love for Marise Sorel was +_real_. It was infatuation, and was bound to pass when he found out what +a vain, self-centred girl his idol was; whereas Zélie Marks had been +loyally his chum for years. + +Zélie had loved Garth long before the war, when she knew him in +Albuquerque. She was learning stenography then, after her father died, +and when there was no one for her to live with except an aunt. The aunt +was quite a good aunt, and a friend of Mrs. Mooney--Jack's "Mothereen"; +but Zélie had wanted to be independent. Jack and Mothereen had been kind +to the girl; and when Jack began building a house near his beloved Grand +Canyon, for a little while Zélie had tremblingly prayed that it was +meant for her to live in. Later, she had begun to lose hope, but not +wholly. And then the war had broken out in Europe. Almost at once Garth +had dashed over to England and offered his services, on the plea that +his father, a Yorkshire man, had never been naturalised as an American. + +Zélie couldn't rest in Albuquerque after that. She went east, and would +quietly have slipped away after Garth to Europe as a Red Cross nurse if +she hadn't been afraid he would suspect why she followed. Instead, she +stopped in New York, and got work as a stenographer with a firm of +engineers, thanks to an introduction from Jack. When America flung +herself into the war-furnace too, Zélie Marks did train as a nurse: but +in little more than a year came the Armistice, and the girl reluctantly +took up her old profession again. + +Now, she loved Major Garth, V.C., a hundred times more than she had +loved Jack Garth, the smart young inventor. Yet here she was on the way +to Arizona, where she had promised to go and get his house (that house +she had once thought might be hers!) ready to receive another woman! + +When he had come to her flat early in the morning and told her what he +wanted done to "surprise Marise," she had made him some hot coffee, and +agreed to everything. + +"Yes, Jack," she said, "I'll do it, and your wife shall never know, +unless you tell her yourself. And I advise you not to do that, because +if you drop the least hint, she'll hate the house and me, and be angry +with you. Any girl _would_! I'm not blaming her. She shall think that +your house was just waiting, in apple-pie order, her room and all: or +else--yes, _that_ would be best!--she shall think Mothereen did the +whole business. Of course, that's what you'd want Mothereen to do, and +what she'd want to do, if she were strong enough for the task. But as it +is, she shall work just enough, so that she won't have to _fib_--no hard +work to tire her out. She'll love to go to the Canyon with me--the dear +Mothereen!--and she'll have the time of her life." + +So that was Zélie Marks' secret errand. She was to travel straight +through to Kansas City, by the Santa Fé "Limited." There she was to +pause in her journey and purchase a list of things which had never been +supplied for Garth's new house, finished only a short time before the +war: beautiful silver, crystal and fine linen, and the decorations for a +room worthy of a bride like Marise. Kansas City was a big enough town to +provide these things, Garth thought; and as it was many hours nearer the +Grand Canyon than was Chicago, Zélie's purchases would reach their +destination sooner than if she shopped there. + +Garth had to leave much to Zélie's taste, but his advice, "Try to think +what _she_ would like," had hurt. Zélie was to have all the trouble and +pain, yet must strive to please Marise Sorel, not herself. And poor old +Zélie was never to get any credit for the sacrifice! + +Of course, she _had_ got something. She had got Jack's thanks in +advance. He had said, "You're a brick, Zélie! The finest girl there is. +I shall never forget what you're doing for me." And she had got the most +marvellous jewels she'd ever seen except at the opera or at Tiffany's. +But she didn't count them as possessions. She knew they had been refused +by Marise (Jack put it casually, "Stuff didn't make a hit there. I hope +it will with you!"), and Zélie had no intention of keeping Mrs. Garth's +cast-off finery. Just what she would eventually do with what Jack called +the "stuff," she hadn't made up her mind: but the girl felt confident of +an inspiration. + +She had also got money for the trip West, and back, with travel _de +luxe_. She didn't mind accepting that, as she was doing an immense +favour for Jack, which nobody else could or would do. And she didn't +mind his paying an "understudy" to look after her work at the Belmore +till she should return. But she had refused nearly half the money which +Jack had pressed upon her. She simply "wouldn't have it!" she'd +insisted. He had been forced to yield, or vex her: but he had probably +said within himself, "Anyhow, she's got the jewels!" + +How little he knew her, if he could think that!... And so, after all, +the thanks were the biggest part of her reward. + +Tears smarted under Zélie's eyelids now and then, as she thought of +these things while the train whirled her westward: how loyal she was to +her pal, and was going to be in spite of every temptation; how little +Marise deserved the worship lavished upon her; and how much more good it +would do Jack to give his love in another quarter! + +"All the same, I'll do my very, very best," the girl repeated. "I won't +tell Mothereen a single _one_ of the horrid things I think about the +bride. I'll paint her in glowing colours. I'll try and make the house a +dream of beauty, no matter how hard I work. I'll warn Mothereen not to +mention my name, though I'd _love_ to have her blurt it out! But some +day--and some way--I'll somehow get even with Marise Sorel for all she's +made me suffer. And made _Jack_ suffer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE END OF THE JOURNEY + + +Marise knew as little as possible of her own country. Her early memories +wavered between New York when things went well, and Brooklyn or even +Jersey City when the family luck was out. Her first experiences on the +stage had given her small parts in New York. Mums had refused fairly +good chances for the pretty girl, rather than let her go "on the road." +Then had come the great and bewildering success as "Dolores," which had +kept the young star playing at one theatre until mother and daughter +transplanted themselves to England. This "wedding trip" with Garth was +the first long journey that Marise had ever made in her native land. + +It was the most extraordinary thing which had ever happened, to be +travelling with Garth--except being married to him! And, after the first +twenty-four hours of "Mrs. John Garthhood," she had not felt "married" +at all, during the fortnight which followed the wedding. + +For one thing, she had been desperately busy preparing to leave the +stage "for good." There were so many people to see! And the person of +whom she had seen least was her husband. He, too, appeared to be busy +about his own affairs, and Marise was rather surprised to discover how +many men (his acquaintances were nearly all men, and men of importance) +he knew in New York. + +Every night he took her to the theatre, and returned to escort her home +in the car he had so extravagantly hired. That was in the _rôle_ of +adoring bridegroom which he had engaged himself to play! But apart from +luncheons and dinners eaten with wife and mother-in-law on show in +public places, these were the only occasions when they met and talked +together. At night, though Marise still stuck to the bargain and +occupied her room in the "bridal suite," she never knew when Garth +entered his quarters next door, or when he went out. But now, here they +were in a train, destined to be close companions for days on end. + +The girl's restless fear of the unknown in Garth's nature, which had +almost gone to sleep in New York, waked up again. Yet somehow it wasn't +as disagreeable as it ought to have been--and indeed, she had rather +missed it! There was a stifled excitement in going away with him which +interested her intensely; and she was interested in the journey itself. + +Garth had made everything very easy and comfortable for his wife, so far +as outward arrangements went. She had a stateroom (it happened by chance +to be the same in which Miss Marks had travelled a fortnight ago, but +Zélie's vows of "getting even" did not haunt the place), and close by, +Céline had a whole "section" to herself. Garth lurked in the distance, +just where, Marise didn't know. He must, of course, take his bride to +meals, and sit chatting with her for some hours each day in her +stateroom, lest people who knew their faces should wonder and whisper +about the strange honeymoon couple. But so far as Marise could tell, he +seemed inclined to keep his word with her. + +What would Mums--who had sobbed at parting--think if she knew that her +martyred Marise was quite happy and chirpy? Yet so it was! The girl was +keenly conscious of Garth's presence, but she couldn't help being as +pleased as a child with the neat arrangement of her stateroom; with the +coffee-coloured porter whose grin glittered like a diamond tiara set in +the wrong place; with the cream-tinted maid who brought a large paper +bag for her toque, and said, "My! ain't your hat just _sweet_?" and with +the wee wooden houses they passed so close she could almost have +snatched flower-pots from their window-sills, as "Alice" snatched +marmalade, falling down to Wonderland through the Rabbit Hole. That was +just at the start, for soon the train was flashing through fair green +country with little rivers, and trees like English trees. + +Marise laughed aloud at the huge advertisements which disfigured the +landscape; unpleasant-looking, giant men cut out of wood; Brobdingnag +boys munching cakes; profile cows the size of elephants, and bottles +tall as steeples. Then suddenly she checked herself. It was the first +time she had laughed with Garth! He, too, was smiling. Their eyes met. +The man seemed very human for that moment; young, too, and in spite of +his bigness, boyish. What would she have thought of him, she wondered, +if they had met in an ordinary way? + +The train stopped at very few places. Indeed, when in motion it had an +air of stopping at nothing! It was fun going to the restaurant car. Men +stared at Marise, and she saw that some of the women stared at Garth. +Did they admire him? Would _she_ have admired him if she'd seen him for +the first time as well-dressed as he was now, wearing a smart Guards' +tie, and if she had never learned to think of him as a Devil and a +Brute? + +Certainly his hair was nice. It grew well on his forehead, and brushed +straight back it would have had the effect of a bronze helmet if there +hadn't been a slight ripple to break the smoothness. + +"Monsieur Garth has received a telegram in the train," said Céline that +night as she helped "Madame" to undress. "He has no stateroom himself. I +suppose he could not get one. He is in a 'section,' no better than mine. +He is sitting there now reading the telegram. I think he has read it +several times. Perhaps it is from Madame his mother, whom we go to +visit." + +"Perhaps," echoed Marise. But somehow she felt sure it wasn't. It wasn't +about business, either! Strange that you could get telegrams in trains. +He must have told the person to wire; and the person was a woman--Zélie +Marks, most likely. All Marise's resentment against Garth came back, as +her mother would have wished for Severance's sake. + +At Chicago, where they arrived next morning, they had to stop all day +until the Santa Fé Limited left at night. Garth took his wife to "see +the sights." He was quite agreeable, in an impersonal way, and so was +she; but they did not laugh together again. They talked only of the +moment, never planned ahead; yet Marise's thoughts kept flying on to the +end of the journey, and what life would be like then. + +The morning after brought them to Kansas City, where Zélie, bound on her +secret mission, had got off to buy beautiful things for the far-away +house. But Major and Mrs. John Garth did not get off. They went on and +on, till the flat country of waving grass turned to red desert dotted +darkly with pines, and having here and there a mysterious mound like an +ancient tumulus. Instead of homely villages there were groups of adobe +houses, such as Marise vaguely pictured in Africa. Out of the hard +scarlet earth pushed grey rocks like jagged teeth of giant, buried +skulls; and at last it seemed that the train was rushing straight to the +setting sun where it would be engulfed in fire. + +Now and then when the girl glanced at Garth, who was absorbed in the +wistful ecstasy of homecoming, it occurred to her that he had changed. +His eyes were more tawny than ever they had been. Perhaps it was the red +reflection shining up into them! Now she understood better than before +why they had looked like the eyes of a lion that sees his lost and +distant desert. This was Garth's desert--_his_, and he loved it! A queer +little thrill of involuntary sympathy ran through her. She felt that it +might be in her also to love this wild rose-red and golden land, with +its dark, stunted trees, and the draped Indian figures silhouetted on +slim ponies against a crystal sky. It appealed to something in her soul +that had never yet found what it wanted. It made her feel that she was +very little in her outlook, her aspirations, but that she might some day +grow to a stature worth while. + +It was morning--late morning--when they reached Albuquerque, once +settled and named by Spanish explorers. As the train drew into the +station Marise glanced out with veiled eagerness. Yes, she _was_ eager, +but she didn't want Garth to know that. It would please him too +much--more than it was safe to please him, maybe! + +There was a surprisingly delightful hotel built in old Spanish style, +which seemed to be part of the station itself: and on the platform were +knots of Indians so picturesque that the girl nearly cried out in sheer +pleasure. + +Garth had come into the stateroom to help gather up her things. She had +been wondering for some moments at the strained frown between his +eyebrows when he should have been smiling with joy. Suddenly he spoke. + +"Marise" (he always called her Marise, and she had ceased to resent it), +"there's something I want to ask you to do. I kept putting it off, but +now the last minute has come. You know I think a lot of Mrs. Mooney, my +adopted mother, don't you?" + +"You've told me so. And it goes without saying, as you had an _idée +fixe_ that you must make her this visit at any cost," Marise replied. + +"At any cost--that's just it," he repeated. "Well, she's as +old-fashioned as you're new-fashioned. She couldn't understand a motive +for marriage except love--she'd hardly believe there was any other! I +don't want to shock or worry her if I can avoid it. Will you please help +me out in keeping her as happy about--us, as you reasonably can?" + +"Of course I don't want to hurt her," said Marise. "I hate hurting +people--as a general rule, though you mayn't believe it. What do you +want me to do--something special?" + +"Yes. Could you bring yourself to call me 'Jack' before her? She'd +notice if you always called me 'You,' as you do--as you have since I +pointed out that 'Major Garth' didn't fit the situation." + +"Certainly. That's easy enough!" Marise reassured him. "I'm not an +actress for nothing. Many a man whom I wouldn't dream of calling by his +Christian name off the stage has had to be 'dearest' and 'darling' +_on_!" + +Garth flushed darkly, she could not quite guess why. "Thank you," he +said. "We'll consider ourselves in the theatre, then, when we're at +Mothereen's, playing--don't you say?--'opposite' parts. I'll try and +make yours not too hard. I don't know whether she'll have come to the +depot to meet us or not, but--hurrah, _there_ she is!" + +His voice rang out as Marise had never yet heard it ring. Yes, she had +once--just for an instant--that first Sunday when he said, "I would sell +my soul for you!"--or some foolish words of the kind. + +Since then, she had forgotten those tones, and thought his voice hard; +but now its warmth and mellowness brought back a memory. + +The train was stopping. In front of a wonderful window full of Indian +curios stood a little woman looking up and waving a handkerchief. She +was dressed in black, with the oldest-fashioned sort of widow's bonnet. +And if you'd seen her on top of the North Pole, you would have known she +was Irish. + +Garth flung a window up, and shouted, "Mothereen!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +SECOND FIDDLE + + +The next thing that Marise knew, she was on the platform, being hugged +and kissed by the little woman in black, admired by a pair of big, +wide-apart blue eyes under black hair turning grey, smiled at by a kind, +sweet mouth whose short upper lip showed teeth white as a girl's. + +Not even Mums had ever hugged or kissed Marise like that! There had +always been just a perceptible holding at a distance lest hair or laces +should be rumpled. But there was no dread of rumpling here! Marise knew +that Mrs. Mooney wouldn't have cared if her hair had come down or her +funny old bonnet had been squashed flat. There was something oddly +delicious, almost pathetic--oh, but _very_ pathetic as things really +were between her and Garth!--in being taken to that full, motherly bosom +where the heart within beat like the wings of a glad bird. +Suddenly--perhaps because she was tired and a little nervous after her +immense journey--Marise wanted to cry in the nice woman's neck, which +smelt good, like some sort of warm, fresh fruit. But she didn't cry. She +smiled, and behaved herself well, as Mrs. Mooney turned her affectionate +attentions to "Johnny." + +"Sure, boy," she said, when Garth had come in for a full share of +caresses, "your bride's beautiful. You didn't tell me _half_, and +neither did----" + +But Mothereen broke off short, and squeezed the gloved hands of Marise, +shaking them up and down to cover an instant's confusion. She had been +solemnly warned by Zélie that the name of Marks was taboo, and now she +had nearly let it out! + +"There's an automobile waiting," she hurried on. "Not that I've got one, +or the likes of one, meself, but ye're from N'York, me dear, and I felt +it would be the right thing to have." + +"So it is, Mothereen," said Garth. "Now I'll just get the 'shuvver' to +help me with our bags and things----" + +"Not yet, boy, please," she begged excitedly. "There's a lot of folks +waitin' for the good word with ye, the minute we've had our meetin' +over. I couldn't keep 'em from comin', Johnny, honest I couldn't, try as +I might. I believe if we had a carriage instead of an auto to drive home +in, they'd take out the horses and draw ye along themselves, singin' +'Hail the Conquerin' Hero'!" + +As if her words were a signal, a crowd of men and women, mostly young, +burst out from the hotel, or from the Indian museum with its window +display of brilliant rugs, totems, turquoises, black opals, and chased +silver. "Hurrah for our Jack! Hurrah for our V.C.!" they yelled. + +Marise was taken aback and hardly knew what to do. It was so odd to hear +roars of applause which were not for _her_! + +It wasn't that she wanted the roars, or envied the embarrassed recipient +of the unexpected honours; but it _was_ strange to stand there--she, the +famous and beautiful Marise Sorel--with no one looking at or thinking +anything about her at all. + +Garth _was_ a V.C., of course, and worthy of praise for brave deeds he +must have done (she'd never heard what they were, or thought very much +about them!), yet it did seem funny, just for the first surprised +moment, that these creatures should be so wild over him without caring +an atom for her! + +"Oh, darlint, and ain't we two women proud of him!" gasped Mothereen, +squeezing the girl's arm convulsively. + +Marise glanced down at the plump, black-clad form quivering with emotion +at the sight of Garth being shaken hands with and pounded on the back. +"Yes, we are," she echoed kindly, for she would not have pained the dear +woman for anything on earth. + +"I shall have my work cut out for me, while I'm in her house, if she +expects me to be chorus for her adopted son," the transported favourite +told herself. "But she is a darling, and I'll do my best for the few +days I'm here, at--well, at _almost_ any price." + +When Garth's old friends had thrown themselves upon him like a tidal +wave, the reflex action came, and they were willing to meet and be nice +to his wife. Male and female, they saw that she was tremendously pretty +and smart. Many knew who she was, and had heard of her success, even +though they had never seen her on the stage. But what was a star of the +theatre, compared with a hero of the war? Garth was It. Marise was only +It's second fiddle. + +"Isn't he great?--fine?--wonderful?" were the adjectives flung at her +head by gushing girls. "I suppose he lets you wear his V.C.?" a man +pleasantly condescended. Everyone was sure, as Mothereen had been sure, +that she must be "very proud" of the splendid husband she'd been lucky +enough to catch. + +Marise smiled as she pictured what Mums' expression would have been +among these adorers of the Fiend, the Brute, beings from another world, +for whom the celebrated Miss Sorel was nobody. Really, the scene on this +platform was like a village green in a comic opera, with all the minor +characters dancing round the tenor! + +At last Garth--happy yet ill at ease and half ashamed--contrived to +rescue his mother and wife. They got to the motor-car waiting outside +the station; but there they collided with a new procession, belated yet +enthusiastic. It was, "Garth forever!" again: more shouts of joy, more +slaps, more introductions to the harmless, necessary bride. + +Even when the three had ambushed themselves in the car, boys hung on +behind, singing, "For he's a jolly good fellow!" and girls threw flowers +in at the windows. + +"This is the happiest hour of my life since I first met up with ye, +Johnny dear," choked Mothereen, wiping her smiling eyes. "And I'm sure +it's the same for you, isn't it, my child?" + +"Oh yes--ye-es!" responded Marise. + +Garth laughed. + +The town of Albuquerque was very Spanish-looking. Indeed, it would have +been strange if it were not so, since the Spanish had built much of it +in the Great Days of their prime, hundreds of years ago. It was on the +outskirts of the place that Mrs. Mooney lived, in a house--as she +explained to Marise--"architected for her by Johnny himself." + +"He and I lived here together after he brought me back to me +dearly-loved west, from N'York," she went on; "as happy as turtle-doves +till the war broke on us. That house at the Canyon where he's takin' +you--the later the better, because I want to keep ye here as long as I +can!--was never for _me_. He thought he'd like to go and brood over his +work in it, all alone, once or twice a year. He felt as if that Grand +Canyon would be a kind of inspiration. I doubt if it ever popped into +his head in those times that he'd be takin' a pretty young wife like a +princess from a fairy tale there some day. Not that aught except a +fairy-tale princess would be good enough for him." + +Marise did not answer. What was there to say? But they had arrived at +Mothereen's house. + +It, too, was Spanish, in a modern, miniature way, and Mothereen +explained it to Marise. "Johnny wanted to build me something bigger and +more statuesque like," she said. "But I wouldn't let him. I love a +little house. I'm at _home_ in it. I have no grand ways. I hope it's the +same with you, me dear! Though for sure it will be, on yer honeymoon, +with the best boy in the wurruld, just back safe from the terrible war! +Zé--I mean _he_--did speak of a 'suite' to put the two of ye up in, but +I warrant ye won't be the one to say yer quarters are too small!... Come +in, will ye? And welcome ye both are as the sunshine after rain!" + +Marise obeyed the arm round her waist, but a presentiment of trouble was +upon the girl. She foresaw a dilemma. And it had two long horns. She was +between them! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +MOTHEREEN + + +Mothereen led them over the house, which was built in bungalow style, +all on one floor, saying to Garth, "Do you remember this? Do you +remember that?" and pointing out to Marise details upon which she could +hang some anecdote of "Johnny." + +"But I've saved the best for the last," she announced. "Now I'm going to +take ye to your '_suite_,' as Zé--as it's fashionable to call it. Ye +know, Johnny, the spare bedroom with the bath openin' out? Well, I've +added onto it the little sewin'-room, done up the best I could in a +hurry. And if that doesn't make a 'suite,' what _does_? There's no door +from one room into the other, that's the trouble! I'd a' had one cut if +there'd been time, but there wasn't. Still, it's the next room, and the +two of ye will have the whole use of it, so I hope the dear gurrl will +excuse the deficiencies." + +"I'm sure there won't be any deficiencies!" exclaimed Marise graciously. +Garth was right to love his "Mothereen"! She was certainly an adorable +woman, and too delicious when she rolled out a long word. The girl was +pleased to hear that there was no door between her room and Garth's. Not +that he was likely to annoy her. But--who could tell if he would not be +different here in his own home, where everyone made a hero of him, from +what he had seemed in _her_ New York? It was just as well that she was +to be on the safe side. + +"What a pretty room!" she cried out, as, with a proud housewifely look, +Mothereen flung open a door. "Why, it's lovely! Is this mine?" + +"Of course it's yours, darlin'--yours and Johnny's," said Mothereen, +beaming with pleasure at such praise. "Come and look out of the window, +ducky. John knows what's there, but 'twill be a surprise for you." + +Still clasped by the plump arm, Marise crossed the polished floor, which +was spread with beautiful Indian rugs. The walls were white, and hung +with a few good pictures of desert scenery and strange Indian mesas. The +furniture was simple, but interesting: made of eucalyptus wood, pink as +faded rose-leaves against its white background; and everywhere were +bowls of curious Egyptian-looking Indian pottery, filled with roses. The +one immense window took up nearly all one end of the room, and opened +Spanish fashion upon a garden-court with a fountain, a marble bench, and +a number of small orange trees grouped together to shade the seat. + +"'Twas Johnny's idea," Mothereen explained, when Marise had complimented +the court. "The next room looks on it, too. And now ye'd both better +come and see what I've done with that same!" + +She led the way out again, and opened the door of an adjoining room. "I +do hope ye'll like it too!" she said. "It's yer own little sittin'-room, +and you two turtle-doves can have yer breakfast here by yerselves if ye +like." + +With all her goodwill towards "Mothereen," Marise could not repress a +slight gasp, or a stiffening of the supple young figure belted by the +kind woman's arm; for her first glimpse of the room gave her an electric +shock. The room _was_ a "sittin'-room," and nothing else. + +"Is anything wrong, darlin'?" anxiously asked Mothereen. + +Marise hesitated. Involuntarily she glanced over her shoulder at Garth, +who was close behind. She met his eyes, which implored hers. + +"Oh no, indeed!" the girl protested. "It's--it's charming. I was +thinking of something else for an instant." + +"Ye're _sure_ everything's all right?" Mothereen persisted, her pretty +brows puckered. + +"Quite sure. Thank you _so_ much!" + +"Nothing ye'd like to have me change?" + +"Nothing at all," Marise consoled her, in a strained tone. + +"Well then, I'm glad, and I'll leave ye to yerselves for a while. Come +out to me when ye feel like it and not before--one or both. And ye'll be +welcome as the flowers in May." + +She kissed Marise and snuggled her cheek, rosy and fresh as an apple, +against the arm of her adopted son. Then she was gone with a parting +smile, and Garth shut the door. + +"That was mighty fine behaviour of yours, and I thank you with all my +heart," he said to Marise. + +She had dropped into a chair, tremulous about the knees. "You needn't +thank me," she answered. "What I did was for _her_." + +"I know. That's why I thank you," said Garth. "I think a lot more about +Mothereen's feelings than I do my own. Mine are case-hardened--hers +aren't, and never could be. You see, she's fond of me." + +"I do see! So is everybody else--here, it seems." + +"They're warm-hearted folks out in the West. They love to make a noise. +I hope you weren't disgusted." + +"No, I liked them," said Marise. "They seemed so sincere. And Mrs. +Mooney is the dearest little woman. I'd have my tongue cut +out--almost!--rather than she should be sad. But now the question is, +what's to be done? I tried to help you. You must help me." + +"I will," Garth assured her. "It's going to be all right." + +"But how--without hurting her?" Marise looked round the room. "You can't +sleep on that little sofa." + +"I can sleep on the floor rolled up in a blanket. That would have seemed +a soft billet in France." + +"You'd be wretchedly uncomfortable. And how would you bathe?" + +"I guess you don't need to worry yourself about that detail. I'll manage +the business in one way or other." + +"That sounds vague! What's become of the room which used to be yours in +this house, before you went to the war?" + +"Your bedroom next door is the one. The only spare room we had in those +days was this, where we're sitting now. We never had any people come to +stay, though, so Mothereen turned it into a sewing-room." + +"I see! And you can't slip out to an hotel or anywhere, because every +human being in town knows you." + +"No, I can't slip out. But--well, we _are_ married!" + +Marise started, and stared. Her eyes opened wide. She looked ready to +spring up and run away. + +"All I was going to say is this," Garth went on. "There's a big screen +or two in your room, I noticed. Perhaps, as you're kind enough not to +want me to go unwashed, you'd stretch a point, and let me walk through +to the bath with a couple of screens in position. We needn't stay more +than two days and nights, the way things have turned out. Mothereen will +be disappointed, but her feelings won't be hurt because I shall take +steps to get a wire from a friend of mine at the Grand Canyon. The +friend will tell me that I'm needed at once on a matter of importance. +That'll do the trick. And Mothereen can make up for lost time by +visiting me--us, at Vision House." + +"Vision House!" + +"Yes, I named it that. You wouldn't be interested in the reason why." + +Marise felt that she would be interested, but didn't care to say so. + +"You wouldn't mind her coming to the Canyon?" he asked. + +"Of course not! I should be delighted. That is, if I were there." + +"You would be there." + +"I mightn't. You see--things will change. Mums will come, and--and--I +shall go away--with her. You know what will happen." + +"Who knows anything about the future? But let it take care of itself. +There's plenty to think of in the present, isn't there?" + +"Too much!" + +"Not for me. Can you bring yourself to agree to that plan I proposed? +The screen----" + +"Oh, I suppose it's the only thing to do! I've played bedroom scenes on +the stage, and this----" + +"Very well. That's settled, then." + +"Ye-es. Except--about your belongings. I suppose Mrs. Mooney is sure to +run in now and then to see how--we--are getting on." + +"I'm afraid she will. Unless we tell her to stay out." + +"We won't do that! I suppose your toilet things will have to be in _my_ +room--on that tallboy with the mirror which Mrs. Mooney evidently meant +for them." + +"If you can bear the contamination!" + +Marise glanced at him. But he did not speak the words bitterly. He was +faintly smiling, though it was not precisely a gay smile. She wanted to +smile back, but feared to begin again with "smiling terms," so she +replied gravely that it could be quite well arranged. "I'll +explain--enough--to Céline, and she'll unpack for you," the girl +suggested. + +"That's a kind thought!" said Garth. And then, as if satisfied with the +way in which troublesome matters had shaped themselves, he got up. "I +expect you'd like to have your maid in now, to help you," he suggested. +"You can ring, and I'll go and have a chin with Mothereen." + +Céline was lodged at a distance, but there was a bell communicating with +her quarters. She came, in an excited mood. + +"But it is a house of charm, Madame!" she exclaimed. (It had ceased to +seem strange, now, being "Madamed" by Céline.) "Monsieur Garth--the two +domestics who have for him an adoration, say he built it. And he has +another place larger and more beautiful, where we go. It is, then, that +Monsieur is rich." + +Marise did not answer. But she would have given something to do so, out +of her own knowledge. Garth and all his circumstances, and surroundings, +were becoming actually mysterious to her. She was puzzled at every turn. + +"You mustn't gossip with the servants here, Céline," she said. + +"But no, naturally not, Madame!" protested the maid. "I will listen to +all they say, and speak nothing in return. So Madame wishes the effects +of Monsieur placed in this room? _Parfaitement!_ It shall be done." + +Luncheon was outwardly a happy meal. Mothereen so radiated joy in her +adored one's return that Marise was infected with her gaiety of spirit. +After all, life was only one adventure after another, and this was an +adventure like the rest. Well, not exactly _like_ the rest! But at +least, it was not dull! + +All the afternoon there were callers, and Mothereen broke it to the +bride and bridegroom that, without being disagreeable, she could not +avoid inviting a "few folks to dinner, and some to drop in later." "The +dinner ones are our grand people," she explained to Marise, "the Mayor +and his wife, and a son who is a Colonel. He has married a French wife. +She is very stylish, and she'll have on her best clothes to-night. They +say she's got grand jewels. But sure, they won't hold a candle to +yours." + +"I haven't brought many with me, I'm sorry to say," replied Marise. + +Mothereen's face fell for an instant, then brightened. "Oh, I clean +forgot," she exclaimed. "The beautiful things I have waitin' fur ye. +They'll be on yer dressin'-table to-night. Now, not a wurrud, darlin'! +Ask me no questions, I'll tell ye no lies. This is a _secret_." + +Intrigued, Marise became impatient to go to her room, but could not +escape there till it was time to dress. Céline was already on the spot, +preparing her mistress's dress for the evening: bridal white frock, +scintillating with crystal; little slippers, silk stockings, a petticoat +of rose-embroidered chiffon and lace. + +But Marise did not cast a glance at these things. She walked straight to +the dressing-table, and couldn't help giving a little squeak. For there +lay the missing jewel-cases--those she had thrown into the corridor at +the Plaza Hotel on her wedding night--and had never seen since. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE WHITE DOVE + + +Marise and Garth neatly arranged their life according to stateroom +etiquette on shipboard. When one was in the bedroom the other was in the +sitting-room next door. They were like the figures of the man and woman +who come out and go in at the adjacent doors of a barometer; and the +plan, though inconvenient, was not unworkable. When the girl had opened +the jewel-cases and gazed once more at the glories she had thought lost +forever to her repentant eyes, she couldn't resist tapping on the wall +with a gold-backed hair-brush--one Garth had given her. Indeed, she did +not stop to think better of the impulse. + +Her heart--or some distantly related muscles round the organ--had +suddenly warmed towards the man. This thaw was doubtless produced by +remorse. For she had believed, on no evidence save instinct, that he had +given these lovely things--_her_ wedding presents, although +discarded!--to Zélie Marks. Instead, he must have expressed them to Mrs. +Mooney in order that she--Marise--should have a chance to change her +mind. Foxy of him, because it would be difficult to refuse the gifts +again, coming as they did from the innocent hands of Mothereen! However, +she would see. She'd have a talk with Garth, and then decide. + +Garth was in the sitting-room, pretending to himself that he was +interested in the evening paper. He jumped up at the sound of a tap on +the wall, hardly believing his own ears. But a knock at Marise's door +brought a "Come in!" which did not sound grudging. + +Marise in a so-called _robe de chambre_ was more dressed than in +"Dolores's" third act ball-gown at the theatre, yet there was such a +bizarre touch of intimacy in being admitted to this bedroom scene on the +stage of life that numerous volts of electricity seemed to shoot through +Garth's nerves. His face was composed, however, even stolid. "You wanted +me?" he asked. + +Marise didn't directly answer that question. She pointed to the +jewel-cases. "Mrs.--Mooney put these here," she said. "I--wanted to tell +you I'm glad they weren't stolen or--anything." + +Her words gave him time to swallow his surprise, which was quite as +great as her own had been at sight of the jewels. But he guessed at once +what had happened. What a trump Zélie was! A grand girl! She'd make a +fine wife for someone. He'd been a clumsy ass to force these things upon +her in a moment of fury against Marise; and Zélie had done exactly +right. He was immensely grateful. Some day he must find a way to repay +her for silently handing him a big chance--a chance that might mean a +lot, which but for her thought, her generosity, he would have missed. + +Well, it was up to him not to miss it now! He'd been an idiot over these +baubles once. He mustn't "fall down" over them again; and to let Marise +guess how he'd bungled--how a girl she didn't appreciate yet had +straightened matters out--would be to prove himself a priceless ass. + +"Thank you for saying that," he quietly replied. + +"I did tell you once before that I was sorry I'd thrown the jewel-cases +on the floor. It was _horrid_ of me. I felt afterwards I'd been most +ill-bred," vouchsafed Marise. + +"No. More like a bad-tempered child," said Garth. + +"You weren't nice to me when I tried to apologise," the girl went on. + +"Were you trying to apologise? Sorry! I didn't understand." + +"What did you think I was trying to do?" + +"Did you ever see a small boy take a stick, and stir up some beast in +its cage at a Zoo? If you did, you'll know." + +Marise laughed. "What sort of a beast?" + +"Any sort with a sore head." + +"Well--to change the subject," she said rather hastily, "let's talk not +about beasts, but about jewels. I've apologised. And now officially I +put these valuable things into your hands." + +"I'd rather leave them in yours," said Garth. + +"But--I told you before I really couldn't keep them--in the +circumstances." + +"Haven't the circumstances changed--just a little?" + +"I--don't quite see how you mean." + +"Don't you? In that case, I suppose they haven't. Won't _you_ change, +then--enough to keep the things, as I've no use for them?" + +"I'm afraid I can't. You may have a use for them some day, you know." + +"What use? I don't seem to see Mothereen in pearls and laurel wreaths." + +The picture called up made them both smile. "No, but you won't--won't be +bound to me for ever," Marise explained, her cheeks growing pink. +"There'll be some other girl; a girl that perhaps you haven't even met, +yet----" + +"Never on God's earth will there be a girl for me, that I haven't met." + +Remembrance of a girl he _had_ met darted through the mind of Marise. +Zélie Marks! Was the same thought in his mind? she wondered. + +"Who can tell about these things?" she murmured vaguely. "Anyhow, you +must please take charge of your jewels now." + +"But you said this morning you wouldn't like to hurt Mothereen's +feelings." + +"What have her feelings to do with the jewels?" + +"Just this. She's been keeping them for the great day--the day of our +coming. She knows they were my wedding present to you----" + +"Then she knows that you were shockingly extravagant." + +"Perhaps she doesn't think so. She's better acquainted with my +circumstances than you are. Anyhow, she's looking forward to seeing you +all dolled up in the things to-night, and it'll be a blow for her if +you're not. She won't say a word to you. Only she's sure to ask me----" + +"Oh, all right! I'll wear the lot!" snapped Marise. She spoke rather +crossly, but Garth was not dashed. He was, indeed, happier than he had +been since his wedding day. His dummy hand might have scored a success +once or twice before during the strange fortnight they had passed +together, yet a world apart. He wasn't certain. But he was certain of +this: it was a small triumph. He had a "hunch" that, when the girl had +once seen herself in the pearls, the pendant, and the wreath of emerald +laurel leaves, she wouldn't be anxious to give them up. + +"That's very good of you," he thanked her formally. "I'm obliged to you +for Mothereen's sake as well as--but no matter for the rest. It's +nothing to you, of course." + +As he spoke, Garth walked to the door without waiting for a hint from +Marise. "You'll want to go on dressing," he said, "so as to leave the +place clear for me." Then, without another word, he went out and shut +the door. + +Marise stared at herself in the mirror. "You might have two noses--or +none--for all the notice he took of your looks," she told her +reflection. + +History repeated itself that evening. The guests were all +hero-worshippers, as the crowd had been at the station. The bride was +admired. No one could help admiring her. Face, figure, hair, clothes, +and jewels were all wonderful. But even those who seemed to admire her +most blatantly betrayed their opinion that she was a lucky girl to have +got Jack Garth--she, only an actress! + +Some of the people had come a long distance to welcome home the V.C. +from the great war, and among these were a young couple who interested +Marise, because they appeared so frankly in love with each other. What +their last name was, she didn't learn. Mothereen must have thought that +she had heard of them from Garth. "Here are Billy and Cath," she +introduced them, adding, "This is our dear Marise." + +Billy was in the Army, and had fought in France when America "went in." +He was stationed somewhere--Marise didn't know where--and Cath had been +a "war bride." She looked delicate, though pretty; and another girl +whispered to Marise, "Cath was never strong, but when Billy was reported +missing a year ago she went right down, and the doctors thought she'd +got T.B. My, you don't know what _T.B._ means? Everyone out here knows +only too well, because the climate in these parts and Arizona is so +good, lots of 'em come to get cured. Consumption, of course. But joy's +the best medicine in the world. You can realise how it would be with you +if it had been your gorgeous Jack! I guess Cath will get well now, +though she isn't quite right yet--and I don't suppose Billy'd have let +her take such a trip for anyone but Jack Garth." + +They had motored from "home," wherever that was, in what they called a +"tin Lizzie," and Billy had driven the car himself. When everyone else +was gone, Cath was still in the house, for there was trouble with +"Lizzie," and Garth had gone out with his friend to see what it was. + +Cath looked very tired, but her eyes were bright, and a pink flush high +on her rather thin cheeks melted into shadows under thick dark lashes. +She talked excitedly to Marise about "Jack and Bill," telling the +stranger anecdotes which would have thrilled a loving bride, but now and +then she glanced wistfully at the door. + +At last the two men came back, and the girl half sprang up. "I was +getting worried!" she cried. "Is Lizzie going to behave herself?" + +"That's what I wish I was sure of," said Billy. "The little brute is in +the sulks, and not even Jack can get at the reason, so it must be pretty +deep-seated. Still, she may bump us home if I coax her along." + +"Good gracious, boy!" exclaimed Mothereen. "That'll never do for Cath! +Why, you might be stuck for hours. You and she must stay here and we'll +lend you what you need." + +"Oh, thank you, darling!" Cath answered. "That would be wonderful. I +_am_ tired. But are you sure you've room to squeeze us in, now you've +got Jack and his wife with you?" + +Mothereen started. "My saints!" she gasped. "I'd forgotten we'd made a +suite for them. But that doesn't matter a bit. There'll _be_ room. And +you'll stop." + +Billy and Cath protested. They wouldn't upset the house for worlds. It +wasn't so late but Bill could go into the town and knock up the folks at +a hotel. + +"Nothing of the sort," Mothereen scolded. "We'll have a cot bed put into +my room--mine's too narrow for two; and sure I am that Marise won't mind +my having a bunk fixed up for the night in her sitting-room." + +Fortunately Cath and Bill were both talking too fast at the same time to +notice the expression of the bride's face, and Mothereen was looking at +them. With all her wish not to hurt Mothereen, the line had to be drawn +somewhere. Marise, trying to control her face, glanced at Garth. Her +eyes said, "This is up to you. You've got to save me. Think of +something, quick!" + +"Of course, nobody'll hear of your turning out, Mothereen!" Garth flung +himself into the breach. "I expect Marise will invite Cath in to chum +with her. Then Bill and I will shift for ourselves. We----" + +But an outcry from Cath, Bill, and Mothereen cut his words in two. None +of them would hear of such a thing. Part a honeymoon pair like that? +Never! It would be a crime. + +"Why shouldn't Cath and I have that sitting-room if Mrs. Garth can spare +it?" asked Bill. + +"We-ell," Mothereen temporised, and glanced with a smile at Marise. +"What do you say, darling?" + +It was a terrific moment for the girl. It was worse than not knowing +your part on the first night of a new play. Again her eyes turned to +Garth. But this time he was caught unprepared. He missed his cue, and +looked agonised. Marise believed that he was thinking of Mothereen more +than of her. Still, she was sorry for the man. She just couldn't "let +him down" before his adored one and his friends. Besides, she had never +quite forgotten the ring of his voice on the night after the wedding +when he had bidden her trust him. In his strange way--such as it was--he +had never failed her since. No, she _wouldn't_ let him down! + +"What do I say?" she answered Mothereen. "I say 'Yes,' of course. +I'm--delighted! Can't we all help to make up their beds, and bring in +washstands and things?" + +They all did help. And everyone lent Cath and Bill something--"for +luck." Garth contributed pyjamas for his friend. Mothereen kept a supply +of new toothbrushes of all sizes and qualities. Cath squeaked with joy +over the "nighty" Marise offered. + +Then at last came the moment for bidding each other "sleep well!--sweet +dreams!" The door of Cath and Bill's bedroom shut. Mothereen followed +Marise into her quarters adjoining, kissed and complimented her, and +called Garth, who was looking at a picture of himself in his first +British uniform, enlarged to enormous size in crayon, framed in gilt and +hung up in the hall. + +"Marise has sent her maid to bed," Mothereen explained. "She was tired +after the journey--a train headache. I thought I could undo this lovely +wreath for her, but I can't. Will you try?" + +Garth tried. He'd never touched the girl's hair before. Its ripples were +so soft--so soft! He had not known that a woman's hair could feel so +divine as that. For an instant he was afraid that a certain unsteadiness +of his fingers would make him awkward. But he almost prayed that it +might not, and the prayer--if it was a prayer--had its answer. He +happened to be particularly deft. The emerald laurel wreath yielded its +secret to him, and without disturbing one of those wonderful golden +waves, he laid the glittering thing on the table. + +"Well, I'll say good night, then, me dear ones," said Mothereen. "It's +made me as happy as a bird, sure it has, to see your happiness. The Lord +is good to us all, He who brought Johnny back, safe and sound, out o' +the Furnace. His blessin' on ye both this night!" + +Then she was gone. + +Her words had brought a sense of peace into the room, as if a white dove +had flown in. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE VIGIL LIGHT + + +"I'll go and rouse up one of the hotels," said Garth. + +"But you're in evening dress," Marise reminded him. "You can't come back +like that in the morning. Besides, what would the people think?" + +"Hang the people!" Garth replied. + +"One can't--unfortunately." + +"Well, here's a better plan. I'll sit outside in the garden court. I can +come in--if you'll let me--before there's any chance of being seen." + +Marise shivered. "It would be cold!" + +"Pooh!" said Garth. "It's never really cold here. Don't forget it wasn't +exactly a picnic, those years in France. I don't think I shall ever mind +cold again." + +"Anyhow, I should feel a brute sleeping calmly here, with you sitting on +a hard bench out of doors. I may not be a very nice person," Marise +criticised herself, "but I'm not a thorough-paced _pig_. We must think +of some other possible arrangement." + +"There's only one other possible arrangement. And you'd not consider +that possible." + +"What is it?" rather breathlessly. + +"For you to make yourself comfortable behind a barricade of those two +useful screens in your bedroom, while I sit up in an armchair--or spread +myself out on this sofa." + +"I _do_ consider that possible," said Marise, "now I know what kind of a +man you are. That's what we'll do! I'll slip on a dressing-gown and curl +up on top of the bed under an eiderdown. And early in the morning the +one that's awake will call the other. It's quite simple--and you see I'm +not so disagreeable as you thought." + +"Have I ever given you cause to believe I thought you disagreeable?" + +"Dear me, yes! Whole heaps of times! Not that it matters." + +"I suppose it wouldn't matter to you. But it does matter to me, 'what +kind of a man' you 'now know' me to be. Have you been studying me? I +hadn't noticed it. But if you have, I'd be interested to hear what +conclusions you've come to. Do you mind telling me?" + +"Oh, my conclusions mostly concern your state of mind regarding _me_!" +said Marise. + +"What, according to you, is it?" + +"Dislike," she replied promptly. + +"That's a strong word!" Garth blurted out. They were standing in the +middle of the room, eyeing each other as might a pair of duellists +obliged to fight over some technical dispute. "Have I been so brutal to +you as all that?" + +"You haven't been brutal lately. You were--_dreadfully_--at first." + +"H'm! You weren't exactly angelic to me." + +"There's nothing very angelic in the--in the affair." + +"What, precisely, do you mean by 'the affair'?" + +"The--er--bargain." + +"I thought I'd convinced you that the 'bargain' had collapsed." + +"Well, our--marriage, then, if you like that better. I've wondered every +minute what you did marry me for, if it wasn't money. And sometimes I +think it couldn't have been, because you seem to have plenty of your +own. Still----" + +"Some men with plenty could do with more. Is that what you'd say?" + +"I'm not sure what I'd say--about you." + +"I suppose you think that a million dollars would always be worth +having. I'm sure your mother would think that." + +"The question is, not what _we'd_ think, but what you thought--when you +married me." + +Garth looked at her for a moment in silence, as if weighing his answer, +wondering whether to stick to his fixed plan of remoteness, or risk +"giving himself away." + +"Do you remember any of the things I said to you the first day we met?" +he asked at last. + +"Yes, I remember you thought--then--you lo--you admired me a good deal. +But you were a different man that day from what you were afterwards." + +"You're right! I was. A different man. The word you broke off just now +was the one word for what I felt. Only it didn't express half. I loved +you with all there was of me. I adored and worshipped you. But--I don't +believe you've ever been in love yourself except on the surface, or I'd +ask you how much you think love can stand, and live?" + +Marise felt the blood pour up to her cheeks and tingle in the tips of +her ears. So it was true that he _didn't_ love her now! The thought hurt +her vanity. She hated to believe that a man who'd loved her once could +_un_love her in a few days or weeks. But it annoyed her very much to +flush. She wished to look entirely unmoved. Instead, she wanted to cry. + +"Please do tell me once for all _why_ you married me if it wasn't either +for love or money!" she said crossly, with a quiver in her voice. + +"When one makes a bold move on the chessboard--the chessboard of +life--there are often several motives," Garth replied. "Sometimes it's +to save the queen from being taken by an enemy piece. Perhaps that was +my principal motive, who can tell?--I don't know just what piece to +compare with Severance, though with a _card_ it would be easy. He's not +a knight. Nor yet a bishop. We might call him a castle. I hear he's got +one--which needs a bit of doing up before it would suit a queen." + +"You married me only to keep Tony Severance from getting me?" + +"That might have had something to do with it." + +"Not for the million?" + +"I leave you to guess that, from what you say you know of me." + +"And not because you wanted me yourself?" + +"I don't get much good from having you, do I?" + +"Then it was like the dog in the manger." + +Garth shrugged his shoulders. "Let it go at that for to-night, anyhow. +We must talk more softly if we don't wish to keep Bill and Cath awake in +the next room." + +This warning was a dash of cold water! + +"We won't talk at all," half whispered Marise. "If you'll arrange the +screens for me, I'll rest on the bed." + +There were two large, four-leaved screens in the room, one in a corner +behind a sofa, keeping off a window draught, one in front of the door. +Placed as Garth placed them, they formed a room within a room, hiding +the bed from view. Marise stepped behind this "barricade," as Garth had +called it, contrived with great difficulty to unfasten a complicated +family of tiny hooks, wriggled out of her sparkling dress and into a +_robe de chambre_, turned off the light of an electric candelabrum, +turned on that of a green-shaded bedside lamp, and lay down under a silk +quilt. + +From Garth's part of the room she heard no sound, except when several +electric lights were switched off, and Marise imagined him uncomfortably +folded up on the sofa which was far too small for what she called "an +out-size" of man. + +It was dark in the room save for her bedside lamp, the shade of which +drank most of the light. So dim was it, so still was it, that after a +while Marise grew drowsy. + +She hadn't meant to sleep at all, but she realised that Nature was too +strong for her. Besides, what did it matter? Garth was probably asleep +too--and there were hours before dawn. + +The girl ceased to resist the soft pressure as of fingers on her +eyelids. They drooped, closed, and--she slept. By and by she dreamed. +She dreamed most vividly of Zélie Marks, as she had dreamed once or +twice before. + +She--Marise--was in this house of Mothereen's; in this very room, though +Garth was not with her. He existed, but he had gone out--or away. Marise +had taken off the jewels he had given her, and was laying them on a +table. They were beautiful! It was a pity not to keep them for her own! +Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and without waiting for +permission Zélie Marks burst in. + +"I've come for the jewels," she announced, in a hateful voice, looking +at Marise with angry, wicked eyes. + +"They're not yours, and you're not to have them," said Marise in the +dream. She spoke with courage; but suddenly she was afraid of Zélie. She +knew that the girl meant to do her harm. Some dreadful thing was going +to happen. But her voice was gone. She could not cry out. She couldn't +even speak. It was impossible to move. She felt like a bird fascinated +by a snake. The dream had become a nightmare. + +Zélie saw her helplessness. The big black eyes became more and more +evil. The girl advanced slowly, yet with set purpose. Without removing +her stare from Marise's face, she picked up the rope of pearls. + +"As you won't give these to me, though Jack wants me to have everything +of his, I'm going to make you swallow them," she said in a low voice, +cold as the tinkle of ice. + +Marise strove with all her might to cry out, "No--no!" but could not. +She tried to turn and dart away before Zélie could touch her, but she +was immovable as the pillar of salt that had been Lot's wife. + +Zélie took a handful of pearls and began stuffing them into Marise's +mouth. It was suffocation! Marise wrenched herself free of the frozen +spell and uttered a shriek. + +It waked her; and at the same time she was conscious of another sound--a +sound which brought back to her brain a whirling vision of things as +they really were. + +She remembered the screens, and why they were there. + +Garth had bounded up from some resting-place and had knocked over a +chair. He must think, either that she was _in extremis_, or else that +she had cried out as an excuse to bring him to her. She saw one of the +two screens sway, as if Garth had struck against it inadvertently. Then, +hastily she closed her eyes. He must be made to realise that she had +truly screamed in her sleep, and that there was no horrid coquettish +trick. + +Marise lay quite still, so that she hardly breathed; and Garth's steps +made scarce a sound; yet she knew that he had come round the screens and +was looking at her. + +After the things he had said, she was wild to know _what that look was +like_. If she could see his face at that moment, when she'd just given +him a fright, she would know without any possible doubt whether he'd +spoken the plain truth in hinting (he hadn't exactly _said_!) that he +didn't love her because she had tried him too far. But she couldn't see +his face without opening her eyes; and if she opened her eyes he'd know +she was awake. He'd suspect that she had screamed on purpose. + +The girl tried to breathe with long, gentle sighs, hardly moving her +breast, as she did when she played the part of a sleeper on the stage. +It was easy enough _there_; but she couldn't be a good actress after +all, because she was unable to control her breath now. Her heart was +beating fast, and her bosom rose and fell in jerks. + +A long time seemed to pass. Was Garth standing there gazing down at her +still, or had he tiptoed away? Marise simply _had_ to know! Surely she +could just peep from under those celebrated eyelashes of hers for half a +second, without his catching her in the act, if he were there? + +The lashes flickered, and were still again. But Marise had seen. Garth +_was_ there. He was looking down at her. Yet all her subtleties had been +vain. She couldn't read his face. It was as inscrutable as that of the +Sphinx, which she knew only from photographs. Presently she heard a +slight, almost indefinable sound, and peeping again, saw Garth in the +act of disappearing behind a leaf of the taller screen. Had he caught +that tell-tale flicker, or not? + +Garth went back to his darkened corner of the room, but his brain felt +as it had been brilliantly lit up, with a hundred electric candles +suddenly turned on in it. They dazzled him. But he composed himself +outwardly and lay down again on the crampingly short sofa. + +He had taken off collar, tie, coat and waistcoat, slipping on instead a +futurist dressing-gown which a haughty salesman in a smart shop had +forced upon him as "_the_ thing." Zélie would probably have approved it. +In any case, it would have graced a Russian ballet. + +Minutes, hours perhaps, passed before he felt even somnolent. But the +ring of light on the ceiling above Marise's concealed lamp, resembling a +faint, round moon in a twilight sky, hypnotised him. At last sleep +caught him like a wrestler, and downed him for a moment. In a flash came +a dream. He thought that Marise had cried out again. Then he waked, in +another flash, and knew that it was not true. Vividly he saw her face, +as it had been in that last glimpse he had stolen; sweet as a rose; lips +apart, long lashes shadowing the cheeks; then--a flicker; and he saw the +bosom that had been shaken all through the silent scene with heart-beats +too quick for those of a sleeper. + +With this photograph upon his retina, he deliberately rolled off the +sofa, and fell with a bump on the floor. + +Crash! went a screen. + +Marise was beside him. + +"Are you _dead_?" she gasped. + +"No. Only asleep," he answered with a yawn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE ALBUM + + +The next day Garth received a telegram urging him to come at once to the +Grand Canyon. He was needed because of some work at Vision House which +had been stopped for his decision. + +Marise believed that he had had the message sent to himself, and was +grateful, for his departure relieved the situation. Later, she thought +differently; but at the time she was pleased with the man. She even gave +him a little appreciative squeeze of the hand when they said good-bye. + +Garth was to be gone two days. He would then return, travelling at +night, and after a few hours with Mothereen would take his wife and her +maid away. Considering the circumstances, this was as good an +arrangement as could have been hoped for by Marise. His absence, +however, did leave the house very dull! Whether one liked Jack Garth or +not, even if one hated him, his was a personality that made itself +missed. + +Of course, it was very unpleasant that she had to go and live in his +house. In his rough-hewn fashion, he'd been rather decent in some ways, +not abusing the man's power he had over her as a woman; still, Marise +told herself that she thanked Heaven to be rid of him. She must not +appear too joyous, however, or Mothereen would be shocked. So realistic +was the girl's air of sadness (helped by a prospect of heavy boredom), +that the dear woman attempted the task of cheering her up. + +"Would ye like me to show ye an album of photos I have of himself as a +boy and a growin' lad?" Mothereen wanted to know. "He was never much on +bein' took, after he grew up. But I've kept all his letters he wrote me +from the Front. They're great, and ye can have the run of 'em, me pet. +But first we'll go through the album together, don't ye think?" + +Marise said that she would be delighted. And she must have had a more +angelic nature than she'd supposed, because the thought of the ordeal +left her unruffled. + +Mothereen brought the volume in question--bound in purple morocco--and a +ribbon-tied bundle of letters to the girl's sitting-room. Then, with a +beaming countenance, she settled herself on the sofa and opened the +album on her lap. She had evidently no suspicion that she was being +patronised good-naturedly by "Johnny's" wife. Indeed, she fully believed +that the girl was impatiently waiting a treat. + +"Come and sit down beside me, Mavourneen," she said. "That's right! Now +we're cosy. See, this cute little photo at the beginnin' was Johnny when +I had him first. Ye know the story, don't ye?" + +"No-o," confessed Marise. She could easily have given an evasive answer; +but suddenly she was conscious that she _wished_ to know the story. +"Maj--he--never told me." + +"Never told ye!" echoed Mothereen. "Never told ye aught about the father +he's so proud of, and all the rest? Why, if it had not been for that +father of his, I don't suppose he'd have gone to the war like a shot, +the way he did." + +"Will you tell me--unless you think he'd rather you didn't?" asked +Marise, gazing at the badly-taken photograph of a handsome, +fearless-eyed child of five or six, in funny little trousers. + +"Sure, there's no reason _why_ he should mind. The boy has nothing to +blush for. It's all the contrary!" said Mothereen. "And I _will_ tell +ye. It's right ye should hear what the gossoon fought his way up from to +where he stands now. Ye've heard, at the least, that the father was +English?" + +"I think I did hear him tell someone--not me--that his father was a +Yorkshireman," Marise remembered. + +"He was that, and a gentleman besides, an officer in the British Army. +His name was the same as the child's--John Garth. It was an American +girl he'd married, a girl from out West here. She went over to England +as a kind of a nursery governess with a family of rich folks, and there +was a row--a flare-up of some sort. The folks left her behind when they +came home, and the girl got engaged to sing with a little concert party, +tourin' the provinces. It was in Yorkshire Captain Garth saw her, and +fell in love. He was always inventin' something or other, was my +Johnny's dad: like father like son, and when the one child born to the +pair of 'em was a toddler, the Captain had an accident with some +explosive stuff he was workin' at. The poor young man's right arm was +blown off, and his eyes were hurt. That meant he must leave the army, +and as he wasn't wounded in the service of his country, not a red cent +of pension did he get! The poor girl wife was expectin' a second child, +but the shock she got by the accident brought on her trouble before its +time, and she and the baby died together. + +"It was nip and tuck that the Captain didn't die too. But he pulled +through somehow, and there was the boy to think of. When it turned out +that Government would do nothin', the poor man had a notion to come to +this side of the world--his dead wife's country. She'd always been +tellin' him, it seems, that those inventions of his, that the British +War Office turned up its nose at, might make his fortune in the States. + +"Well, he took the little money he had left, and thought to try his +luck. But he was pretty well done for, poor man, and a big storm there +was, crossin', just about put the finishin' touch; for he broke his leg +aboard ship." + +"Were you on the ship?" Marise asked. + +"Not me! 'Twas many a year since I was on board a ship," said Mothereen. +"Me and my man--Pat was his name--we had our honeymoon in the steerage. +'Twas out to the West we came, near to where we are now, which is why me +heart is in the West always. But troubles fell on Pat in business, and a +friend of his invited him to join in a new scheme, back East in New +York. The fellow'd been left a house there, off Third Avenue, and with +Pat to help in the expense of a start, furnishin', advertisin' and the +like, accordin' to him, they could coin money takin' boarders. It +sounded all right on paper, and so it might have been in practice, +maybe, with Pat to manage and me to cook, if half the boarders hadn't +slipped off without settlin' their bills. But that's what they did, the +spalpeens. And if troubles had been black out West, they was black and +blue in N'York! This was the time when Captain Garth came limpin' in out +of hospital, with his boy hangin' onto his hand. He'd seen our +advertisement in a paper, offerin' cheap board. The man looked like +death--and he didn't look like pay. But sure, me heart opened to the +pair of 'em at first sight! Ses I to meself, 'If I was to have a child, +I'd want one the pattern o' _that_.'" + +"What happened then?" Marise wanted to know, when Mothereen paused for +her thoughts to rush back to the past. + +"Just the things ye might suppose! We none of us had any luck. There was +no more doin' for the inventions in the States than there'd been in +England. The Captain left the child in my charge, and went to +Washington. There he hung about the place till the last of his money was +frittered away, and nothin' to show for it. But my, didn't that boy grow +into me heart, those days when he was like me own? Four years old he +was, and to look at him or hear him talk, you'd have said six! There +came along a big wave of 'flu, the end of that hard winter, and my Pat +and Captain Garth was both laid low with the sickness. Pat took it from +the Captain, nursin' him--and within a week of each other they was dead. +That's how me Johnny boy got to be me son." + +"You were a saint to adopt him, when his father caused your husband's +death," said Marise. + +"_Saint_, is it? Wait till ye hear the rest of the story, and know what +it was the boy did for me. Not much more than a baby he was, but with +twice the understandin' of many a grown-up man I've met. He saw the way +things were for me, with his wise little eyes, and he made up his mind +to help when the time came. + +"I had to give up the house, I couldn't hold on. I sold up my bits of +things, and took one room for the two of us, Johnny and me. I got some +sewin' to do, but 'twas in a neighbourhood of poor folk, and there +wasn't enough comin' in to keep bread in our mouths. What do you think +that baby did then, darlin'? I'm sure _this_ is the part of the story +he'd _never_ be tellin' ye!" + +"I can't imagine," said Marise. + +"How he saved a few cents I've never rightly known, for he was mum about +it. What I think is, he must have begged till he had a half-dozen +nickels or dimes. Then he bought newspapers, and sold 'em in the +streets. From the first minute he was a success, and it's not hard to +see why. He was in a different class from the poor dirty brats in the +same business. And if ye'll believe it, me girl, there was times when +the child kept the two of us on what he earned. From that day we never +looked back. He put spirit into me, and the heart to work. Now, I'll +turn over a page in the album, and show you our boy at the age of ten. +What d'ye think of him?" + +"He doesn't look like a seller of newspapers," said Marise. + +"No more he wasn't, by then. He and I had gone into the molasses candy +business. We made the candy ourselves; and if I do say it, there wasn't +its equal in New York. Johnny would have the stuff wrapped up in pretty +little packets of coloured paper tied with gold string, and I tell you, +it went like smoke! At night, Johnny attended a school, and picked up +knowledge as a chicken picks up corn. + +"Now, here he is in the album again at fifteen. We had the Mooney +Molasses Candies--three sorts--for sale in a lot of shops, and we'd a +little flat of our own, and money in the bank. Isn't he a fine fellow to +look at there? The makings of a man! 'Twas when he was fifteen that he +began to study the notebooks his father had left, and to turn his +thoughts to inventions of his own. The first thing was an oyster-opener. +The second was a fastener to keep shoe-strings from untying. Then there +was a big leap, and at eighteen he'd patented a toy pistol that fired +six shots, and no danger in one of 'em! That was what began to bring +_real_ money in; and Johnny said, 'Mothereen' (he'd called me that name +from the first), 'the next step is goin' to take us out West to the +place that you love!' So it did! 'Twas that high-speed bullet of his +which won him the notice of the War Office. It won him ten thousand +dollars, too; and on the strength of it he brought me back to the town +where Pat and I settled first, in the happy old days. But little did I +dream even then of the destiny ahead of the boy! I was lovin' him too +much, and rememberin' the child he'd been, to realise that by me side a +real genius was growin' up. I might o' done, though, if I'd kept me eyes +open, the way he studied and worked, worked and studied, readin' the +classics and learnin' languages and mathematics the while he'd be +faggin' out some new invention. But Johnny was never the boy to brag or +talk about himself. He was always queer in spots, sort of broodin', +you'd almost say sulky, unless you knew him, and a temper, too; though +never with me. Then came his discovery of how to make motor spirit out +of coke. That finished buildin' this house we're in, and bought his land +at Grand Canyon. I mean it did all that in the first few months. Soon +afterwards the dollars poured on us by thousands--yes, tens of +thousands! You sure heard of the trench motor-tool for diggin', I know, +because 'twas in all the English papers after the war had broken out, +and Johnny was at the Front. There was all that about his Victoria Cross +at the same time, or was it a bit before? You can tell me, I guess?" + +"It must have been before. I never knew why he was decorated," Marise +said. + +"He wouldn't tell you when ye asked?" cried Mothereen, as certain as she +was of life that the girl _had_ asked--yes, begged and prayed! + +"He never did tell." + +"Well, ye shall read the newspaper paragraphs yerself--American papers, +mind ye!--for he never sent me the English ones, and I got what I got +through his friends. I've columns cut out. And with them there's the +praise of the trench machine, and the new kind of steel--Radium steel, +he calls it--that they say will make him a millionaire in a year or +two." + +"A millionaire!" echoed Marise. "I thought he was poor!" + +"Poor! Ye thought that--yet ye _married_ him--you, who could get anyone +ye liked, from Princes of the Blood down to Cotton Kings! You _darlin'_! +Well, ye'll have yer reward. The boy is not poor. He's rich--what +_anybody_ would call rich." + +"Then why----" Marise burst out, and stopped herself. If she hadn't +bitten back the words, they would have tumbled out: "_Why_ did he marry +me?" + +She felt very small in spirit and mean of soul compared with humble +Mothereen, whose faith and loyalty had bridged the dark years with gold. + +Why had a man brought up by Mothereen wanted to play the dummy hand in +this ridiculous game of marriage? + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE BEREAVED ONE + + +When his ship docked, two telegrams were handed to Lord Severance. The +first which he opened was from Mrs. Sorel, and he glanced through it +eagerly. + + "Everything going as well as could be expected, but your return + and final completion of arrangement eagerly awaited.--Mary S." + +This was not quite as reassuring, somehow, as the sender intended it to +be. There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind the words, which twanged +the wrong chords of Severance's emotions. Hastily he tore open the +second envelope, hoping to find a message from Marise herself. But the +signature was "Constantine Ionides." Then Severance read with horrified, +incredulous eyes, "OEnone died suddenly last night of heart failure." + +For a moment Tony did not understand all that the news would mean for +him. OEnone dead! Well, he was free, at least! The hateful farce would +not have to be gone through. He could sail for New York again in a few +days. + +But a shock of realisation broke the thought. Not to marry OEnone +meant that he would not get his uncle's promised wedding gift. A fortune +was lost! + +The blow was a staggering one. He felt its full force, as if he had +abruptly turned to face a gale from the east. + +Wasn't it just his luck? Didn't everything always go like that for him +in life? Almost to lay his hand on the things he wanted, to see them +slip away from under his fingers! + +The journey to London was interminable. He suffered so much during the +miserable hours that it seemed as if he must have the consolation of +some reward at the end--must learn that OEnone hadn't died after all, +or that, better still, Uncle Constantine intended in any case to give +him the money which should have been his. + +But there was no brightening of the gloom for him. In fact, things were +rather worse at the end of the journey, if possible, than he had +expected. Uncle Constantine's heart was not softened by sorrow. On the +contrary, he turned upon Severance in a rage and blamed him for +OEnone's death. + +The girl had faded visibly after her cousin left England. She knew one +or two people who thought it for her good to be told that Tony's +"mission" was to follow Marise Sorel. OEnone had subscribed for +several American papers, in order to read of Lord Severance's doings on +the other side. One was a weekly gossip rag, and she had been turning +over a copy when she died. In fact, the thing was found in her hand, +open at a page where Severance's name was coupled in a sneering way with +that of Marise Sorel. The actress was said to have jilted him for a +Major Garth, V.C., of his own regiment, and the rumour was reported that +out of pique Severance would now marry his rich Greek cousin in London. + +"It was enough to kill her--and it did!" said Ionides. "Damn you, +Severance! I wish to Heaven you were dead instead of my poor girl who +loved you. And I wish to hell I could upset her will in your favour. I +can't do that. But not a shilling of _my_ money will you ever get." + +So OEnone had left him her own private fortune, as she had told him +she meant to do if she died! That was something--probably the equivalent +of the pledged million dollars--not allowing for the vile exchange. But +of what use was _one_ million dollars to him, in his present plight? The +least he could do with was double that sum. + +To carry out the bargain with Garth and free Marise he would have to +hand over a cool million. But how was he going to pay even his most +pressing debts and live--much less _marry_--if he cleaned himself out of +his whole inheritance at one stroke? + +On the other hand, if he kept the million doubtless coming to him by +OEnone's will, he would have nothing to offer Garth. The whole plan +would be a colossal failure: worse than a failure--a catastrophe. Garth +would stick to Marise from motives of spite, if nothing worse. The +girl's life would be ruined, and she would be lost to him unless he +killed Garth, or unless the man laid himself open to divorce +proceedings--which was the very thing he would be careful not to +do--unless well paid. + +Of course, a woman could divorce a man for incompatibility of temper and +things of that sort in one or two states out West, in America, Severance +had vaguely heard. But a hocus pocus affair of that sort wouldn't be +considered legal in England, and Marise could never, in such +circumstances, become the Countess of Severance, even if they had money +to marry on--which they wouldn't have! + +Severance had not known or guessed how the girl had said to herself +that, if there were a question of jilting, _she_ wished to be the +jilter, not the jilted. Had he known, he would have felt even more +bitter against Fate. As it was, he pitied Marise, although the disasters +which had fallen on them both came through her impulsiveness. If only +she hadn't rushed off and married John Garth on an hour's notice, that +beastly paragraph would never have been printed, and OEnone would +still be alive. It had been foolish, rash, passionately mistaken. +Severance felt hotly. But there was little resentment in his pain. He +blamed himself almost, if not quite, as much as Marise, and all that was +Greek in him accepted, while it writhed at, the fatality. + +When OEnone's funeral was over and the contents of her will known, the +legacy reached the amount promised. But--the exchange, the awful +exchange between England and America! And the equally appalling death +duties! Even if Severance decided to plunge, and offer _all_ to Garth, +the sum would fall far short of a million dollars. Besides, he couldn't +offer all, or nearly all. He was dunned on every side. + +There were moments--moments when he was most Greek--when Tony said to +himself that he would have to leave Marise to her fate. She had made her +bed. She must lie on it. He would stay in England, pay his debts, and be +extremely comfortable on what was left over out of OEnone's gift. But +there were other moments, burning moments, fanned to molten fire by Mrs. +Sorel's letters and telegrams. He _couldn't_ give up Marise! Something +must be done. And at last, through the red mists he saw a way to bluff +himself out of the depths. + +"Coming back at once," he cabled Mary Sorel at Bell Towers, and started +the same day (the fourteenth day after OEnone's funeral) in a cabin +given up at the eleventh hour by its purchaser. + +The legacy was not yet in his hands, nor would it be for months to come, +but Severance had been able to borrow a substantial sum on the certainty +of his prospects. The voyage was stormy, and not being a good sailor, he +arrived in New York a wreck. He had courage enough, however, to start at +once for Los Angeles, where he meant to see his friend and well-wisher, +Mrs. Sorel. With her counsel he would consolidate his plans, and start +the campaign against Garth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE VISITORS' BOOK + + +"Oh, Tony, what a downfall of our castle in the air!" were Mary's first +words, as she held out her hands to Severance. "This beautiful Bell +Towers, where we hoped we should be so happy--you and Marise and +I--wasted--wasted! Our dream broken! The best prospect for my poor child +now is, that she can go back to the stage and begin again where she left +off." + +Severance had come to her for comfort, but found he had to give instead +of get it. + +"Oh, I say! Things aren't as bad as all that!" he protested. "Tell me +exactly how matters are, so far as you know, with Marise. Then I'll tell +you how they are with me. You must remember, I'm not without +resources--or ideas." + +They were standing together on a rose-hung loggia, looking over a +fountain terrace where oranges shone in the sun and a hundred flowers +poured forth perfume like a hymn of praise. As Mary Sorel had said, the +place was a perfect setting for romance. But all hope wasn't over yet! + +Tea was brought to the loggia; and when the maid had gone, Mary began to +tell Severance--not only the news he wanted to hear, but, alas! much +news that made sorry hearing indeed. + +"Céline writes me, as often as Marise does," Mrs. Sorel explained, a +little shamefacedly. "I arranged that she should do so. Marise is _odd_ +in some ways, you know. Not secretive exactly. No. But she has sudden, +unexpected sort of reserves. And I wanted an unbiased account of +affairs, from--well, from more than one point of view. They've left +Albuquerque, near where the adopted mother lives, and gone to the place +I wrote you about--the Grand Canyon. At least, Garth's property isn't +far from the Canyon. You can see it from the windows. 'Vision House,' he +calls the place; but I think it's more because getting the land was the +fulfilment of some old dream than because of the view. Marise says +that's wonderful, though--the view, I mean." + +"You can't expect me to care about the view from Garth's damned house, +where he keeps Marise a prisoner!" exploded Severance. + +"No, dear boy--forgive me! I was wandering from the point, thinking of +her letters. _They_ wander, too. She tells me all kinds of things about +the place. She says it's amazing. She talks more of everything else than +herself." + +"What does she say about Garth?" + +"Not more than she can help. But--oh, _one_ thing! Tony, she tells me +he's rich--very rich." + +"Rot! He wants her to believe that." + +"No. Someone else told her, not he. And the house, though it's simple, +is the house of a rich man, she says. I should have been there by this +time, if you hadn't wired me you were coming here to get my advice +before--before deciding what to do next. And--besides, I was a _little_ +delayed by the visit of a _charming_ Comtesse de Sorel who came to Los +Angeles, and thought she might be distantly related to poor dear Louis. +We fagged up the family tree together. It appears that Louis just missed +being a comte himself, by descent, because of--ah--a family accident: a +marriage that didn't take place. Think of the difference to us if----" + +"I'm thinking of the difference to me because of a marriage that did +take place!" Severance cut her short. "I shall start for the Grand +Canyon at once. I suppose there's an hotel there." + +"Marise says there's a _dream_ of an hotel, close to the abyss, or +whatever you call it. The name is El Tovar, after some old Spanish +general who seems to have been even more of a brute than Garth. You'll +go there--naturally. Yet I thought from what you said that all was +over--that you couldn't _pay_ Garth, and----" + +"I'll do something! You don't suppose I'm going to stand quietly by and +leave him in possession, do you?" + +"Well, he's not exactly in _possession_. To put it like that is to +exaggerate----" + +"He's got the legal power of a husband over Marise, and, one way or +another, he'll have to be kicked out!" + +"That, at least, will be something to the good--if you succeed, dear +boy. But this terrible disappointment over the money.... What _do_ you +think of doing?" + +Severance put into words what he thought of doing. Mums listened +earnestly, weighing each pro and con as he talked. For a wonder, she +didn't interrupt. It was only when he had finished and awaited an +opinion that she spoke. + +"Very good! Very good indeed!" she praised him. "It seems to me that +you've analysed the man's character, and formed your plan on the +analysis. Marise--ah, well, _she's_ more complicated than he is, of +course! But I think this idea of yours will appeal to her romantic side. +Like all girls, she _is_ romantic." + +"Everything depends upon how she feels towards me," said Severance. "She +did care a little--once. You don't think that what I--what's happened +has changed her?" + +"I don't see why it should have done," answered Mary. "After all, she +consented." + +"I'm afraid your influence was for something in that!" + +"Naturally a mother has influence. But Marise's mind is her own. She's +very individual. Besides, the time is so short since then." + +Yes, Mums was right there! The time was short--very short. Only a few +weeks had passed since the day when Marise had been persuaded to accept +the first Great Plan, though it felt more like several years. She +couldn't have changed--unless association with a man like Garth had made +her value Severance more than ever. + +The one amendment Mary had to make was that she should travel with Tony, +and be on the spot to help in the carrying out of this new, second plan. +But her suggestion was received with an ill grace. "I want to do it all +on my own," he objected. "If Marise is romantic, as you say she is, it +would spoil the whole show to have her mother in the background. No, +what's got to be done I want to do myself. You must wait here. I'll +bring her to you when I can, if things turn out the way I expect. +Anyhow, you trust her to me, don't you?" + +"Of course, dear Tony," Mums assured him. Her voice didn't sound quite +sincere, but then, it seldom did, unless she was in a temper. And after +all, Severance didn't care a hang whether she trusted him or not, so +long as she did not interfere. The mother of Marise bored him with her +pretensions and affectations, though she was useful at times; and in the +future--that future which he hoped to share with Marise--he didn't +intend to see a great deal of Mrs. Sorel. + +Bell Towers was as beautiful as it had been described, and it was +his own for the next few months. But weary as he was, Severance +left the place that night, taking a stateroom in the train for +Williams--"Williams" being the prosaically-named junction for perhaps +the most romantic place in the world, the Grand Canyon. + + * * * * * + +Getting out at the small station Severance saw no Canyon at first. It +couldn't be so huge or wonderful as people said, he thought, and anyhow, +he didn't care for scenery--especially now. There was a pine wood, and +ascending out of it for a short distance he came to the hotel--a +glorified loghouse, it was--such a loghouse as the Geni of the Lamp +might have created for Aladdin by request. It was very big and very +beautiful. Even Severance, tired and out of temper, couldn't help +admitting its charm. Then, on the plateau of the hotel, above the wood, +he found himself gazing straight down into the canyon, and far across a +gulf of gold and rose. + +The man was amazed, almost stunned, for a moment. Constitutionally he +dreaded great heights and depths, and though the place was stupendously +magnificent, the moment his eyes saw its majesty Severance longed to +escape from it. With relief, he turned his back upon the flaming rocks +and sapphire depths, and almost ran into the hotel. + +There was a vast, low-ceilinged hall, with just the right sort of +furniture, and an odd invention--a cross between hammocks and hanging +sofas--suspended here and there by chains from the roof. In these things +girls sat; and there were several extremely handsome young men lounging +about, dressed like cowboys. Severance caught snatches of conversation +about ponies, and the "long trail" and the "short trail." Everyone had +either just made the descent into the canyon, or intended to make it; +but Severance had no wish for the adventure which brought most people to +this abode of wonders. + +The hotel, it appeared, was nearly full, but there were two or three +rooms free for that night, and Tony engaged one. He then inquired the +way and the distance to "Vision House." + +"Oh, Major Garth's!" exclaimed the hotel clerk. "It's about a mile or a +mile and a half from here. It's on the edge of the pine forest--has just +a group of big trees between it and the canyon--not enough to hide the +view, though. Some think the trees improve it--make a sort of frame. You +can walk, easily. But I saw Major Garth in the hotel half an hour ago, +with a friend who's convalescing here after being ill. I'm sure he's not +gone yet. I can send and see if he----" + +"Please don't do that!" Severance broke in. "I am--a relative of Mrs. +Garth, and I have a message to deliver from her mother. There's no need +to disturb Major Garth if he's with a friend." + +Severance had intended to bathe, change into fresh clothes, and have a +long, cool drink--the drink of his life--before starting out to call at +Vision House. He could thus have been at his best, and have felt sure of +doing himself justice in any ordeal he might be destined to go through. +But with the certain knowledge that Garth was out of the way--perhaps +only for a short time--it would have been tempting Providence to delay +for one unnecessary second. + +He inquired just how to go, and vetoed the suggestion that he should +first look at his room. + +"If you'll register, I'll ring for a chap to show you where you start +from," said the clerk, pushing a big book forward and handing the guest +a pen. + +"Earl of Severance," Tony wrote, expecting to see the man look +impressed, but no such emotion was visible. Instead, he turned back a +few pages to show the signature of an Indian rajah and a Scottish duke. +A mere earl looked small fry compared with them! + +On the same page with the duke, Severance happened to catch sight of a +name which was vaguely familiar to him, and he kept the book open to +refresh his memory. + +"Miss Zélie Marks," he repeated to himself. "Now where have I heard...." + +Then, suddenly, he knew. + +Zélie Marks's face rose before his mind, and he recalled where he had +seen it last--recalled also a look he had caught in a pair of handsome +eyes fixed upon Garth the day of the first visit. + +Mrs. Sorel had tried to send the two off together, and Severance had +said to himself, "That couple know each other pretty well. The girl's in +love with the fellow!" + +So she was out West, at this hotel, close to Garth's house! Why? What +did it mean? It must mean _something_.... Did Marise know?... Had Miss +Marks been brought here purposely to give the wished-for--the +arranged-for--excuse for a divorce? Or was the reason for her presence +more subtle and more complicated? + +Severance felt excited, as if he had picked up something of unexpected +value. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE TERRACE + + +Marise stood on the high terrace which looked towards the rose-and-gold +gulf of the Canyon. Gazing out, between the dark slim trunks of pines, +she saw the sunlight moving slowly from rock to rock. "It's like stray +sheep of the golden fleece," she thought, "being herded by an invisible +shepherd to join the flock." + +Yes, the moving gleams were all massed together now. But they were +travelling on. Suddenly they had ceased to be a flock of sheep. They +were shining bricks, built into a citadel. + +"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately palace dome decree," Marise quoted +to herself. + +How astonishing that so marvellous a place had existed for thousands +upon thousands of years, and she had hardly heard of it, until John +Garth had brought her to this house of his! + +"Vision House" was the right name for it. Garth hadn't meant it like +that--or if he had, he'd not told her so!--but one _had_ visions here. +One couldn't think little ordinary, foolish thoughts. Life seemed to be +upon its highest plane, and whether one wished to do so or not, one had +to try and reach that plane. One wanted to be at one's best, to be "in +the picture"--and the best must be very good. It must even be noble. + +Whoever had designed Vision House and chosen its furnishings had felt +that. There were great windows bowed out in generous eagerness towards +the Canyon. There were wide loggias, upheld by clear-cut, pale stone +pillars. In the rooms were no brilliant colours to jar with the rainbow +glory just beyond the delicate green veil of pines. The curtains of grey +or cream fell in soft, straight lines that framed a glowing +picture--rocks of every fantastic form and flaming colour, under the +blue of heaven: rocks like castles carved of coral and studded with +lapis lazuli: statue rocks of transparent amethyst, or emerald, +glittering where the sun touched them or fading to the smoky blue of +star-sapphires as the shadows crept up from the bottom of the vast bowl. + +There was an organ in one of the rooms. Garth had thought that the +finest piano in the world would be too tinkling a thing so near the +thrilling silence of the Canyon. He could play the great instrument +himself. She wouldn't have believed it, if she had not heard the music +as she walked alone on the terrace by moonlight, and had gone to peep in +at the long, open window. _How_ he could play!--though he said casually, +when she asked him, "Oh, I wanted to do it, so I taught myself. I hear +things in my head. I like to make them come out." A queer fellow! + +In the library there were only books which Garth thought "worthy of the +Canyon." But in her room there were a few French novels. It was the one +place in the house, too, where there were pretty, frivolous decorations +such as a Parisian beauty of the seventeenth, or an American of the +twentieth, century would love. _That_ was what he thought of her! _She_ +would crave such surroundings at the Grand Canyon, as well as in New +York or London! She, and no one else whom he had ever planned to bring +here! + +When Marise thought of that room, and the difference between it and all +the others, she felt--not angry, for one _couldn't_ feel angry for small +reasons, close to the greatness of the Canyon,--no, not angry, but +pained, and--wistful. + +She was wistful because she could not help seeing that the things Garth +must hastily have ordered for her pleasure were actually suited to her +type, her personality, and she had growing pains of the spirit which +made her long to climb high and higher, out of herself. Somehow that +room seemed to represent herself: soft and vaguely sweet; pretty, +perfumed, charming, fantastic and--forgetable. How should Garth have +known that she would suddenly become a different self, irradiated by the +sublime glory of this place? Why, even she hadn't known it, until she +had begun to feel the change! And it had started at sight of the +difference between those other, nobly simple rooms, which somehow +matched the Canyon, and hers which childishly laughed in its face. + +Or--had Garth expected her to change, under the influence, which was +like the influence of all the gods, and _wanted_ her to feel the +difference as she was feeling it now? + +As she asked herself this question a pretty, half-breed Mexican maid +flitted out upon the terrace and announced "Ze Earl of Sev'rance." + +Marise started. She need not have been surprised. She ought to have +known (having heard of OEnone's death) that any day might bring Tony +to her. But the truth was that, for the time--quite a long time--she had +forgotten all about him. + +He didn't belong to the Grand Canyon! But suddenly she felt a desire to +see what he would be like, confronting it. + +"Show Lord Severance out here," she directed the maid. And then, between +the moment when the girl turned her back, and the moment when Tony +stepped through an open window-door of the drawing-room, Marise had to +realise that she faced a crisis--had to prepare for it. + +The red-gold light that always came from the Canyon like flame made +Severance seem to have deep mauve rings under his eyes, an appearance +which gave him a dissipated look. She began by not thinking him as +deadly handsome as she had always thought him in London and sometimes in +New York. No, certainly he didn't go well with Canyons and things like +that! But, of course, he was tired. He had travelled fast, and a very +long way--to meet _her_. She must remember this in his favour. + +He didn't glance through the trees at the dazzling glory. He'd had +enough and too much of the old Canyon! He looked straight at Marise. And +he walked straight to her, seizing both her hands, which resisted a +little, then thought better of it and welcomed him. + +"Poor Tony!" she breathed. + +"Not 'poor Tony,' now I see you again," he said. "Marise, you're more +beautiful than ever. You're the most beautiful thing on this globe. +Where can we go, where a lot of huge windows won't be glaring at us like +bulging eyes?" + +"There's nobody to glare through them," answered Marise. +"My--_he_--isn't at home." + +"I know," said Severance. "That's why I hurried to you without stopping +even to bathe and change. I wanted a talk with you before thrashing +things out with Garth. 'Wanted'? That isn't the word! I thirsted, I +burned for it. He's not in the house, but servants are. Marise, I've +travelled six thousand miles, hardly resting--just for this moment--and +others to follow--better moments. Give me one of the better ones now. I +deserve a reward. And I can't take it here on this beastly terrace." + +Marise suddenly realised that nothing in the world would move her from +the terrace. She was glad of the window-eyes. They were her protectors +against--against--the man she had loved. + +The words spoke themselves in her head. She heard them. She was +surprised at them. _Had_ loved! Didn't she love Tony Severance now? If +not, why had she done all that she had done--so many wild, reckless +things? It seemed that she was asking the question not of herself, but +of the Canyon. The Canyon was like God. In the glittering, flaming, +blue-shadowed depths of it was knowledge of Everything. + +"I think we must stay here," she said. "There is no other place where we +can very well go. Would you--like to sit down on that seat by the wall?" + +"What I would like is to kneel at your feet with my arms round your +waist and my head on your breast--your dear, divine breast," answered +Severance. + +"Well--you can't!" she panted. "Tony, be sensible!" She sat down +hastily, and Severance dropped beside her on the velvet-cushioned stone +seat. He sat very close to the girl, and she edged slightly away. + +As she did so, he followed until she was pressed into the corner of the +bench. He laid his arm along the back of the seat, and pressed her +thinly-covered shoulder. + +"Please don't!" she whispered. + +Severance laughed out--a bitter laugh. "This is the way you greet me +after all I've gone through to get to you--and to get you!" he said. +"You know, I _am_ going to get you." + +Marise did not answer. She knew nothing of the kind. All she knew was, +quite suddenly, that there was no longer any doubt in her mind on one +subject. She did _not_ love Tony! She was sorry for him, and sorry for +herself, and sorry for everything in the world. But she did not love +him. She disliked having him touch her. + +"You _do_ know it, don't you?" he insisted. + +"No, I don't," she stammered. "There--there's nothing to know." + +"Are you acting a part with me?" Severance flung at her. "Or what has +come over you, Marise? One would think you in reality the virtuous +married woman, keeping the _tertium quid_ at arm's length----" + +"Well, I _am_ a married woman. And--and I'm not _un_virtuous!" she +defied him, through her heart-beats. "Things have changed, Tony----" + +"Why--because I've got a million dollars less than you expected me to +have?" + +The girl sprang to her feet, tingling and trembling. Severance jumped up +also, and belted her slim waist with his hot hands. He thought that this +was the way to regain her--that by grasping her body he might seize her +elusive spirit. It was all that Marise could do not to scream, "Help! +Help!" like an early-Victorian heroine. She bit back the cry of +primitive womanhood, but to her intense surprise, and even horror, she +found herself landing a rousing box on Tony's ear. + +"You vixen!" he blurted. + +"Cad!" she retorted. + +With that, his hands dropped from her waist. His face had been pale with +fatigue. Now it was paler with pain. "You don't--mean that, Marise?" he +stammered. + +And, of course, she didn't. Things had happened in the past which had +encouraged him to this. He had thought she loved him. She was to blame +as much as he was--more, perhaps--the Canyon would say. + +"I'm sorry I boxed your ear, Tony," she apologised. "But--but--if you go +on like this, I'm awfully afraid I shall lose my head and box it again." + +"I don't understand you," he said, more quietly. + +"I don't understand myself," she confessed. + +"Then"--and fire from the Canyon lit Severance's Greek eyes--"it's my +plan to make you understand. You love me. You _daren't_ go back from it +all, after what's passed. I love you, and you belong to me." + +"Good afternoon, Severance," said Garth, at the window. "I heard you'd +arrived." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +STRAIGHT TALK + + +If Garth had appeared two minutes earlier, he need have suffered no +uncertainty about Marise. But unfortunately she was not in these days +the romantic heroine of a stage play. Characters did not come on or go +off at just the right instant to work up her scenes in life. Therefore +this unrehearsed effect ended with an anti-climax. Whether Severance +were cast for hero or villain remained doubtful: and whether she had +acted the noble wife or the weak lover was left vague: or at least, it +was vague to the mind of Garth. He had no idea what Marise had done. He +was sure only that Severance had done as much as she would let him do. +By and by he expected to learn a great deal more: through the process of +deduction. + +"Good gracious, if I _had_ called out, he would have heard me!" thought +Marise; and was thankful that she hadn't. To yell for John Garth to +rescue her from Tony Severance! That would have been too inane, too +ridiculous. Nevertheless, a picture flashed vividly across her brain: +Garth as he had looked that night at Mothereen's house when hearing her +shriek he had bounded to her bedside from behind the screen. His collar +had been off, his strong throat bare, his hair rumpled. It had occurred +to Marise as she peeped from between her lashes that he'd make a fine +model for a young Samson, newly sheared by Delilah. + +The man's quiet voice and his drawled "Good afternoon, Severance," +frightened her a little. She had seen him angry, but never violent. She +felt convinced, somehow, that the angrier he was, the more quiet he +would be--deadly quiet. Just why she felt that, she couldn't have +explained, for she did not know him well--indeed, she knew him hardly at +all. Yet she _was_ sure--very sure. And she was sure also that his "good +afternoon" didn't express Garth's real emotion at sight of Severance +with her on the terrace of Vision House. + +"What had I better do?" she wondered. "Go--or stay?" + +She decided to stay, and keep peace between the two men if need be. +Besides, she _must_ hear what they would say to each other! + +Severance had no conventional answer for Garth's "Good afternoon." He +stood silent, staring and frowning, fingering his small black moustache. + +"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" asked his host. + +Severance had never been able to forget the scene between himself and +Garth at the latter's hotel in New York. He was at heart more Greek than +British; and the days are long past since Greeks were aggressive +fighters. He shrank from any repetition of his experience at the +Belmore, and had come to Vision House meaning not to rouse Garth to +violent issues. That cool question was too much, however, for his +prudence. Anyhow, even Garth wouldn't be brute enough to attack him +before Marise! + +"I have come to bring Miss Sorel a message from her mother, who wants +her at Los Angeles," he said sharply. + +"That might do if she were Miss Sorel," returned Garth. "But she isn't." + +"She is professionally," said Severance. + +"She's ceased to be a professional." + +"Temporarily." + +"Oh! Your point is that she's the temporary wife of a temporary +gentleman, and that as such her time with the T.G. is up. Is that it?" + +"Precisely." + +"I see. You've come to wind up the arrangement?" + +"I have. You must have been expecting me." + +"I didn't let my mind dwell on you. How are you going to pay me my +million--in banknotes, bonds or a cheque? Because I may as well inform +you, I shall refuse to accept a cheque." + +"I don't mean to offer you one." + +"Very well. Have you got the million on you?" + +"I have not! I haven't got it anywhere--that is, all of it. I shall pay +you by instalments." + +"I can't agree to accept the money like that." + +"You'll have to!" exploded Severance. "There's nothing else you can do." + +"You think so? We shall see. But it occurs to me that one instalment +deserves another. You pay me by instalments: I allow my wife to go to +her mother by instalments. Some of her trunks can go first." + +"For God's sake don't joke about this thing!" broke out Severance. "It's +too coarse--even for you." + +"Strikes me that it would be coarser to take it seriously," said Garth. +"And there's no need of doing that any more." + +"What do you mean?" the other asked sharply. + +"As I pointed out before, the 'bargain's' smashed to bits." + +"Nothing of the sort!" Severance flung at him. "There wasn't a word +spoken about handing you the whole million in a bunch." + +"There was something said about handing it over in advance. It wasn't +handed over." + +"That was Marise's fault, not mine. She rushed on the marriage out of +childish pique against me, never stopping to dream of the consequences." + +"Which, however, haven't been very disastrous for her," said Garth. +"Have they, Marise?" + +"No--o," she murmured. "But oh, please, both of you--don't lose your +heads!" + +"Mine's on my shoulders," returned Garth calmly. "And I see an +excrescence of some sort protruding from Severance's. You need have no +fear for either of us. Still, if you prefer to wait indoors, we can get +on without you for awhile." + +"No, I'd rather stop where I am." Marise chose. + +"To go back then," said Garth; "the fault, if it was a fault, anyhow +wasn't mine. I obeyed the lady's commands and married her without +haggling for money down. As there was no 'bargain' to stick to, I stuck +to my post, the post of dummy husband, to oblige her, not for any +mercenary reason. I shall go on sticking to it, if not to please her, or +myself, just because I've got into the habit. I can't break that even +for Mrs. Sorel; certainly not for you." + +"I'm not talking of myself now," barked Severance. "I'm talking of +Marise. She wants to be free. Surely you won't hold her against her +will." + +"Surely she can speak for herself!" said Garth. + +Marise did not speak. Her senses began to whirl. She did not know what +was to become of her. She couldn't tell what she wished would become of +her! She felt as if a wave had swept over her head. She was drowning. + +"No!" snapped Garth, when she remained silent, looking at neither, but +gazing anxiously out towards the Canyon. "No, I agreed to play the dummy +hand during your absence for the sum of a million dollars. I haven't got +the million. But even if I had got it, I should have demanded a second +million to clear out. There was nothing specified on that score in New +York." + +"It was taken for granted, of course!" said Severance. "There was no +other meaning possible. We trusted to your honour." + +"We?" + +"Miss Sorel and I--and her mother." + +"That's news to me. Perhaps I shall appreciate it as a compliment when +I'm old--ninety or so. I don't now. I simply don't believe it." + +"You think we lie?" + +"First person singular, please! Marise hasn't spoken." + +"Damn you!" broke out Severance, at the end of his tether, and for once +reckless of consequences. "You refuse to let her go--you refuse equally +to leave her." + +"That's so," said Garth, with an exaggerated nasal twang which made +Severance want to kill him for his insolence. He started forward, +itching to strike; but something he saw in Garth's eyes brought him to a +standstill. That confounded tooth episode was always "throwing itself up +at him," so to speak! Fortunately, however, he remembered something at +that instant--a weapon which he had almost overlooked, though it was +within his grasp. He calmed himself with a kind of mental and physical +stiffening. + +"If you don't intend to carry out your agreement--I insist, _your +agreement_--! why have you brought that secretary girl, Miss Marks, all +the way from New York to El Toyar Hotel?" he hurled at Garth. "When I +heard she was there and that you were constantly riding over from your +place to see her, I supposed it was done on purpose to give Marise an +easy chance to get her divorce. As it is----" + +"As it is," Garth cut him short, "the affair is not your business." + +"It's Marise's business, if it _doesn't_ mean what I thought." + +"Then let her attend to it. She's quite capable of doing that," said +Garth. "And now, unless you can produce a million dollars at sight, or +still better, two million, don't you think you'd be wise to blow back to +your hotel? It'll soon be too dark to walk." + +Severance turned furiously to the pale girl. "Marise--can you stand by +and see me ordered away like this?" + +She looked at him with a strange look which he could not read at all. +"This is his house, Tony," she answered, in an odd, dull voice. "Not +mine." + +"I think you'd best go, for your own sake," said Garth. "But come back, +of course, when you've got the money. If we're here then, we'll be glad +to see you." + +Severance turned without another word, even to Marise, and walked away +as he had come, passing through the drawing-room. Garth started to +follow, but Marise ran to him and stopped him with a small, ice-cold +hand on his arm. "Why are you going after Lord Severance?" she +whispered, her lips dry. + +"Only to see that he doesn't lose himself somewhere in the house and +hide under a table or sofa," Garth explained. + +Her hand dropped. She let him go. + +There was no fear of anything melodramatic, she saw. Yet she was not +relieved. She felt as if she had some black, hollow, worn-out thing in +her breast instead of a heart. It was heavy and useless, and hardly +beat. + +"That horrid girl!" she said half aloud when Garth had gone. "I always +knew, really, she would be here. I believe he _did_ give her the jewels, +and Mothereen wangled them away from her somehow. He's pretending to +follow Tony, and see him out. But he doesn't mean to come back here to +me." + +As she thought this, Garth came back. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +STUMBLING IN THE DARK + + +After all, Severance had hardly expected a more brilliant result from +his bluff. The one real failure was in losing his temper, which, when +discussing his plan with Mums, he'd meant to preserve like a jewel of +price. + +Only the short preliminary round had been played. The game proper was +all before him. He'd tested Marise to begin with. She had not been +completely satisfying. That is, she hadn't thrown herself into his arms +and sighed, "Take me away, darling Tony!" which would have been the +ideal thing. But on the other hand, she hadn't very actively repelled +him. If Garth had not appeared on the scene like a stage demon, all +might have been different. The fellow was a bully, and had cowed the +girl. Heaven knew to what means he had resorted in these last weeks to +break her high spirit. But of course there was no doubt that she wanted +to free herself, and the best service Severance could give his dear +lady-love was to take her (ostensibly) against her will. + +That brought him back mentally to the plan he had explained to Mary +Sorel at Bell Towers--the plan she had approved. He must carry it out at +once. And Zélie Marks's presence at the hotel might help, he began dimly +to see now. + +By the time he had reached El Toyar he saw with more clearness. At the +hotel desk he scribbled on one of his visiting cards, "Please grant me a +short interview. I come to you from Mrs. John Garth." This card he +slipped into an envelope and closed down the flap. Then he addressed it, +and requested the clerk, "Kindly have this sent up immediately to Miss +Marks." + +While he awaited an answer, or the arrival of Zélie, Severance debated +whether or no to wire Mary Sorel. + +She had suggested his doing so, to prevent any danger of scandal in the +working out of the plan. But in his heart Tony had no longer the holy +terror of that bogey which had chilled him while OEnone was alive. + +Then, the least whisper of gossip connecting him with Miss Sorel, or +even Mrs. Garth, might have ruined the prospect of marriage with his +cousin: and that would have been, indirectly, as harmful to Marise as +himself. Now, however, when there was nothing further to be gained or +lost for either of them from Constantine Ionides, Severance need think +only of himself and Marise; and he thought of himself first. + +His intention was to take Marise away from Garth, who had no right to +the girl and was keeping her against her true wish. If necessary, +Severance would take her by force, for her own good, because then the +thing would be done and over with: there would be no going back. +But--anyhow--he would take her! + +Mums had urged him to wire, if his first attempt failed, and Garth +refused to see reason as presented to him with mild bluff. She wanted to +fly to the Grand Canyon and be on the spot--ready for emergencies--to +stand by her daughter. But Severance wasn't sure even now, as things had +turned out, whether he would be wise in furthering this wish. + +It was natural, of course. But just as scandal would have been fatal +before, it might be useful in the present situation. If her "Mums" were +close at hand, Marise might in the first confusion of her mind seek +refuge under the maternal wing, from the man she loved. If she did +anything futile like that, it would give Garth time to act: whereas, if +Marise had no refuge but her lover--oh, distinctly it would be tempting +Providence to telegraph to Mums! + + * * * * * + +"Well?" said Garth, when Marise stood statuelike in the blue dusk. + +"I don't think it _is_ very well," she answered slowly. + +"I warned you fairly that I'd not stand out of Severance's way," Garth +reminded her, his face so grey and grim in the twilight that the girl +remembered how she had thought it looked carved from rock. + +"Yet only a few minutes ago you offered to leave me, for a bribe of a +second million." + +"There can't be a 'second' million till there's been a first." + +"The principle is the same." + +"There's where you're mistaken. I think now the time has come for you to +understand. But I had a sneaking idea that perhaps you did understand, +already. You have a sense of humour--a strong one, for a woman." + +"Has a sense of humour anything to do with--this affair?" + +"Yes. A grim one. But if you don't see it----" + +"Sometimes for a minute I've wondered if I did see--something." + +"What did you think you saw?" + +"I--hardly care to put it into words." + +"All right. I'll do it for you. But if I do, you must answer honestly." + +"I will--if I answer at all." + +"Very well, I'll risk your answering. You wondered pretty often and by +flashes if the question of money ever had anything to do with my +accepting the damnable and disgusting offer Severance made to me. Was +that it?" + +"Ye-es. Though what else could it be, when you showed in every way that +your love--if it was love--had turned to--to actual _hate_, before you +married me?" + +"Oh, not so bad as that!" Garth protested, something like a queer, +suppressed laugh, shaking his voice. + +"Dislike, then." + +"That sounds as if I hadn't treated you decently." + +"No, for you _have_. You've been very decent indeed--except that you've +forced me to do lots of things I haven't wanted to do, like living in +that suite at the Plaza and--and coming out here, and all that." + +"Wasn't it necessary, as you were so anxious to avoid scandal?" + +"There might have been other ways." + +"I didn't see them. Anyhow, it's done now. It can't be undone. And as +things were, I've tried to treat you as you want to be treated, all +through. As to the money, I will defend myself there, since it seems +that you have seen to the bottom of the well--where truth lies!--only in +those short flashes. If Severance had ever tried to hand me a million +dollars or any other sum for what I've done, I'd have thrown it in his +face, and knocked the face in after it. That's what I meant from the +first. So now you know." + +"But--if you'd stopped wanting me? Why--why? You said yourself I didn't +seem to be a judge of how much it took to kill love." + +"Yes, I said that." + +"And you said other things. You said a million was always useful to +anyone----" + +"There I banked again on your sense of humour. Or perhaps a little on +your judgment of character." + +"I must confess I've tried to judge yours!" Marise exclaimed, almost in +spite of herself. "But I can't--I'm always stumbling against things--in +the dark." + +"Well, there's plenty of 'dark'! I admit that," said Garth. "Many people +would say that of me. Perhaps the only one who wouldn't is little +Mothereen, and we can't count her, can we? There are all sorts of horrid +possibilities in the dark, where a character's concerned. My motive, +though _not_ mercenary, might have been revenge punishment!" + +"That's often seemed to me the most likely!" cried Marise. "Especially +_now_." + +"Especially now? Explain, please." + +"Now, when you've brought _that girl_ out here, close to this house. You +did bring her, didn't you? You asked me to be honest. Be honest +yourself!" + +"By my request she came." + +"You paid for her to come?" + +"Yes, I couldn't let her give up a good job in New York, even for +awhile, and travel so far on my business, at her own expense--could I?" + +"On your business?" + +"Yes. I told you once that Miss Marks was an old friend. We've known +each other for years. She used to live at Albuquerque. Cath and Bill, +whom you met, are her cousins--or rather, Cath is. Mothereen is +fond----" + +"Ah, now I'm _sure_ of something I only wondered about before!" + +"Will you tell me what that is?" + +"A note for Meesis Garth from the Hotel El Tovar," announced the voice +of the half-breed maid. + +"Bring it to me!" Marise ordered. + +The girl, instinctively aware that she'd interrupted a "scene," tripped +across the terrace with an apologetic air. Marise almost snatched an +envelope from a little silver tray and tore it open. Her strong young +eyes could just make out through the dusk a few lines of written words. + +"This is from Zélie Marks!" she exclaimed, looking up at Garth. "She +wants me to come over at once and see her at the hotel. She says she has +been ill, and that's the reason she's staying on there." + +"She tells the truth. She had appendicitis. They thought there'd have to +be an operation, but they cured her up--or nearly--without. Why does she +ask to see you?" + +"She says she'll explain everything when I get there." + +"Do you intend to go?" + +"Yes. I'd like to hear--her story." + +"All right--go. You shall have the car, of course. But there are a few +things I'd prefer to tell you myself first." + +"I'd rather hear everything from her." + +Garth gave a shrug. "Very well. As you please. But you and she both seem +to forget dinner-time. You'll be hungry if----" + +"I won't be hungry!" cried Marise. "I want to start now." + +"I'll see to it for you," said Garth, with that quiet, rather heavy air +which irritated Marise sometimes and always puzzled her. For that was +one of the things about him which upset her judgment of his character. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +ZÉLIE GETS EVEN + + +"Will you step into Miss Marks's sitting-room? She's expecting you," +Marise was greeted, arriving at the hotel. + +"A private sitting-room! And Jack Garth's money pays for it," she +thought dully. But of course it was nothing to her. At least, it would +have been nothing if, while keeping it secret, he was not bent on +driving away the man who loved her--Marise. Oh, and that reminded her of +an important thing! It had been on her lips to accuse him of giving +Zélie the jewels, but she had been interrupted, or had forgotten. Then +the note had come from the hotel.... She would have the truth out of +Zélie herself. + +The sitting-room was on the ground floor, and had a loggia all its own, +lit by a red-shaded electric lamp, like an illuminated poppy. Zélie was +there in a huge American rocking-chair, gazing Canyonward under the +moon, when Mrs. Garth was shown into the room. Instantly the girl jumped +up, and Marise saw her framed in the door. She looked pale, and thinner +than she had been in New York. But the change wasn't unbecoming. + +The conventional thing would have been for Zélie to say, "How good of +you to come! I hope you didn't mind my sending for you, as I've been +ill." Whereupon Marise would naturally have answered, "Not at all." + +But nothing of the kind happened. The two girls eyed each other like +fencers, or even like cats. Then Marise said, "You see, I've come." + +"Yes," replied Zélie, "I supposed you would, after what Lord Severance +told me." + +Marise was startled. "Lord Severance! _What_ did he tell you?" + +"That you suspected your husband and me of all sorts of unmentionable +things, and that you wouldn't be satisfied until you'd had it out with +me. Well--now you can have it out with me. Fire away, Mrs. Garth. I've +nothing to be ashamed of. It's all the other way round." + +"What do you mean?" gasped Marise. + +"Well, frankly, I mean that you should be ashamed of suspecting him. You +ought to know him better." + +"I said not one word to Lord Severance about suspecting my--Major +Garth," Marise broke out in self-defence. + +"Didn't you?" echoed Zélie. "Well, that's funny, since he sent up his +card and told me you were wild. He urged and urged, if I had any +friendship for Jack Garth, to write and get you here." + +"That's very strange," said Marise. "But I suppose--one must +suppose!--he meant well. Now I am here, if you have anything to tell me +you might as well tell it." + +"Does Jack know you've come?" asked Zélie quietly. + +"He does. We were talking about you when your note arrived. You see, +Lord Severance mentioned that you were at the hotel." + +"Then why did you want to talk with me? Surely you'd believe Jack? I +shouldn't think _anyone_ ever accused him of lying!" + +"_I_ never did! But I--well, when your note came I thought I'd rather +hear everything from you. It wouldn't have occurred to me otherwise." + +"You mean you wouldn't have proposed coming over here if I hadn't +written?" + +"I shouldn't even have thought of it." + +"Then it's a game of Lord Severance's we seem to be playing." + +"I don't see his object," puzzled Marise. + +"Neither do I," replied Zélie--"yet. But as you say--now you are here, +we might as well talk. Won't you sit down?" + +"No, thank you," said Marise. "I'd rather stand." + +"Well, if you don't mind, _I'll_ sit. I'm not very strong yet, as I told +you in my letter, that's why I'm still here." + +"Oh, please do sit down!" cried Marise, more gently. "In that case I +will sit, too." + +"In justice to Jack I ought to tell you the whole story of why I came +out," said Zélie. "He and I decided it would be best for you not to +know. At least, _I_ decided, because I'm a woman and realise how a woman +feels about such things. However, as he let you come here to see me, he +must have expected you to hear the truth. Goodness knows, it's simple +enough, and won't take long in the telling! The morning after you were +married he called early to see me, and asked if I'd do him a big favour. +Of course I said yes. The favour was, to start out West at once, buy +pretty things to decorate your room at Vision House, get the whole place +in apple-pie order, and engage servants from somewhere--no matter where, +and no matter what wages. Mothereen wasn't strong enough to have the +whole work thrown on her shoulders, though she'd have loved it. But when +I'd finished a lot of commissions at Kansas City, I stopped at +Albuquerque and told her about you." + +"I wonder what you told?" Marise laughed a little nervously. + +"What Jack would have wanted me to tell, not what you deserved." + +Mrs. John Garth stiffened. "Are you the judge of what I deserve?" + +"God help you if I were! All I know about you is, that you're the most +spoiled, conceited girl I ever saw, and that you're not capable of +appreciating Jack Garth--no, not _capable_!" + +"You don't know in the least what I'm capable of!" The cheeks of Marise +were burning now. They felt as if they had been slapped. "I never showed +my real self to you. Why should I?" + +"Why, indeed? But you showed me all your gladdest rags, and your jewels +and newspaper notices, and let me answer lots of your love-letters, +meaning to make the poor secretary envious." + +"What horrid thoughts you had of me! I never meant that." + +"Subconsciously, if not consciously, that's _just_ what you did mean." + +"I won't dispute with you, Miss Marks. But speaking of jewels--since +you're being so frank--tell me if Major Garth didn't make a present to +you of a rope of pearls, an emerald laurel wreath, a sapphire and +diamond pendant----" + +Zélie was strongly tempted to answer bluntly "Yes." If she did, and left +it at that, Marise would be furious. She would go back to Vision House +and quarrel with Jack, even if the two hadn't quarrelled irrevocably +already, and the divorce which might give Jack to her would come soon. +But no, she had vowed to herself that she would be loyal to Jack through +everything. She had vowed, too, that she would "get even" with Marise +Sorel some day--and now was the day when she could "bring off the +stunt," as she said to herself. But she wouldn't get even in a way to +hurt Jack. If possible, she'd do it in a way to help him. + +"He gave me those things to take out to Mothereen and ask her to keep +them for you, till you came," lied Zélie. And lying, she looked more +indignantly virtuous than when she had been telling the simple truth. + +Marise believed her. + +"Is there anything more you want to know?" inquired + +Miss Marks. "Because if you do, I can't think of much which would +especially concern or interest you, except that Mothereen--Mrs. +Mooney--came to the Grand Canyon with me and helped as much in the work +as she was strong enough to do. So you needn't imagine she told you any +fibs. If there were _reservations_, I'm responsible. She'd have blabbed +out everything if I hadn't warned her you wouldn't be pleased to hear +that I'd been Jack's chosen messenger. You didn't like me much, I said. +You and your mother thought I was rather forward and above my place. +You'd think so a heap more if you knew. Mothereen promised to hold her +tongue. It must have been a struggle for her. She's as ingenuous as a +child. So is Jack in some ways. He'd have told you all about me if I +hadn't made him see it wouldn't do." + +"You seem to have been awfully solicitous on my account," said Marise. + +"It was on Jack's account really," explained Zélie. + +"I didn't want his apple-cart to be upset--no matter what I thought of +the apples. I didn't care a hang for them personally." + +Marise laughed. "The apples were me." + +"That's it. Pretty, good-smelling apples, with pink cheeks and satin +skin. But at heart--r-o-t-t-e-n!" + +"Thanks!" choked Marise, and got up. "Thank you for _all_ your +frankness. I could return some of it, but you've been ill, and _I_ don't +like being rude. I must just say one thing, however, before I go. You've +given yourself away dreadfully." + +Zélie stumbled to her feet. "How?" + +"By showing me exactly what your feeling is for Major Garth." + +"I'm his pal from the beginning to the end." + +Marise ignored the evasion. "You needn't be afraid that I'll be cad +enough to go and tell him what I think about you. He probably knows your +feelings and returns them, but----" + +"He doesn't. Are you a _damn_ fool, or are you only pretending?" + +"I daresay I'm a damn fool," repeated Marise sweetly. "In any case, I'm +not pretending." + +"Then you're doubly a fool!" shrilled Zélie. "A damned fool not to know +how Jack feels for you, and a damneder one not to know enough to feel +right towards him. Jack's the salt of the earth. There's more courage +and good faith and everything noble and big in his little finger than in +your whole lovely body. So now you can go home. And put _that_ in your +pocket!" + +Marise went. She shut the door softly, so softly and considerately that +it hurt worse than a loud slam. + +"I did get even with her!" Zélie thought. And plumped down on the sofa +with a sob. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +WHEN SEVERANCE THREW DOWN THE KEY + + +Not far from the door of Zélie Marks's room another door stood open. +Marise would have whirled past it without noticing, had not her name +been called. + +She turned her head, with a slight start, and saw Severance. + +"Come here a moment, my dear one," he said. "I have to speak to you." + +Marise hesitated. Her brain was not clear. She felt dazed, as if Zélie +had boxed her ears, as she had boxed Tony's earlier. She longed for +sympathy. No one--not even Garth himself!--had ever been so horrid to +her before, as Zélie had. + +Severance took her hand and drew her gently over the threshold into a +private sitting-room much like Miss Marks's. Then, when she was safely +inside the room, he shut the door, locked it, and jerked out the key. + +"Tony!" cried Marise. She felt as if some scene in one of her plays had +come true. Except that--Tony wasn't the villain who locked the heroine +in. _Surely_ he wasn't the villain! + +"This isn't the right time for a joke," she said. + +"And this isn't a joke," said Severance. + +"Well, unlock the door at once, please, and let me out," she insisted. +"I must go----" + +"Where must you go?" he asked. + +"Where! Ho--back, of course." + +"To Garth--after what happened between us three at his house this +evening? It's impossible for you to go back to him, Marise. He can't +expect it himself. When you came away to-night--if he knew you came--he +must have known the whole thing was finished, the farce played out." + +The girl felt as if a chilly breeze blew over her. She did not answer +for a moment. She was wondering in an awed way if Tony were right. Was +that the reason Garth had let her go so easily, to answer Zélie's note +in person? But no. He had only just reminded her the moment before how +he'd never intended giving her up to Severance. Still--when she thought +of it--what _was_ there to go back for, unless she intended to stay +married to Garth--to be married to him as other women were married to +their husbands? + +She had never contemplated that, even at the times--and there had been +times--when she'd admired Garth, admired him with a secret thrill. +Besides, no matter how much Garth had wanted her, in the first throes of +his infatuation, he didn't want her now--for good. Oh, such an end to +the play wasn't to be dreamed of, from whichever side you looked at it! + +"If I go away anywhere from Vision House, it will be to my mother," she +said at last. + +"Yes, of course. That's where I'm going to take you. We'll go to-night. +There's a train we----" + +"I can't possibly go with you!" she cried. "Don't you see, to do that +would cause the very scandal we've all sacrificed so much to prevent?" + +"I do see," said Tony. "But you said yourself to-day that 'everything +had changed.' We don't need to be afraid of scandal any more. It can't +hurt us now. It will do us good. Marise, I've been thinking things over, +and I believe that the only way we can get that brute to free you is by +deliberately making a scandal. All the trouble comes from your throwing +yourself at the fellow's head in such a hurry. If you'd waited, OEnone +dying when she did would have made your marriage useless. You and I +would both have been free----" + +"We were both free before you decided you'd have to marry OEnone," +broke in Marise. + +"That was different. I was in debt and hadn't a penny to play with. I +couldn't live on you. Now my debts are paid, and though they've not left +me a very rich man, I've got something to go on with----" + +"You have, because Jack Garth won't take your money." + +"Oh, wouldn't he, if he could get it?" + +"No!" + +"Well, again, there'd be no question of money at present between him and +me if you'd waited, and hadn't tangled yourself up in this beastly knot +to spite me. Now I'll have to get you out of the tangle as best I can. +You can't do it yourself, and Garth will hang on to you for the same +motive you had--spite, if nothing more. Go with me to-night. Be brave. +_Make_ a scandal. Then for the sake of that mother of his--and for his +pride if he has any, if not, for the appearance of it--he'll free you." + +Marise was very pale. "A little while ago," she said, "you spoke of +Zélie Marks being here to give--an excuse for divorce." + +"Yes. That seems the likely thing. Garth probably arranged it when he +expected money from me, to make divorce worth his while. Now we've had a +row, more or less, and he knows that at best he can't get much. His cry +is 'all or nothing.' He won't use Miss Marks as a pretext." + +"I tell you he never intended to accept money!" insisted Marise. + +"That's a new opinion of yours, isn't it?" + +"I never _felt_ he would touch it. But I didn't know surely. Now I do." + +"I wonder how?" + +"I do--that's all." + +"Well, by Jove; I never expected to hear you taking Garth's part against +me!" Tony exploded. + +"I'm not doing that," Marise said. "We've all been horrid and detestable +in this business, you and I, and even poor Mums--for my sake----" + +"What about Garth? Is he on a higher plane?" + +"Yes, he _is_!" exclaimed the girl. "He loved me once. He wanted to +marry me then--just for love. How he felt afterwards--or how he feels +now--I don't know. But--he's not a _beast_." + +"And I am?" + +"Oh, I put myself and Mums in the same box with you. I'm saying nothing +of you I don't say of ourselves." + +"Well, so be it!" said Severance. "I'm a beast, if you like, and you're +the female of my kind. All the more reason why you belong to me. Nothing +shall separate us again. Even if we can't marry----" + +"Let me go out of this room!" the girl cried sharply. + +"No! Your _mother_ approved of my plan, I tell you, Marise. She saw it +was the only way, for me to take you----" + +"I don't believe it! There's not an unconventional drop of blood in +Mums' veins. If she wanted me to be 'taken' anywhere, it would be to +her. She would have come to this hotel, and received me. Then, perhaps, +I would have stayed--but not for you. I don't _love_ you, Tony! I've +discovered that. I wouldn't marry you if I could." + +"You're out of your senses!" he cried. "You may think what you say at +this minute, because you're angry. But your _heart's_ mine. I won't let +you go----" + +"If you don't, I'll scream," threatened Marise. "Open that door at once, +or I'll yell at the top of my lungs." + +"I don't think you will," said Severance. "You don't like scenes, except +on the stage. Besides, I don't care a damn if you do yell. It won't +change things in the end." + +The girl's answer was to lift her voice and shriek as only a trained +actress can shriek. + +Instantly, before she had reached her highest note, Garth stepped over +the low window-sill. + +"I was waiting for that," he said. "I knew you were here, Marise, so I +lurked on the loggia. Unlock that door, Severance." + +The other man was olive grey with rage and disappointment. It occurred +to Marise that he looked seasick. + +"Unlock the damned thing yourself!" he spat, and flung the key on the +floor. + +It landed near Garth's feet. But Garth did not stoop. + +"Pick up the key," he said quietly. + +"I'm damned if I will!" sputtered Severance. + +"Not so many damns, please," said Garth. "They bore me." He took a +Browning from his pocket and aimed it neatly at the centre of +Severance's forehead. "Better pick up the key," he added. + +Severance picked it up. + +"Now unlock the door." + +Severance unlocked it, and walked out into the hall. Then he slammed the +door after him. Voices were heard. + +"Somebody's come to inquire why somebody screamed," said Garth, +pocketing the weapon again. "If they knock here, it's all right. Mr. and +Mrs. Garth have a right to a _tête-à-tête_ anywhere. I'll say you +thought you saw a mouse. That'll settle their doubts forever." + +But nobody knocked. + +"Don't be afraid," Garth went on. "Even if you came in here because you +wanted to come, I shan't make a row. But somehow I've got a 'hunch' that +you didn't want to." + +"I didn't," said Marise. + +"He pulled you in?" + +"Yes. I didn't think much of it at first. But----" + +"Well, I don't believe he'll trouble you again. Not ever. I felt he +might make a fool of himself to-night, though. So I came over, in case I +should be needed. Now, what do you want to do--I mean, _really_ want? I +consider Severance wiped off the map--_your_ map. So if you wish to be +free of me, I'll make you so. While Severance was in the offing I'd have +stuck to you like a leech, because you're too good for him. That +Browning wasn't loaded. But I'd have killed the fellow sooner than give +you up to him. It's different now. I'll take you to Los Angeles, to your +mother at Bell Towers to-night if you like." + +Marise was silent. + +"You've only got to say," he prompted her. + +To his intense surprise and her own, Marise began to cry. Tears poured +down her cheeks. She flung herself on a sofa and sobbed. "I'm so--so +unhappy!" + +Garth's face grew slowly red as he looked at her. "I'm sorry for that," +he said. "Once I was willing you should be unhappy. I'm past that now. +But you needn't be unhappy long. You don't even have to spend another +night in Vision House. Your mother----" + +"You want me to go," gulped Marise. "You really love Zélie Marks----" + +"You're talking in your hat," he sharply cut her short. "You know I +don't love Zélie Marks. What Severance said about her and me to-day was +disgusting. She and I are friends. She's a good girl and a grand pal. I +wouldn't hurt her even for you. And I tell you this, Marise, now that I +know--for I do know!--that you won't marry that cad Severance, you can +divorce me. But it will have to be done decently. You can go to Reno and +live there for a few months with Mrs. Sorel. Then you can free yourself +on the grounds that our tempers are incompatible. But no woman's to be +lugged in, even a stranger. I won't stand for that. For the sake of +Mothereen and my Victoria Cross I won't be dragged in the dirt. I'll not +give you what the lawyers call 'cause.' So there you are. Now you know." + +But Marise still sobbed. "I don't--don't wish to drag anyone in the +dust!" she wailed. + +"I'm sure you don't," said Garth, in an impersonal tone, a tone of kind +encouragement. "You've changed quite a lot since New York, though the +time's been short. You can't measure these things by time! I _hoped_ +you'd change. You were an adorable girl, but I told you once that you +were spoiled and selfish, and you were--all of that. You weren't a +woman. Now you are. I counted a bit on the effect of Mothereen. And I +counted a whole lot on the Canyon. They're both worked their spells more +or less, I shouldn't wonder. But you haven't changed to _me_. Not that I +ever really dared expect that. But I sort of _hoped_--at first. I'm not +blaming you, though. I took the risk--and let you take it. Now for the +next thing." + +"Now for--the next thing!" repeated Marise, between sobs; and searched +wildly in her gold-mesh bag. "For Heaven's sake lend me a handkerchief," +she wept. + +Garth lent it, a linen one, not scented as Severance's handkerchief +would have been, but fresh and clean-smelling. + +"We're still in that cad's room," Garth said, looking round with a +frown. "But he won't bother us. And we'd better thrash things out, now +we're about it. We must decide where you're to go. You know, Marise, I'm +on long leave. I never quite made up my mind whether to go back to my +regiment, or chuck the army for good, and stay over here. I thought some +day I'd hear a clear call, one way or the other, while there was time to +decide. And I knew Mothereen wouldn't long be far off from me, whatever +I did. But now I leave it to you to settle the matter for me. I expect I +owe you that, for all my sulkiness. If you want to live over on this +side, I'll go back to England--my father's country. If you'd like to +take up your career there again, rather than you should risk running up +against me all the time, I'll resign my commission--as Severance and a +lot of fellows like him hoped they could make me do!--settle down in +Arizona and--forget the war." + +"Forget me, you mean!" said Marise. + +His tone changed, and he spoke in a lower voice. "I don't expect ever to +forget you, Marise." + +"But you'd like to!" + +"I'm not so sure of that, in spite of all." + +"You will be, when you marry Zélie Marks." + +"Zélie Marks again!" + +"Or somebody else." + +"I shall never marry, Marise. That's as certain as that I'm alive. I +haven't any love to give another woman after you. You had it every bit. +But that's not an interesting subject to you, is it? Can you make up +your mind to-night and answer my question? Shall it be England for you +and America for me, or--_vice versa_?" + +"You _liked_ the army, didn't you? You didn't want to give it up." + +"I wasn't going to be driven out by Severance and Co. I shouldn't mind +so much going of my own accord." + +"Wouldn't you like to stay in the Guards for some years anyhow, and reap +the reward of what you've done?--coming over here to Vision House now +and then on leave, till you're ready to rest and settle down for good?" + +"Sounds pretty ideal, as you put it. But I'll be content enough either +way. It's for you to decide for me, as things stand. But oh, by the by, +I forgot! I'm really rather a rich man, Marise. I've made my fortune +three times over, and I've got umpteen thousands more than I need for +myself or Mothereen. I want you to have alimony----" + +"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I'm rich too--quite rich, enough." + +"But I _wish_ you to take something of mine, don't you understand? And +money's the only thing I have that you could possibly care to have." + +Marise began to cry again, twice as hard as before. + +"There is--something else of yours I'd care to have," she choked, +"if--if it isn't too late." + +"It's never too late." + +"But you don't know what I mean." + +"No. Not yet----" + +"I mean--your _love_. You said--I'd killed it." + +Garth took one step from the middle of the little sitting-room to the +sofa, and sat down beside the girl. He crowded her as Severance had done +that afternoon, but she didn't move an inch. + +"I didn't say that!" He spoke the words in her hair--that silky hair +which had seemed too divine to touch. "I asked you how much you thought +it took to kill love. But nothing could kill mine for you. Nothing on +earth or in hell. And I _have_ been in hell, Marise." + +"Come to heaven with me, then," she whispered, and clasped his neck with +both her young arms. Her cheek, wet with tears, was pressed against his. + +"You--_mean_ it?" he stammered. + +"Yes--yes. I _love_ you! Because--you're so _queer_, you made me, +somehow. I know now I never really loved anyone but you. And I never +will if--you _care_!" + +"Care? I'm in heaven already." He framed her face in his hands and +kissed her on the lips, a long, long kiss that made up for everything. + +"In heaven?" she murmured. "So am I. But it will be better at Vision +House. _Dear_ Vision House. Dear _home_!" + +Garth sprang up, bringing her with him, his arm round her waist. + +"Let's go now!" he said. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Vision House, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. 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N. & A. M. Williamson. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's Vision House, by C. N. Williamson and A. M. Williamson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Vision House + +Author: C. N. Williamson + A. M. Williamson + +Release Date: January 11, 2011 [EBook #34919] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VISION HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1>VISION HOUSE</h1> + +<h2>By C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Author of</span> "<i>The Lion's Mouse</i>," "<i>The Second Latchkey</i>," +"<i>Everyman's Land</i>," etc.</h3> + + +<h3>A. L. BURT COMPANY<br /> +Publishers New York</h3> + +<h3>Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company</h3> + +<h3>COPYRIGHT, 1921,<br /> +BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</h3> + +<h3>PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>TO<br /> +THE GRAND CANYON<br /> +AND ARIZONA</h3> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. <span class="smcap">Enter Miss Sorel</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. <span class="smcap">Exit the Blighter</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. <span class="smcap">A Cabin Window</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. <span class="smcap">Reprisals—Et Cetera</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. <span class="smcap">Anonymous</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. <span class="smcap">On Sunday at Three</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. <span class="smcap">Samson Agonistes</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. <span class="smcap">What the Star Said</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. <span class="smcap">Something Out of Ancient Rome</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. <span class="smcap">The Thing She Could Not Explain</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. <span class="smcap">Every Man Has His Price</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. "<span class="smcap">Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too!</span>"</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. "<span class="smcap">Can You Keep a Secret?</span>"</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. <span class="smcap">Marise Puts on Black</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. <span class="smcap">The Church Door</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. <span class="smcap">For Better, For Worse</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. <span class="smcap">The Speaking-Tube</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. <span class="smcap">Au Revoir—Till Sometime!</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. <span class="smcap">Why the Bargain Was Off</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. <span class="smcap">The Bridal Suite</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. <span class="smcap">Keeping Up Appearances</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. <span class="smcap">A Shock and a Snub or Two</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. <span class="smcap">The Dream</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. <span class="smcap">According to Mums</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. "<span class="smcap">Some Day—Some Way—Somehow!</span>"</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. <span class="smcap">The End of the Journey</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. <span class="smcap">Second Fiddle</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. <span class="smcap">Mothereen</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. <span class="smcap">The White Dove</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. <span class="smcap">The Vigil Light</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI. <span class="smcap">The Album</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII. <span class="smcap">The Bereaved One</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII. <span class="smcap">The Visitors' Book</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV. <span class="smcap">The Terrace</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV. <span class="smcap">Straight Talk</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI. <span class="smcap">Stumbling in the Dark</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII. <span class="smcap">Zélie Gets Even</span></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII. <span class="smcap">When Severance Threw Down the Key</span></a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>VISION HOUSE</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>ENTER MISS SOREL</h3> + + +<p>It was the third day out from Liverpool on the way to New York, and +people were just beginning to take an interest in each other's names and +looks.</p> + +<p>The passenger list of the <i>Britannia</i> was posted up close to the lift on +B deck, but the weather had not encouraged curious groups to study and +inwardly digest its items. In fact, digestion of all sorts had been +difficult. To-day, however, the huge ship had ceased to step on and +stumble over monster waves, and had slipped into a sea of silken blue. +Bad sailors and lazy ones were on deck staring at their fellows as at +unearthly creatures who had dropped on board since the vessel sailed, +miraculously like manna from heaven. The news had flown round, as news +flies in an Eastern bazaar, that there were three names of conspicuous +interest on the hitherto neglected list, and that now was the moment for +"spotting" their owners.</p> + +<p>Two of these should be easy to find, for their steamer chairs, plainly +labelled, stood side by side on A deck, where everyone sat or was +supposed to sit. The sea dogs and dogesses who braved all weathers had +nosed out those labels, but had so far watched in vain for the chairs to +be occupied. They had observed, also, that corresponding places at the +captain's table were vacant. There were three chairs together on deck, +and in the dining-saloon, but the third did not count with the public. +It was that of a mere chaperon—The Girl's mother. She was not the third +of the Three Thrilling Passengers. That person happened to be a man, and +he had neither chair nor label. If he had eaten a meal outside his cabin +he had somehow passed unrecognised.</p> + +<p>The stewards, questioned, said that John Garth had not applied for a +seat at table. Yes, certainly, one had been assigned to him, next Mrs. +Sorel, she being in the place of honour on the right of the +<i>Britannia's</i> captain. In this position Garth would have faced Lord +Severance, and sat diagonally opposite Miss Sorel, who was on the +captain's left. But the favoured man had ignored his privilege. It was +understood that he preferred snatching vague sandwiches and glasses of +beer at odd hours in the smoking-room, or on deck; therefore it would be +hard to identify him. Meanwhile, however, celebrity seekers gathered +near those three chairs on the sunny port side of A deck.</p> + +<p>By ten o'clock the crowd had thickened; but it was not till close on +eleven that a tall figure in uniform, preceded by a steward with rugs, +sat down in the chair ticketed "Major the Earl of Severance."</p> + +<p>Many Americans were on board, homeward bound after months of Red Cross +and other war work, and they knew in their hearts, no doubt, that +titles, once valued by snobs, were absolutely out-of-date in this +newly-democratised world. Nevertheless, they threw glances at Lord +Severance. Their glances would not have been wasted on a mere every-day +male. Of course, their excuse might have been that they'd prefer +glancing at their own American Johnny Garth, who was as much a major as +Lord Severance, and, being a V.C. (the one and only American V.C.), +twice as much a man for them.</p> + +<p>But then Garth wasn't in sight, and Severance was. Besides, the chair +between Lord Severance's and Mrs. Sorel's was ticketed "Miss Marise +Sorel." Nobody could deny that Miss Sorel was worth flocking to gaze at, +had Severance not existed.</p> + +<p>Thousands, hundred of thousands, of men and women paid good money to +gaze at her in theatres. Here she could be seen free of charge. But was +she coming out? the deck pilgrims wondered. And Lord Severance had an +air of wondering, too. He held a book in his hand; but his eyes were +often on the nearest door.</p> + +<p>They were strikingly fine eyes, and Lord Severance was in appearance a +striking man. "Stunning" was an adjective used by some American +promenaders. They remarked, too, that he "wasn't a typical Englishman. +You'd think he was Spanish or something."</p> + +<p>He was not Spanish, but half of him was not English; the "something" was +Greek. His mother had been a Greek heiress and beauty, but her money and +looks had been lost before she died. Most valuable things were lost +after they had been in the Severance family for any length of time. The +beautiful Greek woman's handsome son had pale olive skin, a straight +nose, full red lips under a miniature moustache like two inked +finger-prints, raven hair sleekly brushed straight back from his square +forehead, and immense eyes of unfathomable blackness.</p> + +<p>He was going to "the States" on some military mission, no one knew quite +what, and so, although the war had finished months ago, he was still in +uniform, with the "brass hat" of a staff officer, and the gorgeous +grey-lavender overcoat of the Guards. It seemed as if nobody could help +admiring him, and nobody did help it, except a great, hulking chap in +abominable clothes, with a khaki-coloured handkerchief round his neck +instead of a collar. This beast—in a sat-on-looking cap, enough to +disgrace a commercial traveller, sleeves as much too short for his +red-brown wrists as were the trousers for his strapping ankles—strode +to and fro along the deck as if for a wager. It was almost as if he +flaunted himself in defiance of someone or something. Yet he didn't +appear self-conscious. He had in his yellow-grey eyes that +bored-with-humanity look of a lion in a zoo, who gazes past crowds to +the one vision he desires—the desert. Only, now and then as he passed +the chair of Lord Severance, his look came back for an instant from the +desert, or waste of waves, to shoot scorn at a pair of well-shod feet +crossed on a black fur rug. This would hardly indicate any emotion +higher than jealousy, it seemed, as the boots of Major Lord Severance +were perfect, and his own were vile.</p> + +<p>When Severance had restlessly occupied his chair for fifteen minutes he +suddenly sprang up. A maid, unmistakably French, was squeezing a load of +rugs through a doorway. Severance ignored the offered service of a deck +steward, as if the rugs were too sacred for human hands to touch. With a +kind smile he himself helped the woman in black to spread the soft, +furry folds over the two neighbouring chairs.</p> + +<p>"It's like a scene on the stage in a play written for her," said one +American Red Cross nurse to another. "The hero of the piece and the maid +working up the woman star's entrance."</p> + +<p>"Which is he, more like hero or villain?" the second nurse reflected +aloud. "If I wrote him into a play, he'd be the villain—that dark type +with red lips and a little black moustache. But the Sorel's a star all +right. We ought to tune up and whistle a bar of entrance music! See how +the French maid puts the brown rug on one chair and the blue rugs on the +other. What'll you bet Sorel and her mother aren't dressed one in blue +and one in brown? Gee! The biggest blue rug's lined with chinchilla. Can +you beat it?"</p> + +<p>Neither nurse could beat it, but the approaching vision could. She beat +it with a long cloak of even more silvery chinchilla.</p> + +<p>At the door she stood aside for an older, shorter, plumper woman to +pass, she herself being very tall and exquisitely slender. She did not +seem to look at anyone, or be aware that anyone looked at her. +Nevertheless, all eyes were focussed upon the standing figure in the +chinchilla coat and blue toque while the lady in brown and sables was +being seated. Even Lord Severance had eyes only for the girl as he lent +his hands to her maid to tuck in the brown rugs. But the girl's smile +was for her mother, and it was not till Mrs. Sorel was settled that she +moved. A charming little scene of daughterly devotion, worthy a +paragraph if there were a journalist in sight!</p> + +<p>Just as Severance, with an air of absorption, wrapped Miss Sorel's grey +suède shoes in her chinchilla-lined rug, the giant in the ghastly +clothes hurled himself past. The girl did not lift her lashes, so famous +for their length and curl. She was hanging a gold-mesh bag on the arm of +her chair. You would say that she had not noticed the fellow. But the +fellow had noticed her.</p> + +<p>The distant-desert look died. In his eyes a flame lit, and flashed at +the girl in the chair. It was a light that literally spoke. It said +"God! You're a beauty." Then he flung one of his glances at Severance, +scornful or jealous as before. To do this he had not actually paused, +yet it was as if something had happened. Whatever the thing was, +Severance resented it in hot silence; and, in turn, his eyes did deadly +work. They stabbed the broad back of the badly-cut, badly-fitting coat +as its wearer forged away, hands deep in pockets.</p> + +<p>Miss Sorel sat between her mother and Lord Severance. She glanced at the +former as if to begin a conversation, but Mrs. Sorel had opened her +lorgnettes and a novel. The girl knew the signal: "Don't talk to me. +Talk to him." But she was lazy in obeying. She felt so sure of +Severance, that she needn't try to hold him by any tricks. She might now +treat him as she chose. Not that she had ever let him see that she was +anxious to please. But there <i>had</i> been an anxious time. The girl didn't +want to talk, so she sat deliciously still, deliciously happy. She was +thinking. The restful peace of the sea after stormy days made her think +of herself.</p> + +<p>She often thought of herself; more, indeed, than of any other subject, +because, like most beautiful young actresses, she had been encouraged to +form the habit. But this was special—extra special.</p> + +<p>The girl was so content with her world that she shut herself in with it +by shutting her eyes. Then she faintly smiled in order that (just in +case they happened to look) people shouldn't suppose she was seasick.</p> + +<p>How odd that it should be her mother's lorgnettes which had reminded her +suddenly of her own good luck—the lorgnettes, and the delicate ringed +fingers grasping the tortoiseshell handle!</p> + +<p>Once that little hand had not been so white. There had been no leisure +for manicuring nails, and polishing them to the sheen of pink coral. +There had been no rings—no lorgnettes monogramed with rose diamonds. +That was before the "Marise" days; before clever Mums had linked +together in the French way her daughter's name of Mary Louise (after +father and mother) and begun training the girl into superlative beauty +and grace for the stage. Oh yes, Marise owed a lot to ambitious little +Mums! But at last she had been able to make generous payment for all the +trouble, all the sacrifices. She, Marise, had bought the lorgnettes, and +the sables, and the antique rings which Mums told everyone were +heirlooms in the Sorel family, bequeathed to a great-grandfather of +"poor dear Louis by a Countess Sorel beheaded in the Revolution." She, +Marise, had easily earned money for all the other lovely things they +both possessed.</p> + +<p>It was like a dream to remember how, three years ago, she had been just +a pretty "actorine" among other "actorines" in New York, struggling for +a chance to "show what she could really do," her heart jumping like a +fish at the sight of a Big Manager. Why, hadn't she literally squeaked +with joy when she got a contract for "fifty per"? And hadn't she soon +after nearly fallen dead when Dunstan Belloc let her understudy Elsa +Fortescue in "The Spring Song"?</p> + +<p>Of course, even at that time, she and Mums had both been sure she was +born to play "Dolores," and that Elsa <i>wasn't</i>. Belloc hadn't been so +sure. He had given her the part only because she looked irresistible +when she begged for it. Oh, and perhaps a little because her dead +father, Louis Sorel, had been an old friend of his. Marise had had to +"make good," and she had made good.</p> + +<p>Not that the girl had wished harm to Elsa Fortescue. But Elsa was a "Has +Been," whereas "Dolores" was supposed to be in the springtime of youth, +and possessed of an annihilating beauty—the beauty which draws men as +the moon draws the sea. Marise didn't think it conceited to face facts, +and admit that this description fitted her like a glove. These gifts had +brought her sensational success in a single night, whereas the piece had +simply "flivvered" with Elsa as star. The critics had been cold if not +cruel, and grief mixed with <i>grippe</i> laid Elsa low. Then little Marise +Sorel (only figuratively "little," she being one of those willowy, +long-limbed nymphs who are the models and manikins of the moment), +"little Marise," in whom author and manager felt scant faith, had saved +the play and made herself. Both had boomed for a wonderful year, and at +the end of that time England had called for "Dolores" and "The Song."</p> + +<p>Oh, and those two years in London that followed! Never could another +girl have known anything like them since the days of the great +professional beauties whom crowds had mobbed in Hyde Park. Papers and +people had praised Miss Sorel's looks, her voice, and her talent. It was +thought quite amazing that a girl so lovely should take the trouble to +act well, but Marise explained to interviewers that she couldn't help +acting. It was in her blood to act—her father's blood. She didn't add +that ambition was in her mother's blood, and that Mums was doing all she +could to hand it on to the next generation. It wasn't necessary to +mention ambition to the public. Some people considered ambition more a +vice than a virtue. But Marise, who knew what poor Mums's past had been, +understood the passion and even felt the thrill of it. Not only had she +had the "time of her life" in those two years, but she had met people +whom she couldn't have approached before her blossoming as "Dolores" in +"The Spring Song." As "Dolores" she had been spoiled, fêted, adored; and +she had become rich.</p> + +<p>Now, here she was on the way back to dear New York to revive the play, +which Belloc, as manager, and Sheridan, as author, expected to surpass +its first success. At present Miss Sorel had the valued cachet of a +London triumph added to her charms. She was more <i>chic</i>, she could act +and sing better, than before. Isadora Duncan had coached her for the +dance in the last scene, as an act of generous friendship, and this had +given "The Song" a new fillip in London. It would be the same in New +York.</p> + +<p>As if this were not enough to satisfy an older "star" than she, there +was the wonderful way in which the affair of Tony Severance had +developed. He had strained every nerve to sail with her on the +<i>Britannia</i>. Heaven alone knew how he'd obtained or invented the +"mission" which had made his plan possible. It was entirely for her +sake, and everyone was coupling their names—in a nice, proper way, of +course. She was that kind of girl. And Mums was that kind of mother. +Even before Severance had come into the title, he had been splendidly +worth while on account of his looks, his position, and his "set," but +now it seemed to Marise that every unmarried woman in England and +America must be envying her.</p> + +<p>As she sipped the honey of these thoughts, the girl felt that Severance +was staring at her eyelashes, and willing her to lift them. But she +would not, just yet. She went on with her thinking. She asked herself if +her feeling for him were love? Of course, it wasn't the "Dolores" sort +of love for "David Hardcastle," but love like that was safer on the +stage than off. Marise admired Tony, and was very proud of her conquest, +though she would admit that to no one except Mums. She had been horribly +afraid, humiliatingly afraid for a few days, that he might change his +mind if not his heart, when the earldom fell into his hands like a +prize-package. If she'd not been sure before that Tony was the one man +for her, she was frantically sure after the great surprise, when he was +safely on board the <i>Britannia</i>. How pleased the cats would have been if +she'd lost him—the cats who pretended to think, in the days before he +was Lord Severance, that the honesty of his intentions depended upon her +money.</p> + +<p>They would see now—hateful, jealous things! For, as the Earl of +Severance, though not rich, Tony would be no longer poor, and he had +proved by sailing with her that life without Marise Sorel was worthless +to him.</p> + +<p>The cats would be sorry when she was the Countess of Severance, for +every nasty word they'd said. She would forgive, but she would never be +nice to them, of course. She would ask the creatures only to big, dull +parties, just to let them see what a <i>grande dame</i> little Marise had +become. And even if she weren't certain that she'd rather be a Countess +than a stage star, Mums was certain for her—poor Mums, who had always +yearned to be at the top! And it would really be nice to "belong" among +the great people who had played with her for a while and made her their +pet.</p> + +<p>Marise opened her eyes. She did not, however, turn them to Severance. +She gazed at the one ring which adorned her left hand. She never wore +more than one ring at a time. This, and having all her jewels match each +other, her dress and her mood, was a fad of hers. Céline helped her +carry it out. But if Severance gave her a diamond, that would match +nothing, and spoil the scheme.</p> + +<p>"You have the longest lashes of any woman in the world," he remarked.</p> + +<p>"One would think you'd seen them all—all the women and all the +eyelashes!" She looked at him at last, and her soft, smoke-blue eyes +were the colour of her sapphire brooch and chain.</p> + +<p>"I've seen my share of fair ladies."</p> + +<p>"So I've heard."</p> + +<p>"You've probably heard a good deal that isn't true." Severance glanced +at Mrs. Sorel, or at what he could see of her, which was mostly book, +lorgnettes, and hand. She seemed absorbed. He leaned towards Marise.</p> + +<p>"The last three days have been a hundred years long," he murmured.</p> + +<p>"Why? Have you been seasick, poor boy?"</p> + +<p>"No!" (This was a slight deviation from the truth.) "I've been beastly +dull without you."</p> + +<p>"If you're such a good sailor, couldn't you walk, and read, and——"</p> + +<p>"I couldn't be bothered doing anything intelligent. I moped in my +cabin." ("Moped" was one word for what he had done.) "I——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, here comes Samson again!" Marise broke in. "Isn't that absolutely +the name for him? It jumped into my head when he passed before and gave +me that wild sort of look—did you notice?"</p> + +<p>"I did," said Severance drily. "I thought you didn't. Your eyes were +apparently glued to your gold bag."</p> + +<p>"What's the good of being an actress if you can't see two things at +once, especially if one of them's the biggest thing on the ship? Nobody +could help noticing that—any more than if Mont Blanc suddenly waltzed +down stage from off the back drop."</p> + +<p>"Waltzed? 'Galumped' is the word in this case."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you think so?" Marise appealed. "He walks like a man used to +wide, free spaces."</p> + +<p>"Like a farmer, you mean. To my mind, that's his part: Hodge—not +Samson."</p> + +<p>"I've forgotten what Samson was, I'm ashamed to say, before he played +opposite Delilah," confessed Marise. "I suppose he was a warrior—most +men were in those days—as now. This might be one—if it weren't for the +clothes. They certainly are the limit! But do you know, he could be very +distinguished-looking, even handsome, decently turned out?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't know it, my child." Severance beat down his irritation. +"The only way I can picture that ugly blighter being decently 'turned +out,' is out of a respectable club."</p> + +<p>"You talk as if you had a grudge against my provincial Samson," laughed +Marise, whose blue eyes had followed the "blighter" along the deck to +the point of disappearance.</p> + +<p>"I don't want to talk about him at all," protested Severance. "I want to +talk about you."</p> + +<p>"We're always talking about me!" smiled Marise, who was honestly not +aware how she enjoyed talking about herself, or how soon she tired of +most other subjects. "If you won't talk of one man, let's talk of +another! For instance, have you seen our V.C. passenger?"</p> + +<p>Severance flushed slightly. "Didn't I tell you, angel girl, that I've +been in my cabin the whole time?"</p> + +<p>"You didn't say the 'whole' time. And anyhow, there's such a crowd on +board, they might have stuck a fellow-soldier in with you at the last +moment. Didn't they warn you that they couldn't promise a cabin to +yourself? Naturally they'd have chosen a V.C. as the least insupportable +person."</p> + +<p>"Several V.C.'s I've met have been most insupportable persons," grumbled +Severance.</p> + +<p>Something in his tone made the girl suddenly face him with wide-open +eyes. She saw the dusky stain of red under the olive skin, and the +drawing down of the black brows. "Why, Tony, how stupid of me not to +remember before!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>There! It had come—the thing that was bound to come sooner or later. +Severance, rawly sensitive on this subject which the girl refused to +drop, had wanted it to be later.</p> + +<p>For the first time he thought that Marise Sorel was more obstinate than +a beautiful young woman ought to be. In a man he would call such +persistence mulish.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>EXIT THE BLIGHTER</h3> + + +<p>"Stupid not to remember what?" Severance still temporised, though he +knew the answer.</p> + +<p>"Not to remember that man named Garth, in your regiment, who was +promoted from a private to be an officer, and won the V.C. I think it +was Mums who asked you about him one day, when she'd read something in +the <i>Daily Mail</i>, and you said he was a cad. Is this by any chance the +same Garth?"</p> + +<p>"By evil chance, it is."</p> + +<p>Marise was interested. She was dramatic, and liked coincidences. Mrs. +Sorel was interested too, with that part of her mind—the principal +part—which was not reading Wells's <i>Joan and Peter</i>. It was quite easy, +for two reasons, to unhook her attention from the book. One reason was +that as a chaperon she was reading by discretion, not inclination. The +other reason was, if she had to read at all, she would secretly have +preferred a "smart society" novel. But when she read in public she +always selected a book which could be talked about intellectually.</p> + +<p>She knew how strong this feeling of Lord Severance against the +regimental hero had been, and she wished that Marise would show a little +tact, and not vex him. He had not proposed yet!</p> + +<p>But Marise went on. "How quaint that your Major Garth should be on board +our ship!"</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, don't call him my Major Garth, dear girl! I loathe +the brute."</p> + +<p>"But why, old thing? You might tell me why."</p> + +<p>"I did, at the time your mother mentioned him."</p> + +<p>"If you did, I've forgotten. Do tell me again. It sounds exciting."</p> + +<p>Mary Sorel thought that intervention would now be more useful than +detachment.</p> + +<p>"You two are talking so loudly, I can't read!" she sweetly reproved the +pair. "I caught the name of Garth, and the whole conversation we had +that day, about him, came back to me. We were lunching with Lord +Severance at the Carlton, and I showed him a paragraph I'd clipped from +the <i>Daily Mail</i>. I thought as it was about his regiment he might be +interested if he hadn't seen it. It was headed 'Romantic Career of a +Hero. British-born American Wins the Victoria Cross.' But he wasn't +interested, because he explained that the man was a blot on the Brigade; +very common, not a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it comes back to me, too," said Marise. "But if he was a hero——"</p> + +<p>"That's all newspaper tosh!" cut in Severance. "They must have headings! +It's luck more than heroism that gets a chap the Victoria Cross. +Soldiers all know that. Otherwise——"</p> + +<p>His lips said no more. Only his eyes were eloquent. The beautiful +lavender-grey overcoat hid no ribbon-symbols of decorations on his +breast. But how can a staff officer find the chance his soul yearns for, +to show his mettle—except the metal on his expensive "brass hat"?</p> + +<p>"Of course!" Mrs. Sorel breathed sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"Garth was all right as a private, I dare say," Severance grudged. "Even +as an officer he might have passed in some regiments. But not in the +Guards. He ought never to have been let come in. And he ought certainly +not to have stayed in, knowing how we felt. If he'd had any proper +pride, he wouldn't have stopped a day."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it was pride made him stick," suggested Marise, led on somehow +she hardly knew why—to defend the culprit.</p> + +<p>"'Proper' pride was my word," Severance reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Extraordinary that an American should be serving with the Guards, in +the first place!" Mary Sorel flung herself into the breach, hoping to +stop the argument. Arguments made her anxious. She thought that they led +to quarrels. And not for anything on earth would she have Marise quarrel +with Severance, the only earl who had ever shown symptoms of proposing. +It had been well enough for the girl to pique him when he was a handsome +young man about town, whose good position was counterbalanced by the +star's financial and face value. But since six weeks Severance had +become a great catch. Other girls were digging bait in case the fish +should wriggle, or be coaxed, off Marise Sorel's hook.</p> + +<p>"The fellow's luck again!" growled Severance. "I don't know what his job +was in his own country. I don't interest myself in the private life of +the lower classes. All I know is, he wasn't a soldier; but he had some +bee in his bonnet about a future war, and a theory that there'd be +trench fighting on a big scale. He contrived to invent and patent a +motor entrenching tool, supposed to act fifty times quicker than +anything else ever seen. Then he proceeded to experiment on his +back-woods farm, or his wild west ranch, or whatever it was. Washington +wasn't 'taking any,' however (isn't that what you say in the States?), +so Garth decided to try it on the British bulldog. Where his big stroke +of luck came in was meeting our old C.O. on board ship crossing to +England. The Colonel had been in New York with his American wife. He +probably heard the blighter brag of his invention, and that would catch +him as toasted cheese in a trap catches a hungry rat. You see, the old +boy always had a craze of his own about trench warfare, and I believe he +used to bore the W.O. stiff, roaring for some such machine as this chap +Garth invented. Naturally, Pobbles (that's what we call the C.O. behind +his back)—Lord Pobblebrook, you know—took the man up. Not socially, of +course. Garth's about on a social level with Lady Pobblebrook's +foot-man, I should think. But he got the W.O. to look at the trench +tool, and—as if that wasn't luck enough for the bounder!—the war broke +out. The W.O. bought Garth's invention, as you saw in the <i>Mail</i>, and +paid about tuppence for it, I suppose. He had a fancy to enlist in the +British Army—feared the U.S.A. would be a bit late coming in, perhaps. +I never heard of any American dropping into the Guards before, even as a +Tommy, but it must have been easy enough with a push from Pobbles, +especially as the chap's people had been English, I believe. If it +hadn't been for Pobbles, Garth would certainly not have got a +commission. Anyhow not with us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you Guardsmen think you're gods!" the girl teased him.</p> + +<p>"Not gallery gods, in any case," Severance caught her up. "That's why we +don't want that sort in our mess and clubs. Most regiments have had to +put up with a mixture of these 'temporary gentlemen,' but not Ours. +Besides, 'temporary' and 'permanent' are different words. The +'temporary' kind can't be permanent, don't you see? For their own sakes, +they ought to step down and out when they cease to be useful, because +they never can be ornamental. We of the Brigade have a good deal to live +up to, you must admit. I assure you, I'm not the only one who hasn't +exactly encouraged Garth to wear out his welcome."</p> + +<p>"How about the Colonel?" Marise inquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Pobbles. He doesn't count in this scrap. He's practically never in +the mess, so the bad manners and bad boots of a cad don't interfere with +his digestion. Besides, he was responsible for landing us with the +fellow. I don't suppose he ever dreamed for a moment that a man of that +type would dare—or wish—to stay on as an officer of the regiment after +the war. But there it is! To save his own face the C.O. could hardly +give Garth the cold shoulder. Pobbles whitewashed himself by extolling +the swine as a soldier, and quoting such stuff as 'hearts are more than +coronets,' and so on."</p> + +<p>"Aren't they?" murmured Marise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course, in the way you mean. But not in the mess of a Guards +regiment."</p> + +<p>"I see," said the girl, with a blue twinkle beneath the admired lashes. +For some reason it amused her to wave a red flag, and play with the +lordly Severance as with a baited bull, under her mother's cautioning +glances. It was just a mood. Marise wasn't even sure that she did not +agree with Tony; and she was certain that Mums agreed. No lady possessed +of ancestral jewels, handed down from beheaded aristocrats, could afford +to hide the smallest coronet under the biggest bushel of hearts, in a +mess, or a drawing-room, or anywhere! Poor Mums, she was being baited, +too! But it was rather fun. And it could do no harm, since Marise +counted Tony her own forever.</p> + +<p>"So all of you younger officers have been doing your best to squeeze my +poor countryman out?" she ventured on.</p> + +<p>"Not because he's a countryman of yours. You must understand that! +Because he's impossible. And for the honour of the regiment. I'm sorry +to say, though, that we weren't unanimous in the matter. There have been +two or three—er—not rows, but something in that line, a few men +inclining to let Garth 'dree his own weird,' and learn for himself that +he's a square peg in a round hole. But Billy Ravenswood and Cecil de +Marchand and I took a firm stand."</p> + +<p>"I can see you taking it!" giggled Marise. "You took the firm stand on +one foot only, and kicked with the other! When you got tired of the +exercise, and had to sit down, you sat on Major Garth, V.C.—sat hard!"</p> + +<p>Severance laughed a little too, her giggle was so contagious. Besides, +at last, she did seem to be entering into the spirit of the game. +"Something of the sort," he admitted, not without pride in remembered +achievements. "The lot of an intruder among us isn't a happy one."</p> + +<p>"I should think not, if the rest are like you," said Marise. "I've seen +you perfectly horrid to quite inoffensive people you didn't happen to +approve of."</p> + +<p>"The person you force me to discuss, dear child, is the opposite of +inoffensive," amended Severance. "Can't we drop him?"</p> + +<p>"You seem to have done so successfully already," said she. "As he's on +this ship, homeward bound, the regiment is rid of him, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure. In fact, I'm not at all sure. He's in mufti, +certainly—to insult the good old word! But I understand he still +refuses to confess he's beaten, and is only on long leave."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he's in mufti! But you'll point him out, if he comes on deck, won't +you, boy? After all this talk, I pine to see what he's like. If he +passes by——"</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven, he has passed by. He's gone inside, and we're rid of him +for the moment."</p> + +<p>"Tony, you don't mean—you can't!"</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Samson?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. Didn't you realise that? Now perhaps you'll understand why we +don't want this particular Samson pulling down the pillars of our +temples."</p> + +<p>"He may have heard what we said! He was walking back and forth part of +the time as we talked."</p> + +<p>"Who cares if he did hear? It would do him good—be a douche to cool his +conceit."</p> + +<p>At that instant the back of Severance's head was coldly douched. +Something popped: something spurted. A jet of water sprayed over him, +fizzing with such force that it blew his gold-laced Guards' cap over his +eyes.</p> + +<p>Marise and her mother were petrified. They could only gasp.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A CABIN WINDOW</h3> + + +<p>After the first dazed instant, the girl had a wild inclination to laugh. +She suppressed it with the explosive struggle of suppressing a sneeze. +Poor, dear Tony! It would be cruel to make fun of him, more cruel than +if the top of his head had been blown off! For him—especially at this +moment of his high boasting—it was tragic to be made ridiculous. But it +was funny—frightfully funny—to see his expression of stunned rage at +the accident, as he dried his face and hair with a faintly fragrant, +monogramed handkerchief, and wiped something fizzing out of his eyes.</p> + +<p>Of course it—whatever it was—must have been an accident. Yet it was +odd, or perhaps merely fortunate, that all the liquid had spurted over +Severance, not a drop spattering the girl's blue toque. That thought +darted through the mind of Marise, and prompted a quick turn of the +head. At the open stateroom window behind the deck chairs stood someone +whose face she could not see. In fact, the presence of this person was +indicated only by a ginger-beer bottle still pointing, pistol-like, at +Lord Severance's back. The bottle was almost empty, its contents having +been discharged in one rush, and a mere inoffensive froth now dribbled +over the window-sill. This vision told at a glance what had occurred. +The glass ball inside the mouth of the bottle had been pushed with too +great violence. But why, why, had the experiment been made at the +window? Was it the act of a stupid steward, or——</p> + +<p>An answer to the question flashed into the girl's brain, and again it +was all she could do to control a shriek of laughter. (She had an +inconvenient sense of humour, inherited from Louis Sorel, and earnestly +discouraged by her mother.) What if—but no! The creature wouldn't dare. +Or would he?</p> + +<p>"Sorry!" said a voice. "Accident, I assure you. Hope the lady wasn't +touched."</p> + +<p>With this, Marise knew that the creature had dared. Though she had never +heard the "blighter" speak, she was as certain of his identity as of her +own. That, then, was his stateroom window. He had disappeared from the +deck intending to do the thing, and he had done it. From his own point +of view he had done it with deadly skill, and she was sure he knew +without asking that "the lady" had not been "touched." Of course, he had +heard what Severance said, and this was his revenge for past and present +insults. It was, no doubt, the deed of a cad, or a mischievous +schoolboy, but arriving on top of Severance's last words, thus douching +the doucher, it was so neat that it hit the girl's sense of drama as the +beer had hit the "brass hat."</p> + +<p>She wanted to say, "No, I wasn't touched, thank you." But Severance +would never forgive her for bandying words with the bounder. She +expected Tony to speak—to say something, if only a "Damn you!" which +would have been almost excusable even in the presence of ladies. But to +her surprise he left the disguised defiance unanswered.</p> + +<p>"Disgusting!" he exclaimed impersonally. "Creatures like that ought to +be caged. I'm afraid I must retire for repairs. But I'll be back in a +few minutes. You won't go away, will you?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," Mary Sorel assured him. "What a shocking shame. Poor Lord +Severance! But how much worse if it had been ale or stout! Think of the +horrid odour—and the stains on your beautiful coat!"</p> + +<p>"It would have been ale or stout if the ship wasn't 'dry' on account of +a few returning soldiers!" said Severance with extreme bitterness, as he +got up. "I wonder it wasn't ink. Only ink doesn't spurt."</p> + +<p>He crushed his wet cap over his wet hair, and went off, mumbling like +distant thunder. Behind the chairs, the beer-bottle window slid shut, +but Marise fancied she heard through the thick stained glass a wild +chortle of joy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel closed her book, with the lorgnettes to mark her page, and +leaned across Tony's empty chair.</p> + +<p>"Marise, you laughed!" she reproved her daughter. "How could you?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't, I only boo-higgled in my throat."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd be more careful," cautioned the elder woman. "If you're +not, take it from me, you may be sorry yet. Tony is worried about +something. I noticed it the moment we came on board. You know what an +instinct I have! I feel as if—but I mustn't tell you now. He may get to +his stateroom and hear us."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think he could hear us from his stateroom?" asked +Marise. "Do you know where it is?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," replied the other. "I was with him when he chose the place +for our chairs. You were in our cabin showing Céline what to unpack. He +pointed out his window, and—but my goodness!"</p> + +<p>A gasp stopped her words. Marise followed the direction of the puzzled +or startled brown eyes. They stared at the window just closed, from +whose sill ginger-beer continued to drip.</p> + +<p>"Is that his room?" breathed the girl.</p> + +<p>"I thought that was the window, but I must be mistaken, of course. +Probably it's the next one—on my side or yours."</p> + +<p>Marise let the question drop. She wasn't pining to confide the contents +of her mind. Besides, her conjectures were too vague for words. In +striving to frame them she would surely laugh, and Mums would think her +a callous wretch.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel, anxious to be overheard saying the right thing, if she were +overheard at all, began to chat about friends who had sent flowers or +telegrams on board. Each name she mentioned had a "handle." She liked +Lord Severance to be reminded casually now and then that her girl had +titled admirers outside the circle he had brought round them. But Marise +was not listening. She was putting two and two together.</p> + +<p>When she suggested that the V.C. had been billeted in Tony's cabin, Tony +had said neither "yes" nor "no," now she came to think of it. He had +caught at another branch of the subject which she elected to pursue. He +hadn't wanted her to know that the loathed Major Garth was his +room-mate. Why? Oh, he would feel it humiliating to his <i>amour propre</i>. +He had wished to buy a cabin for himself alone, and had been told that +it was too late: "the company would do their best, but could not +promise." Then, fate and the company's good intentions had picked out +the one companion he would least have chosen.</p> + +<p>It was almost too queer, and too bad, to be true; yet the more she +thought of it the truer it seemed. Her mother's impression about the +window—and the lack of surprise Severance had shown after the +"accident." Once recovered from the shock, he wore an air of having got +what might have been expected. He hadn't even looked over his wet +shoulder to glare at the sniper. Oh, Marise saw it all now! Tony had +made his last remarks for the benefit of the <i>bête noire</i>, believing he +had gone to the mutual cabin, but not dreaming how far a bounder, in +bounding, might bound for revenge. She would have given a good deal to +know whether Severance had now joined his room-mate in their quarters, +and if so, what was going on.</p> + +<p>In a hand-to-hand fight Severance would be apt to get second best with +Samson, unless skill should master strength. Was that why he had flung +back no challenge? But, of course, it couldn't be; Tony was not a +coward. He had merely kept his temper to save a scene. Nevertheless, she +wished that Garth hadn't shut the window!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>REPRISALS—ET CETERA</h3> + + +<p>Jorn Garth considered himself completely justified in shooting Severance +with a pint of iced ginger-beer, and even had his conscience squirmed he +would have committed the act. Knowing that Severance thought of, and +denounced, him as "a bounder," he didn't see why, when worst came to +worst, he shouldn't live up to the reputation.</p> + +<p>Worst had come to worst on board the <i>Britannia</i>. Things had been bad +enough before, but the climax was reached when the two men found +themselves caged in the same room, neither one willing to play lamb to +the other's lion. Garth hated the proximity as hotly as Severance hated +it; but there was no cabin of any class with a free berth, save one +occupied by a coloured colonel in charge of negro troops going home. +Garth had a deep respect for the dark soldiers, who had distinguished +themselves in the war; but men of white and men of black skin were not +quartered together; and he had never boiled to throttle Severance as he +boiled at the cool proposal that he should join Colonel Dookey.</p> + +<p>"Join him yourself," he said.</p> + +<p>"I'm not an American," shrugged Severance.</p> + +<p>"That's why you and he would get along better than you and me, or he and +me," retorted Garth, careless of grammar.</p> + +<p>"I shall remain where I am," Severance gave his ultimatum.</p> + +<p>"Same here. You ought to be thankful your earlship has got the lower +berth."</p> + +<p>This statement required no answer; and the conversation lapsed.</p> + +<p>Garth had not taken his allotted seat at the Captain's table, because he +understood that ladies would be there, friends of Lord Severance. He +could not trust his temper if it were strained by continued public +snubbing in the presence of women. Besides, secretly shy of the +dangerous sex, the man who had won the V.C. shrank like a coward from +the prospect of being "turned down" by aristocratic females. He +preferred to snatch picnic meals in the hot smoke-room or to munch a +sandwich on the wind-swept deck, having this one advantage of the enemy: +he was a good sailor.</p> + +<p>Seeing Severance seasick had "given him back a bit of his own," and made +up for a good deal, including close quarters. Because a man can't hit a +foe when he's down, however, Garth had let slip a heaven-sent chance for +revenge. He refrained from jeering aloud at his brother officer's +qualms. But was the said officer grateful for the superhuman sacrifice? +On the contrary! To-day's work on deck was the climax. Garth had heard +and seen Severance sneering at him, as he had sneered before. Sneering +to men was one thing, however; sneering to the most beautiful girl Garth +had ever seen was another.</p> + +<p>Severance's attempt to drive Garth from the regiment by rendering the +mess impossible, and by other methods which in contrast made schoolboy +ragging kind, had only stiffened the American's resolve to "stick it." +Failing the stings and pin-pricks inflicted by Severance as ringleader, +and two or three of his followers, Garth would not have desired to stay +in the British Army after the war, although his father had been an +officer in it. As it was, though he hadn't yet settled the future, he +inclined to hold his commission for awhile, if only to "show those chaps +they couldn't phaze him." He had felt bulldoggy rather than wild +bullish. But catching a word or two blown to his ears by the wind on +deck to-day, he had at the same time caught fire. Here was the limit, +and down the other side! He burned to prove this to Severance in some +way slightly more delicate than murder. In such a mood he slammed into +their cabin, and heard a little more. Still flaming, he saw the +ginger-beer bottle (by an irony of fate, Severance's bottle), and then, +almost before he knew what he was doing, the thing was done. A caddish +but a luscious thing! He gloried in it. As he stood at the stateroom +window, the emptied weapon fizzing in his hand, it struck Garth that he +had hit the nail on the head.</p> + +<p>"That's it," he said to himself, as he watched Severance furiously sop +his hair. "I've hit the nail on the head!"</p> + +<p>Never had he been more pleased with the precision of his aim, for not a +drop had gone wide of the target. He had counted on his skill to make a +bull's-eye or he would not have risked the coup. Of course, Severance's +friends would loathe as well as despise him; but they must admit that +the reprisal was pat, and above all neat. He shut the window and roared. +He hoped the trio outside would hear him, and he yearned to know what +Severance's next step would be.</p> + +<p>For this knowledge he had not long to wait; but when it came, it brought +disillusion. Severance arrived promptly, still dripping, to find Garth +at bay, a grin on his face.</p> + +<p>"Your beer," said V.C. "I'll pay you for it."</p> + +<p>He expected the other to shout "You shall!" and spring at him. Severance +seemed to think, however, that the dignified course was cold silence. +"Registering" scorn too glacial for language or even action, he gazed at +Garth as if the latter were a worm of some new and abominable species +unknown to science and beneath classification. This effect produced, he +turned to the mirror and repaired ravages to his hair with "Honey and +Flowers." The moment he was his well-groomed self again, he went out, +having uttered not one word.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm damned!" remarked Garth aloud. He then laughed, also aloud. +But there was a flat sound in his mirth. He felt like a good hot fire +quenched by a shovelful of snow, and was not sure whether he or +Severance had scored. Vaguely at a loss, like a stray dog, he took a +book to the smoking room, having no ambition to parade the deck +cock-o'-the-walk fashion. It turned out, however, that he could not +read. He could do nothing but think of that girl—that beautiful, +beautiful girl.</p> + +<p>Every man grows up with some ideal, bright or dim, of the woman whose +beauty might mean to him all romance: the woman of the horizon, of the +sunrise, of the bright foam of sea-waves. The girl on A deck of the +<i>Britannia</i> was Garth's ideal, his "Princess of Paradise."</p> + +<p>He didn't know who she was, but he meant to know. Not that it would do +him any good to find out. She was a friend of Severance, which meant +that there was a high wall round her so far as he, Garth, was concerned. +All the same, he wouldn't let much grass grow—or many waves +break—under his feet before he was in possession of her name. This was +about all he was ever likely to have of hers! But so much he would have, +soon.</p> + +<p>Presently a steward brought matches for his pipe. "Can you tell me," +Garth inquired, "who are the ladies sitting amidships on the port side +of this deck; a young lady in a blue hat, with a grey fur coat, and an +older woman in brown? They look as they'd be someone in particular?"</p> + +<p>"They are, sir," replied the man quite eagerly. "You must mean Miss +Sorel and her mother; they're with the Earl of Severance."</p> + +<p>"That's right," said Garth. "I wonder, are they the ones at the +Captain's table."</p> + +<p>"Certain to be, sir," the steward assured him.</p> + +<p>Garth lit his pipe, and let the steward go without further questioning. +He yearned to ask who the Sorels were, and why it was so certain they +would be in the place of honour at the Captain's table—where he might +have been, and was not! But somehow, the thought of pumping a steward +for intimate details about that girl repelled him. He supposed she was +"some swell" in Severance's set. Not since he had enlisted in the +Grenadier Guards, nearly five years ago, had he taken leave in London. +He had been eight times a "casualty," but by luck, or ill-luck, his +wounds had not been "Blighty-wounds." His last leave he had spent in +Paris, and the second—one summer—in Yorkshire and Scotland, because +his father had been a Yorkshireman by birth.</p> + +<p>If Garth had ever heard of Marise Sorel's success in New York and +London, the story had gone in at one ear and out at the other. It did +not occur to him that the Radiant Dream might be an actress. But her +face haunted him, got between his eyes and his book and made his pipe go +out, as sunlight is supposed to extinguish a fire.</p> + +<p>He had rather prided himself on these old clothes of his, on shipboard. +They were full five years of age, had been bought ready-made at +Albuquerque, Arizona, for twenty dollars, and were damned comfortable. +Now, to his shamed surprise, he found himself wishing he had kept to +khaki, as he had a right to do. Severance had called him a +"clod-hopper," and he knew the word fitted him in that suit, a blamed +sight better than did the suit itself!</p> + +<p>Well, it wasn't too late yet. He could doll up in his uniform any +minute; he could even claim his place at the Captain's table, and meet +the Girl. His heart beat at the thought. He made up his mind he would do +just that; and then as quickly he changed it.</p> + +<p>No, he might be a bounder, but he wouldn't be a cross between an ass and +a peacock. He'd go on as he'd begun. If there were a laugh anywhere at +present, it was against Severance. He would do nothing to turn it +against Garth.</p> + +<p>This resolution he clung to, despite occasional wobblings, for the rest +of the voyage.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Garth had not a "blood relation" on earth, as far as he knew; but he had +an adopted mother, and he had friends. These people lived mostly in the +West. He meant to see a little life in New York before going out there, +but he did not expect a soul in the east to notice his existence. It was +a surprise for him when all the reporters who swarmed on board the +<i>Britannia</i> from the tender made a bee-line for Major Garth, V.C. Each +wanted a "story," and Garth didn't know what to say. He was too glad to +see the shores of his adopted land, and too good-natured to snub the +humblest, but he didn't enjoy being interviewed. He got out of the +scrape as soon as he could; but there was another surprise awaiting him +on deck. He found himself a hero to the Custom House men!</p> + +<p>There was no chance of finding out what had become of Miss Sorel, but as +the reporters had rallied round her, and Lord Severance also, Garth was +reasonably sure to read later on who the girl was; where she was going; +whether or no she were engaged to his noble brother officer; and, +indeed, even many more picturesque facts than she knew about herself.</p> + +<p>It was after two o'clock when he arrived at the Hotel Belmore, where he +had stayed five years ago on the eve of sailing for England with his +invention. He was hungry, and aimed straight for the restaurant; but it +appeared that the manager had assigned to the only American V.C. a suite +with a private salon as well as bedroom and bath. A special luncheon for +the Major would be served there, with the compliments of the directors. +Garth could only accept with dazed thanks; and feeling like a +newly-awakened "Christopher Sly," he entered a room decorated with +flowers and flags. As he devoured delicious food, the New York evening +papers were handed to him by a smiling waiter who had read the headings.</p> + +<p>Yes, there he was, served up hot to the public with sauce piquante! Lord +knew how the fellows had got his photograph! Must be from some snapshot +caught by a <i>Daily Mirror</i> man in London, and sent over to New York for +use to-day. What a great lout he looked!... And—gee! if there wasn't +old Severance in another photo down under his. Wouldn't his earlship be +wild?</p> + +<p>Garth chuckled, and then suddenly choked. A gulp of the champagne, in +which he'd been pressed to drink to his own health, had gone the wrong +way. <i>Her</i> picture had caught his eye, in an adjoining column of the +<i>Evening World</i>, next to the portrait of Severance. "Our Own Marise +Comes Home," was the legend in big black type above. Oh! She was +American, not English! Must be an heiress if that chap intended to marry +her. Severance was supposed to be poor, for a peer; had been a pauper +till the death of an uncle and three cousins in the war gave him the +title.... What? an actress! Then, it wasn't true about her and +Severance—couldn't be true! That glorious girl was free! And, to judge +from the way New York was treating him, John Garth, V.C., was Somebody, +too. He was put above Miss Sorel's pal Severance in the papers—every +one of the papers!</p> + +<p>Eagerly Garth read about "The Spring Song" and "Dolores," the great +emotional part Marise Sorel had created, and was now to revive in New +York. It did not directly interest him that the whole of the old cast +would support the star, but it did matter that this fact reduced the +need for rehearsals to a minimum. The play would open at Belloc's +Theatre next week, and it was announced that for many days the house had +been entirely sold out. There wasn't a seat to be had for love or money. +"But I bet I get one for both!" Garth said to himself. "A seat for every +performance." Also he thought of something else he would do. The thing +might not help him to make Miss Sorel's acquaintance, but it would +satisfy his soul. And it would be worth all his back pay as a British +officer if he could carry out the plan.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>ANONYMOUS</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, Mums, I'm so happy!" purred Marise, as she sank into a chair, +physically spent, spiritually elated.</p> + +<p>It was in her dressing-room at the theatre—the marvellous dressing-room +which Belloc had engaged Herté to re-decorate as a tribute and a +surprise to the star. The stage curtain had rung down on the last act, +after eighteen recalls and a little laughing, hysterical speech from +Dolores. Sheridan and Belloc had both kissed her; and everyone had +cried, and her mother had torn her from clinging arms, to shut the +dressing-room door upon a dozen faces.</p> + +<p>Sudden peace followed clamour. There was not a sound. The air was sweet +with the breath of a thousand flowers. Céline moved softly about, with +stolid face. Mrs. Sorel beamed.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, dear; I do think you may be happy now," she vouchsafed.</p> + +<p>Marise caught the "second meaning"—the little more than met the +ear—hiding in her mother's words. Mums hadn't been easy about +Severance. She'd thought he had "something on his mind." She had even +been afraid that, although he was following the girl he loved from +London to New York, he didn't mean marriage. She had feared, and almost +expected, that he might break to Marise the news of his engagement to +another woman—a very different woman from the pretty actress. But that +time of Mum's depression had been on shipboard. Severance had "broken" +no news. He had been more devoted than ever before. He had curtailed his +official business in Washington, and rushed back to New York for the +first night of "The Song," so now Mrs. Sorel began to hope that for once +her "instinct" had been a deceiving Voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, happy about everything," she added, so that Marise might +understand without the maid sharing her enlightenment.</p> + +<p>"I am, just that!" agreed Marise, stealing time to breathe before Céline +should take off Dolores' "bedroom-scene" dress.</p> + +<p>She looked round the room. It had been decorated by the Russian-French +artist, Herté (who had never seen her), to suit Sargent's portrait which +Belloc had lent him to study. In the girl's opinion it did not suit her +at all, unless she were in reality a tigress camouflaged to represent a +sheaf of lilies. But evidently that was what Herté thought she was, and +his conception of her temperament made the girl feel subtle and +mysterious. She adored feeling like that, and she adored Herté's tawny +orange splashes on violent blues, and his sombre blacks and dazzling +whites and lemon yellows, which somehow did not fade her sunlight +fairness. People knew about this room, for descriptions and photographs +of it had appeared in all the papers since she and Mums landed; +consequently everyone had sent flowers to match Herté's famous +colourings.</p> + +<p>There were silver azaleas, black tulips, queer scarlet roses, Japanese +tiger lilies, weird magenta orchids, and purple pinks. Severance had +sent blue lilies—the blue that Marise loved, and called "the colour of +her soul." The lilies had been the best of the huge collection, until +the Exciting Thing came—the thing accompanied by no letter, no card. +Towards this object the eyes of Marise travelled. She had been +"intrigued" by it the whole evening, whenever she had time to think, and +puzzle over its charm and mystery.</p> + +<p>"It" was a table; a small, round tea-table of rich red mahogany with a +well in its centre for flowers, and small holes in a line circling its +edge for the same purpose. These receptacles were filled and hidden with +the largest, purplest, and most fragrant violets Marise had ever seen, +and their amethyst tones, massed against the dark, rose-brown wood, +produced an exquisite effect. Marise believed herself an up-to-date +young woman, and her Persian dressing-room in London had rivalled Lily +Brayton's Chinese room during the run of "Chu Chin Chow." But she had +never heard of such a design as this in tables. It must be the newest of +the new, and invented by a great artist, she thought. In fear of seeming +ignorant, she had asked no questions of anyone, hoping to glean +information by luck: and vanity, as usual with her, had its own reward.</p> + +<p>"By George, who sent you Herté's latest?" Belloc had exclaimed, when he +bounced into her room before the first act to see if his star were +"going strong."</p> + +<p>Marise had to admit that she didn't know. But she put on an air of +awareness as to Herté. This was the sort of thing her mother taught her: +to seem innocent, but never ignorant—especially of anything "smart." +Mrs. Sorel had suggested that Herté himself might have contributed the +lovely specimen of his work, to complete the decoration of the room. +Belloc, however, had vetoed this idea. If there were no accompanying +poem, or at least a card, Herté wasn't guilty. He was not a young man +who bothered to blush unseen. So that hypothesis was "off"; and Marise +could think of no one among her acquaintances likely to spend so much +cash without getting credit.</p> + +<p>Belloc was giving a supper for her after the theatre, and Herté was +there; a dark, haggardly beautiful young man who looked as if he had +detached himself from one of his own wall decorations. Belloc had placed +him next the star, not knowing whether Marise were really engaged to +Lord Severance or not; and the first question the girl asked was about +the table.</p> + +<p>"Ah, you have my beloved violet-table!" he said, looking at her in the +way he had with beautiful young women: stripping her with his eyes and +dressing her all over again in a gown of his own creation. "I am +glad—glad."</p> + +<p>"You didn't know?"</p> + +<p>He shook his head until a black lock fell over his pale forehead. "I did +not. It was finished by the glorified cabinet-maker I employ: it +appeared in the window of my place. You must see my place, now your +rehearsals are over! You will want beauty to rest your mind—and you +will want Me to design your dresses! An hour later the table was snapped +up—gone from me forever."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but who snapped it?"</p> + +<p>Herté looked blank. "Your admiring friend, who knew it belonged, by +right of beauty, to you."</p> + +<p>"Thanks! But I want you to tell me his—or her—name."</p> + +<p>"Are you not acquainted with so much of him?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not. And I'm dying to be, because the gentleman is anonymous—a +great unknown!"</p> + +<p>"I am sure he is great, as a judge of art and ladies. But that is all I +am sure of, beautiful Dolores."</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Herté, you are hiding his secret!"</p> + +<p>"I could hide no secret from you. I will tell you all I know. A boy +messenger bought the table. A millionaire's boy messenger, perhaps! My +manager informed me what had happened. We guessed at once there was a +mystery."</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you find out?" Marise persisted.</p> + +<p>Herté shrugged his sloping shoulders. "Beyond a boy messenger no man can +go. He keeps the gate with a flaming sword. But you will find out some +day. Meanwhile, be content. You have the latest creation of my brain—of +my heart. At present it is the one thing of its kind in existence."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel asked Severance if he had sent the table, which, she +explained, Marise had found in her dressing-room on arriving there. It +had been brought to the theatre by two boy messengers, full of flowers +(not the boys, but the table), and no word had been left whence it came. +Severance, bitterly jealous of the secret gift (which had, so to speak, +taken all the blue paint off his Persian lilies), would gladly have +claimed credit had he dared. But the real giver might announce himself +at any moment, and be able to prove his <i>bona fides</i>: so Severance made +a virtue of necessity. Belloc's supper-party was a "frost" for him, +though he sat by the second prettiest girl. He hated Herté and the +others, especially a millionaire member of New York's "Four Hundred," +who was financially interested in Belloc's schemes—and in his leading +ladies.</p> + +<p>Severance would have given anything—short of his title and estates, and +such money as came with them—to snatch the girl from all the men, who +would go on admiring and making love to her when he was far away. He did +not know how he could bear to turn his back and leave her to these +Americans, who had so much money and so much "cheek." He felt as if he +were throwing her to the lions—this exquisite morsel which he coveted +for himself, but was unlikely to get on the terms he could offer. +Almost, he wished that he had told her the truth in London, and said +good-bye to her then. Almost, but not quite; for he simply had not been +able to let her go like that. He had to be with her: he had to see the +sort of men she would gather round her on the other side of the world.</p> + +<p>Well, he had come; and he had seen; and he had made things harder for +himself instead of easier. He did not know what he should do next. An +arrangement, a compromise, must be thought of. When he spoke, he must +have something to propose—some alternative or other. But what under +heaven, or in hell, it could be, he had no clear inspiration yet.</p> + +<p>Marise ordered the violet-table to be taken from the theatre to the +Plaza Hotel, where she and her mother had a suite. She thought it would +give her more pleasure there, where much of her time was passed, and the +wonderful violets had not lost their freshness: they were so firm and +vital that they looked as if they would never fade. But on the second +night of "The Song," when Marise arrived in her dressing-room, another +anonymous gift awaited her.</p> + +<p>It was smaller than the table, but not less original; a black bowl, half +full of water bright and pale green as aquamarines, on the surface of +which floated three pink pond-lilies. The bowl stood on the star's +dressing-table, and, switching on the electric lights, a gleam as of +drowned emeralds sparkled under the lilies. Marise cried out in delight, +and ran to look for a card. This time he would reveal himself! (She knew +it was "he," and that it was the same man who had sent the table.) But +no. There was neither card nor note. Messenger boys had brought the +bowl. They had driven up in a taxi. If only Marise had dreamed of +receiving a second gift from the same source, she would have watched—or +even employed a detective. She was so excited and curious that she +feared for her acting that night.</p> + +<p>With the bowl and the lilies had come a large jar of crystals for +tinting the water: green, glittering lumps, like precious stones from +Aladdin's Cave, and that was precisely the label on the jar of jewels: +"Aladdin's Cave." Marise was childishly thrilled. When Belloc peeped in, +she showed her treasures, and learned that "Aladdin's Cave" was the name +chosen by a queer artist, new, but famous already for his +exhibition-shop in a cellar of that Bohemian haunt known as Greenwich +Village.</p> + +<p>Next morning the girl went there in a taxi: and when she had bought +exotic enamels, and transparent vases filled with synthetic sapphires, +she told "Aladdin" about the bowl. Like Herté, he shook his head. He was +but another man who "could not go beyond a District messenger boy."</p> + +<p>The stage door-keeper was now warned to find out what he could, if +another anonymous gift appeared. Also, Céline was sent early to the +theatre. Marise could not, however, quite bring herself to engage a +detective. She was tempted to do so, and urged by her mother, who had +visions of a mysterious millionaire ready to take the place of Severance +if the Englishman failed after all. But the girl felt that to set +sleuth-hounds on its track would kill romance. It would, she told Mums, +be like deliberately rubbing the bloom off hothouse grapes before you +ate them. And as it turned out, she was glad she had listened to +sentiment; for on the third night her only offerings were chocolates and +flowers ticketed conspicuously with their givers' names.</p> + +<p>This was like a too abrupt ending to a fairy tale. But, after all, it +was only the end of a chapter. On the fourth night a long +blue-and-silver box lay across two chairs in the dressing-room. It +looked like a box from a smart dressmaker, though no dressmaker's name +was visible. "Has Mademoiselle ordered anything?" Céline inquired, as +she untied the ribbon-fastenings.</p> + +<p>No, Mademoiselle had ordered nothing that day—at least nothing for the +theatre. She gave a little gasp as the Frenchwoman removed the box cover +and a layer of silver-stencilled blue tissue paper. Underneath filmed a +pale blue cloud which Marise snatched up and pronounced to be a "boudoir +gown." It was made from a material which fashion names mousseline de +soie one year and something else another. It was the blue of bluebells, +banded with swansdown and embroidered with silver thistles. Altogether, +it might have been created expressly for Miss Sorel by an admiring +genius.</p> + +<p>"From Herté!" exclaimed Mums.</p> + +<p>But Marise knew better, and would pit her own "instinct" against her +mother's any day. "No, from Him," she pronounced. "If this goes on much +longer without my finding out who He is, I shall simply perish."</p> + +<p>And it did go on: not night after night, but stopping, and beginning +again just as she thought the giver's invention exhausted or his pockets +empty. It went on for ten days, until Marise had received, in addition +to the three first gifts, an ancient Italian mirror in a carved silver +frame; an exquisite wax doll, modelled and dressed to represent herself +as "Dolores" in the third act of "The Spring Song," and an old Sèvres +box filled with crystallised violets—evidently <i>his</i> favoured flower.</p> + +<p>"He must be rich, or else he's poor, and so in love that he's absolutely +beggaring himself for you," said Mrs. Sorel.</p> + +<p>Marise volunteered no opinion. But secretly she preferred the second +hypothesis. She was used to rich men; but no girl is ever really used to +Romance. The mystery thrilled and delighted her, and bored Severance to +distraction. He realised that, if he said to the girl what he had to say +while this spell was upon her, she might let him go with hardly a pang, +instead of clinging to him at almost any price. So he did not say it. He +waited, and sent several cables to his mother's half-brother, +Constantine Ionides, one of the richest bankers in Europe. In the first +of these telegrams he stated that he had influenza, and might not be +allowed to travel for several weeks, but, as soon as he could, he would +return to London. This, because he had come to a certain understanding +with his half-uncle before undertaking the American "mission," and +because Mr. Ionides unluckily knew that the unimportant mission was now +wound up.</p> + +<p>At the end of ten days the girl decided upon a desperate step, for she +felt that "Dolores" as well as Marise Sorel was beginning to suffer from +curiosity deferred. She forgot to take a cue on the night of the doll; +and at home, after she had been in bed an hour, she suddenly sat up and +switched on the light. On a table within reach of her hand were paper +and envelopes, and a gold fountain-pen given her by Severance. Quickly +she wrote out a paragraph which she had composed in the sleepless hours; +and without a word to Mums (sure to disapprove) she gave it very early +next morning to Céline with instructions.</p> + +<p>That evening, in some of the New York papers, and the following day in +all those which had "personal" columns, her paragraph appeared. "Dolores +thanks the anonymous friend who has sent her six charming gifts in ten +days, and begs that he or she will make an appointment to call at her +hotel as soon as possible, in order that Dolores may express her +pleasure and gratitude by word of mouth."</p> + +<p>When Marise read this appeal in print her heart beat in her throat, and +she was dreadfully afraid that her mother or Severance might happen to +glance down that column. But she was even more afraid that the person to +whom it was addressed might not.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>ON SUNDAY AT THREE</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, by the way, Miss Marks," said Marise, "you needn't trouble to read +my letters this morning. I—er—slept badly, and I'm up at such an +unearthly hour, I might as well go through them myself."</p> + +<p>She spoke from the doorway between her bedroom and the salon, where Miss +Marks, her secretary, was taking off gloves and hat before getting to +work; and she had on the boudoir gown of mousseline de soie and +swansdown sent by the Great Unknown a week ago. This was the first time +she had worn it, and Miss Marks's eyes sent forth a flash which might +mean admiration or jealousy, or both. Marise diagnosed the emotion as +jealousy. If she were right, she was sorry for the girl, who, though +handsome, could not compare with her, and who, though very intelligent, +was only a stenographer, at about twenty-five: two years older than she, +who was already a brilliant star!</p> + +<p>This thought was but a flash, brief as the flash in the secretary's +eyes, for instantly the mind of Marise turned to the letters. Thank +goodness she was in time! Another three minutes, and she might have been +too late. Miss Marks would by then have begun her first task of the day: +opening letters and sorting them, placing requests for autographs and +photos in one pile, pleas for money in a second, demands for advice or +help about going on the stage in a third, and so on. Who could tell if +the one envelope whose contents no eye but Marise Sorel's should see +mightn't lie at the very top?</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, it did not lie at the top. It was nearer the +bottom, and long before she found it Marise had begun to fear that it +didn't exist.</p> + +<p>The trying part was that the envelopes told her nothing. She had to cut +or tear open each one, unless she recognised the handwriting of the +address, and could then throw it aside till later. She went through the +business curled up on a sofa, sitting on one foot, which showed among +snowdrifts of swansdown. It was a stockingless foot, thrust into a +silver <i>mule</i> lined with blue velvet; and her skin was satin smooth and +creamy pink as the inside of a conch shell. Miss Marks noticed this, and +noticed also how long and thick was the plait of yellow-brown hair that +dangled over the sofa-back, its curling end within a few inches of the +floor. She smiled faintly as she saw how fast her employer worked, and +how she tossed the letters aside after a fevered glance at each. Marise +was quite right. Miss Marks was very intelligent! She knew, almost as +well as if she had been told the whole story, just why Miss Sorel had +got up at so "unearthly an hour" this morning.</p> + +<p>"Ah, now she's found the one she didn't want me to see!" the dark girl +said to herself, as the face of Marise turned suddenly pink, and bent +over a letter which she read through twice from beginning to end. Then, +lest she should be caught staring, Miss Marks began to arrange her +newly-sharpened pencils and the writing-pad on which she would take +down, in shorthand, letters dictated by Miss Sorel.</p> + +<p>She need not, however, have troubled herself with these elaborate +precautions. Miss Sorel was interested in and puzzled by this handsome +young Jewess with the burning eyes and wet-coral lips; but for the +moment Miss Marks's very existence was forgotten.</p> + +<p>The letter had come, as Marise hoped it might, on this the second day of +her advertisement; but the mystery remained unsolved. Indeed, it was +purposely kept up, for the thick parchment paper had neither initial nor +address. The few words on the first page were unsigned, and only one +secret was given away: but to Marise this was of great importance. The +strong, black handwriting was certainly that of a man. She would have +turned sick with chagrin at sight of a woman's penmanship.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"It is I who have to thank you, not you me," she read. "You are +very kind to invite me to call, and say I must come soon. I +will take you at your word. Unless I hear to the contrary +through a second 'personal' in the <i>New York Record</i>, I will +ask for you at the Plaza Hotel at three o'clock next Sunday +afternoon."</p></blockquote> + +<p>This was all, and Marise hardly knew whether to be pleased or +disappointed with the brief simplicity of her anonymous admirer. He, +whose original ideas in presents had made her imagine him the most +modern and mundane of men, expressed himself on paper rather like a shy, +old-fashioned schoolboy. A dampening doubt oozed into the girl's mind. +What if he hadn't picked out those wonderful things himself? What if he +had got some woman to choose them? But even a doubt—a piercing, new +doubt—had its fascination. And after Sunday it would be gone for ever. +She would know the worst—or best—of her Mystery Man.</p> + +<p>On Sunday afternoons she and her mother were "at home" to their friends, +from four to six; He proposed coming at three, however, and he was sure +to be prompt to the moment. That ought to give an hour before extraneous +people began to pour in. But—what about Mums? Marise concentrated her +mind upon that pressing problem.</p> + +<p>Mums was as curious as she concerning the unknown. But Mums, though an +absolute trump and a darling, was the most conventional woman on earth. +Just because she and Marise were not born to the high sphere they now +adorned, Mums was determined that neither should be guilty of the +smallest act unworthy of—at least—a countess. Naturally, as Mums +herself would admit, if you were already a countess, you could perhaps +afford to do what you pleased: and to judge from "smart society" columns +many countesses availed themselves to the full of their prerogatives. +Marise might soon be a countess; and if so, Mums would cease to dictate +from the rules of an etiquette book; but until that day those keen brown +eyes needed no lorgnettes to watch a daughter's doings.</p> + +<p>After a few minutes' reflection, the girl decided that she would not +confess to Mums what she had done. It would mean a scolding as a first +instalment, and a serial continued day by day of gentle, motherly +nagging. Marise loved her parent, but she hated to be nagged. No. Mums +must somehow be whisked out of the way before three o'clock next Sunday, +and kept out of it long enough for an understanding to be reached with +Him.</p> + +<p>Of course, Marise said to herself, she wouldn't tell a fib. She would +just explain frankly (she could see how she would look, her eyes very +blue and big, being frank with Him!) that she hadn't dared tell anyone, +even her mother, about the advertisement. And she would beg him to "help +her out" when she—er—made it seem as if he'd merely written to say he +would call unless he heard to the contrary. By that time she would know +his name, so the thing could be managed easily, and Mums never suspect +to what lengths she had gone. As for Severance, the coast would be clear +of him on Sunday till long after three. Dunstan Belloc was giving a +"stag" luncheon that day, at one-thirty, and she had persuaded Tony +against his will to accept. But Mums? How dispose of her? Suddenly a +bright idea swam to the rescue.</p> + +<p>Marise slipped the Unknown's letter into a pocket disguised as a bunch +of silver thistles. Then, with large, innocent eyes, she turned to her +secretary, "Oh, Miss Marks!" she exclaimed. And being an actress, it +occurred to her that the young woman addressed was surprisingly absorbed +in removing lead-pencil dust from her manicured fingers. If +she—Marise—had been secretly studying Miss Marks's profile or back +hair, she would have been equally absent-minded if addressed! She +wondered for the fiftieth time whether it was a coincidence that Miss +Marks had called on the manager of the Plaza the very day after the +Sorels had asked him to find a private secretary.</p> + +<p>At first, when Marise saw how handsome the girl was, and heard that +she'd "hoped Miss Sorel might want someone," the wary young actress +feared that Miss Marks wished to go on the stage. But now the +stenographer had been coming to the Plaza each morning for a week, and +had not thrown out such a hint. She was, indeed, entirely business-like, +and possessed of good references. Still, the fact remained that she had +never before applied to the manager of this hotel; and her appearance +had been apropos as that of the sacrificial sheep caught in the bushes. +Besides, Marise had often observed that odd, appreciative flame in the +black eyes, as if Miss Marks were more interested than a secretary need +be in her employer.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Sorel?" the dark girl responded. "Would you like me to take +dictation?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, thanks," said Marise. "I haven't had my bath or breakfast, and +I'm hungry. But I've thought of something. Mother and I were so excited +about that Polish boy-dressmaker genius you were talking of yesterday. +He sounds wonderful; and, as he's only beginning, I suppose he's not +choked with orders. He might do some work for me in a hurry?"</p> + +<p>"I think he'd sit up at night and go without meals by day to work for +you," replied Miss Marks. "It would be such an advertisement. And he +loves working for pretty people."</p> + +<p>"Well, I love helping geniuses." Marise modestly accepted the +compliment. "Didn't you say his flat is on your floor?"</p> + +<p>Miss Marks answered that this was the case. Valinski would move to a +fashionable neighbourhood some day. At present his talent budded in 85th +Street.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could go to him myself," sighed Marise. "I can't now, for I'm +so hard-worked and tired. But I thought mother might take a taxi after +lunch next Sunday and choose a design for a tea-gown—his specialty, you +said. Would he see her on Sunday—about a quarter to three, so she could +get back for her friends?"</p> + +<p>Miss Marks was certain of Valinski's consent. She would come for Mrs. +Sorel, if that would suit, and take her to the dressmaker. Marise +thought it would suit: and Mums, arriving at that moment dressed for the +day, an appointment was made.</p> + +<p>The life of Marise Sorel was so full, the pattern of each day so gaily +embroidered with emotions and incidents, that she was surprised at her +own excitement. She did not, however, try to quench it. She loved to +feel that, in spite of the adulation she received, one side of her +nature was as fresh, as unspoiled, as a child's. And she was as guiltily +pleased as a child when, at twenty minutes before three on Sunday +afternoon, her mother went down to a waiting taxi with Zélie Marks. +Patronising the Pole and choosing a design would eat up an hour, Marise +had calculated.</p> + +<p>She had put on a white dress of the simplicity whose price is beyond +rubies. Her hair was in a great gleaming knot of gold at the nape of her +neck. She looked about sixteen, and felt it. When the bell of the +telephone rang at three minutes before three, she thrilled all over.</p> + +<p>"A gentleman asking for Mademoiselle. He says he has an appointment," +announced Céline at the 'phone.</p> + +<p>"Any name?" Marise inquired.</p> + +<p>Céline put her lips to the instrument, the receiver to her ear. "The +gentleman has given no name, because he is expected. But if Mademoiselle +wishes that I insist——?"</p> + +<p>"No. Tell them he's to come up at once. And, Céline, be ready to open +the door of the suite."</p> + +<p>The Frenchwoman went out noiselessly: Marise rushed to the long mirror, +in front of which tall, scented roses were banked. Her cheeks were very +pink. She was like a rose herself. But hastily she rubbed her little +nose with powder from a vanity box. The gold case was only just snapped +shut, and Marise seated with a book, when she heard a sound in the +vestibule. He had come!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>SAMSON AGONISTES</h3> + + +<p>Marise raised her eyes from an uncut volume of poems, and looked into +the face of—Samson.</p> + +<p>The shock of disillusion was so cruel that the girl felt faint. She was +giddy, as if she had stooped too long over a hot fire and risen +abruptly.</p> + +<p>So this—<i>this</i>—was her Man of Mystery, he who had held in unseen hands +more than half her thoughts for a delicious fortnight! She had deigned +to advertise in a newspaper for the pleasure of meeting this lout, +spurned by his smart regiment, despite his Victoria Cross: this cad, +whose notion of revenge was to explode as a bomb a bottle of +ginger-beer!</p> + +<p>The warm glow of anticipation was chilled to ice. The hands that +tightened on the book went suddenly cold. Marise did not know what to +do. She wavered between an impulse to be rude and the dutiful decency of +a hostess. Meanwhile, forgetting to act, she stared at the tall figure +as if at an approaching executioner. No one but a blind man or a fool +could have failed to see in those beautiful eyes the blankness of +disappointment.</p> + +<p>John Garth was neither blind nor a fool, and that look of hers was a +sharp-edged axe which "hit him where he lived," as his bruised mind +vaguely put it.</p> + +<p>He too had been like a child. Ever since the day of landing in New York +he had planned and existed only for this moment. He had coached himself +for it, dressed himself for it, spent his money like water for it. And +this was his reward. The sight of him was a blow over the heart for his +queen of romance. It blanched her cheeks. It made her physically sick.</p> + +<p>Céline had softly shut the door behind the guest, but involuntarily he +backed against it. If he had been a few years younger he would have +turned like a country boy and rushed away without a word. But there are +some things a man can't do; and others he must do. Garth had to say +something—the sooner the better.</p> + +<p>What he said—or what said itself lamely—was: "You didn't expect to see +me?"</p> + +<p>"No. I—didn't," Marise as lamely agreed.</p> + +<p>"Do you want me to go?" he blundered. "If you do, I will."</p> + +<p>"No—no," she breathed a lukewarm protest. "Don't go—please. I—I'm +only a little surprised. I remember—seeing you on the ship, of course. +And I didn't think——"</p> + +<p>"You didn't think I'd force myself on you—by false pretences."</p> + +<p>"I was going to say, I didn't think of seeing anyone to-day—whom I'd +ever seen before." The ice of her shocked resentment melted slightly in +the reflected fire of his pain. "That's all! Do—sit down, won't you? +I'm so grateful. I want to tell you how much—how much I thank you for +those beautiful things."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, the girl's face flushed again. After all, the man had done +nothing so monstrous. He couldn't be blamed, perhaps, for not realising +that merely by being himself—by being a bounder whom his brother +officers rejected—he had broken the charm of the mystery. He couldn't +know how undesirable he would seem to a girl of her sort. And the way he +had dressed himself up like a provincial actor playing a duke, to make +his call, was pathetic! Besides, there was the money he'd spent on +her—hundreds and hundreds of dollars which he couldn't afford. Oh, she +was glad that she hadn't followed her first fierce impulse, and been +rude!</p> + +<p>Garth had not accepted the invitation to sit down. He remained standing +upright as a stick, and stolid as a stone, against the door. Evidently +he stuck to his resolve to take himself away, and was delayed only by +the mental puzzle of how best to do it. With a repentant throe the girl +sprang up, light and lithe from among her cushions, holding out her +hands.</p> + +<p>"I do thank you!" she exclaimed. "And I <i>want</i> you to sit down."</p> + +<p>Her look, her gesture, overcame him. He took a step forward, seized the +offered hands, and almost crushed them in his. Marise was rather +frightened, rather touched, but not too much moved to notice that he +didn't know enough about behaviour to take off his gloves—his brutally +new, gamboge-coloured gloves! Or else he was absent minded!</p> + +<p>Partly because her one ring was pressing into her finger, partly because +she wished for instant release, she gave a little squeak of pain. "Oh, +my ring!"</p> + +<p>Red blood poured up to the man's brown face. The pressure relaxed, but +he did not let her hands go. He lifted them to his lips and kissed first +one, then the other. His mouth was hot as a coal just dropped from the +fire!... That was her quick impression. She was not shocked, for her +hands had been kissed a hundred times by sad, mad men—though not men +like this. She said "Oh!" however, and gazed at him reproachfully, as +"Dolores" gazed at the villain in "The Song."</p> + +<p>The effect upon Garth was the same as if she had been sincerely +offended. He let her hands fall, and stammered "Forgive me!"</p> + +<p>Marise was beginning to enjoy herself a little, on the whole.</p> + +<p>Of course the man was common and rough. What was it that Tony had called +his despised brother officer? A "temporary gentleman!" Yes, that was it! +And a "momentary gentleman" would be even more appropriate, she thought, +because at an instant of deep emotion all decent men were raised to the +heights of Nature's gentility. This fellow was as fine as any nobleman, +for these few seconds of time, she realised, and it was worship of her +which added the new decoration to his V.C.! Despite her disappointment, +she felt that romance was not utterly lacking in the situation.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing to forgive," were the obvious words her lips spoke: but +the language of such eyes as hers could never be obvious. The soul of +John Garth drowned in their blue depths. As dying men lose all care for +conventions, so did he lose it while thus he drowned.</p> + +<p>"I love you—I love you!" he faltered. "You know, don't you? From the +first—from the first look!"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I don't know that," Marise soothed him. "But you've been so +kind. Those wonderful presents! You ought not——"</p> + +<p>"Thinking of them—sending them—has been the big joy of my life," he +broke in. "I've been—drunk with it. I've never felt anything like this +before. Why, I'd die for you; I'd sell my soul. Even that's nothing!"</p> + +<p>"They're very great things," she assured him gravely, as she had assured +other men of different types who had flung themselves on her altar as +burnt-offerings. "Any woman would feel the same. But——"</p> + +<p>"I don't care a hang what any other woman would feel. All I care for on +God's earth is you—you. Couldn't you think of me—couldn't you, if I +tried to make something of myself——?"</p> + +<p>Marise laughed a charming laugh. "Isn't it making something of yourself, +to have won the Victoria Cross?" she challenged.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that! That was an accident. I just got so mad I forgot to be scared +for a minute or two, and went for a few Germans——"</p> + +<p>"The newspapers compared you to Horatio keeping the bridge against an +army."</p> + +<p>"George! You remember that?"</p> + +<p>"Women don't forget such things." (She would have forgotten if that +clipping from the <i>Daily Mail</i> hadn't associated itself with Tony's +onslaught upon the regimental hero. But she wasn't called upon to +mention this.) "It was long before I saw you, that I read what you had +done, and fixed your name in my mind," she went on. "Now I have my own +special memories of you. I shall keep your gifts always. And I shall be +prouder of them than ever, because they came from a hero——"</p> + +<p>"You're breaking it to me that there's no hope," he cut in. The blood +was gone from his face now. "Nothing I could do, or try to be, would +make you like me well enough——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are too impulsive!" she checked him. "You've seen me only +twice——"</p> + +<p>"I've seen you every night since we landed, and twice a week in the +afternoon."</p> + +<p>"What, you've come to the theatre for every performance, even matinées, +just to—to——?"</p> + +<p>"Hear your voice and see your face. And hate that damned actor-chap who +kisses you in the third act."</p> + +<p>"He doesn't really kiss me," Marise hurried to explain. "He only seems +to."</p> + +<p>"God! He must be a stone image!"</p> + +<p>"He is a gentleman," amended Marise. "Actors who are gentlemen don't +kiss the actresses who play opposite parts, unless—unless it's +absolutely necessary."</p> + +<p>"Then if I played a part with you on the stage, I couldn't be a +gentleman," Garth exploded. But even as he spoke he blushed darkly. "You +don't think I am one <i>off</i> the stage," he added. "And you're right. I'm +not what your friend Lord Severance calls a gentleman. I know what he +does call me, and I am that, I guess, anyhow when he's within gunshot. +He brings out all that's worst in me. There's a lot of it—so much, that +if that thing on shipboard was to do over again, I'd do it without a +qualm. I suppose there's where the 'cad' element he talks about in me +shows up. If he was here now——"</p> + +<p>"Ze Earl of Severance, Mademoiselle," announced Céline.</p> + +<p>Whether Garth had meant to boast or belittle himself Marise would never +know. Nor did she care. All her faculties concentrated upon how to +account to Severance for the man. It was a suffocating moment. She +feared a scene between the two. The situation called for a stroke of +genius. Was she equal to it? She must be, for Garth's sake and for her +own, even more than for Tony's, and what he would think.</p> + +<p>Severance came in. Suddenly Marise felt as she had felt on the stage +when something went wrong with the play. She had often had to save +situations by sheer, quick mother wit. Never had she failed her fellow +actors in a crisis. She ought to be ready for this!</p> + +<p>Her nerves ceased to jump. She was calm and confident. As Severance's +darkening gaze fell on Garth, she heard herself glibly explaining the +latter, as if to an audience.</p> + +<p>"Major Garth is a friend of Miss Marks, my secretary. She has gone out +for a few minutes with mother, but he is waiting for her. She'll soon be +back."</p> + +<p>Speaking, she smiled at the V.C., and her eyes pleaded excuses for the +fib. "It's only a white one," they said. "And it saves our secret. I +know you'd hate me to tell him you'd sent the presents, and I never, +never will. That is sacred, between us two. So is all the rest. And I'm +trying to straighten things out for us both."</p> + +<p>Garth appeared to be astonished, but not shocked. His silk hat (a size +too small) lay on a table in a pool of water from an upset vase, he +having flung it there to free his hands for hers. Now he made a move to +retrieve his damaged property, but a second thought gave him pause. +Marise read his mind as if it worked under glass. Her fib about Miss +Marks had doomed him to the part of Casabianca, while the ship of his +pride burned.</p> + +<p>The "lion-look" she had seen in the man's eyes that day at sea was in +them again. Poor brute at bay, caged with Severance! The girl pitied +him. But things must take their course. Luckily for the success of her +lie, Miss Marks was not returning with Mums. She—Marise—need only say, +when the latter arrived alone, what a pity it was! Thus Samson would +automatically obtain his release.</p> + +<p>The men nodded to one another, as polite enemies must sullenly do in a +woman's drawing-room. Then Severance turned to Miss Sorel with the air +of sponging Garth's mean existence off the earthly slate. "I'm early," +he explained, "because the hotel people sent me a cable to Belloc's +place. I told them to do so, if one came. My Uncle Constantine Ionides +is ill, and I'm afraid I shall have to go back by the first ship I can +catch. I hoped to be in time for a few words with you before your +friends began to drop in."</p> + +<p>This was hard on the intruder, forced against his will to turn a +"company" into a "crowd," and Marise's kind heart might have resented +the slap if her mind had been free. But it was instantly preoccupied +with Tony's news. He was going home! He wanted to talk with her alone. +This could mean only one thing. She supposed that he wished her to +understand as much; and either he took Garth for a dunce or intended him +to understand it too. It was as if he said to the bounder: "You're +welcome to what you can find in your own class: Miss Marks and her set. +But eyes down and hands off this girl. She's mine."</p> + +<p>The hint was too broad, the position too humiliating, for Garth's temper +to bear in patience. Like the caged brute in Marise's simile, he +searched the bars for some way of breaking through. But he could not +leave her in the lurch. Practically, she'd ordered him to "stand by," +and he'd have to do it, unless some look of hers gave him leave to bolt. +The look did not come, however, and he could not guess that the girl was +merely too absent-minded to give it. She had suddenly become as +self-absorbed as a hermit-crab when he pulls every filament of himself +inside his ample shell. As Miss Sorel questioned Severance about the +telegram, Garth was left to his own resources. He felt gigantic in the +small, pretty salon, where Chinese jars and ribboned pots of flowers +left hardly room for a clumsy fellow like him to turn among frail chairs +and tables. He knew that Severance knew how he writhed in spirit, and +that Severance knew he knew. How much worse was this ordeal than a petty +barrage of ginger-beer! Severance was scoring heavily now. Garth thought +in dumb rage that he would give a year of life for some way to pay him +back. And the girl, too! He loved her with a burning love, but at this +moment the difference between love and hate was as imperceptible as that +between the touch of ice and a red-hot poker. She was being very cruel. +Garth felt capable of punishing her—with Severance—if he could.</p> + +<p>He took his hat from the table, and rubbing the wet silk with his glove, +stained the yellow kid. Incidentally he made the hat worse. He wandered +to a window looking over the park, and longed to jump out. In his +awkward misery, the man's raw sensitiveness suffered to exaggeration. +Staring jealously at the crowd below—walking, driving, spinning past in +autos—he knew the emotions of one penned at the top of a house on fire, +gazing down at the safe, comfortable people free to pursue their daily +business of life, and love, and work. Behind him, Marise and her friend +jabbered (that was the word in his head, even for her sweet voice) as if +he were invisible. Desperation seized him. He turned, and down went a +stand with a statuette and the Sèvres box the "Unknown" had sent Miss +Sorel. It was poetic justice that <i>his</i> gift should be the thing +smashed!</p> + +<p>Marise said "Oh!" Severance said nothing. He stood still, fingering his +miniature moustache with the air of a man who expects a lackey to repair +damage. Garth saw red; and if he had picked up a piece of the broken box +it would have been to hurl it at the dark, sneering face. But Heaven +sometimes tempers the wind to shorn lions as well as lambs: and if +Providence did not order the entrance of two women at that instant, who +did?</p> + +<p>It was Mrs. Sorel who appeared and (Marise gasped) Miss Zélie Marks. Out +of her shell in self-defence, the actress would have rushed to save this +scene, as she had saved the last—somehow, anyhow! But to her +bewilderment Garth took one great stride towards Miss Marks and snatched +her hand as drowning men are said to snatch at straws. "How do you do?" +he exclaimed eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Miss Marks and Major Garth are friends," Marise rattled off to her +mother. And to herself she added, "How smart of him to guess who she +was! Or—did he know?"</p> + +<p>The secretary's cheeks were stained carnation, and she was handsomer in +an instant than Marise had thought she could be in a year. Her black +eyes were twinkling. Did she guess that she was a pawn in a game, and +had she so keen a sense of humour as to laugh? Marise was more +interested than ever in this young woman: and Mrs. Sorel, not knowing +the plot of the play, was yet warned by her famous "instinct" that +something queer, something dangerous, was in the air.</p> + +<p>She was a woman who prided herself on presence of mind. Marise hadn't +expected her secretary to return, therefore it seemed unlikely she would +have encouraged the Bounder to wait for Miss Marks. And as for that, why +was the Bounder here? Being here, the further he could be kept from +Marise and Severance the better. She herself had no time to weave spells +for him. Miss Marks must do that, and take him away with her when she +went. Without appearing to pause after Marise's announcement, Mary Sorel +smiled at Miss Marks. "Talk to Major Garth, my dear," she patronised, +"while I explain to my daughter why we tore back in such a rush."</p> + +<p>Zélie Marks took the lady at her word, and drew her "friend" apart. By +the remotest window the two halted, standing confidentially close, the +girl looking up at the man, the man looking down at the girl. As the +conversation was now only of Valinski's dress designs, not Severance's +plans, Marise had a sub-eyelash glance or so to spare for the couple. +Well, certainly Samson was a creditable actor, or else....</p> + +<p>"They were all so lovely I dared not choose," Mums was expatiating. "I +said to Miss Marks, 'Suppose we run back in the taxi and let my daughter +select? Or, she may want to order more than one of the gowns.' So I +slipped the designs back into the portfolio Mr. Valinski had taken them +from, and asked permission to borrow the lot. Lord Severance must tell +us which he prefers. He's such a good judge! And Miss Marks can carry +back the portfolio, with a note from me to Valinski, when she goes."</p> + +<p>The three heads—Tony's glossy black, Marise Sorel's glittering gold, +her mother's a rich, expensive brown—bent together above a trio of +water-colour sketches. Under cover of selection Severance whispered: "I +have some bad news. Marise knows it. But I've got to have a talk with +you both before I leave this room. I can't bear suspense. For heaven's +sake get rid of people as early as you can."</p> + +<p>"Must talk to them both.... Couldn't bear suspense!" The woman agreed +with the girl in thinking there was but one interpretation for this!</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best," murmured Mrs. Sorel, and resolved to begin the good +work by bustling Miss Marks and Major Garth off the moment the tea-gown +business was finished. In the midst, however, Mrs. Dunstan Belloc +breezed in with her pretty sister and Belloc's millionaire backer. Mary +Sorel moved to meet them with the manner she had copied from Tony's +great-aunt, the Duchess of Crownderby. So doing, she slipped Valinski's +portfolio into her daughter's hands with an unduchess-like, "Hurry up +and choose, and have done with it!"</p> + +<p>Somehow, Marise had not the proper new-dress thrill this afternoon. She +languidly decided on a classic design which Severance liked, and +Valinski had named "Galatea."</p> + +<p>"Put the others back in the portfolio, please, Tony," she said. "I must +go and help Mums"—but the microbe of accidents was running amok in the +Sorels' salon. Tony dropped the book, and the Pole's designs fluttered +about the room. Everybody squealed and began picking up papers. One had +fallen on the remains of the Sèvres box, as if to hide the wreckage. +Garth was nearest the scene of his own disaster. He stooped. Marise +seized the chance for a word with him. She stooped also. Each grasped +the sketch, which came face uppermost; and under their eyes was the +design for the blue and silver gown sent by the Unknown.</p> + +<p>Zoyo Valinski had made that dress, then, and sacrificed an advertisement +to keep Garth's secret! Zoyo Valinski lived in the house with Miss +Marks, and was recommended by her. H'm! H'm!</p> + +<p>These thoughts jostled each other in the brain of Marise, and brought in +their train another. Naturally Garth had not been shocked at her fib. He +didn't know it was a fib! The surprise was only that Miss Sorel had hit +on the truth and used it so glibly.</p> + +<p>"That Marks girl helped him choose the things," she told herself. And +she was as much annoyed as puzzled. She wished to fling at Garth: "You +sent her to our hotel manager to ask for my work. Why, she's simply +spying on me, for you!"</p> + +<p>But she said nothing of the sort. Indeed, she had no time. Seeing Marise +and the Bounder together, Mary Sorel flew to part them. "Miss Marks +wants me to say she'll be ready to go in a few minutes," the anxious +lady encouraged Garth. "She's been captured by Mrs. Belloc. It seems she +did secretarial work for her once. Come, and I'll introduce you. I've +just told Mrs. Belloc that you are <i>the</i> V.C."</p> + +<p>It was half an hour before the man's martyrdom was ended. The worst had +been suffered at the beginning, when he was the third in a reluctant +trio. But it was all bad enough. He was as well suited to this jewel-box +of a salon as a bull is to a china shop, and he had done nearly as much +damage. He didn't know what to say to Mrs. Belloc or her smart, +chattering friends, and they didn't know what to say to him. Even a +Victoria Cross couldn't excuse such taste in clothes as his! The big +fellow's necktie was a scream; his gloves (no other man kept on gloves!) +a yell; and his boots—literally—a squeak. That was the description of +him which Mrs. Belloc planned for the entertainment of her husband, and +Garth saw it developing behind her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Give me the trenches!" he thought, when at last Miss Marks wriggled +free of the actor-manager's wife. He still hated Marise as much as he +loved her. Yet when he said "Good-bye" he did not mean it for farewell. +He determined ferociously that he would see her again. "Next time," he +resolved, "I won't knock over any tables. I'll turn them. I'll turn the +tables my way perhaps, and against that damned pig of an earl!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>WHAT THE STAR SAID</h3> + + +<p>"Thank Heaven she's gone, and it's ten minutes past!" fervently sighed +Mrs. Sorel, as the door closed behind a guest she had kissed warmly on +both cheeks. "Céline, 'phone down and tell them not to send anyone else +up, no matter who. We needn't be 'at home' a second after six."</p> + +<p>She and Marise and Severance now had the sitting-room to themselves. The +girl, who had been too busy feeding others to eat anything herself, +selected a macaroon from a half-empty dish and nibbled it prettily. +Severance regarded the charming creature with clouded eyes, wondering +how much appetite their talk would leave her.</p> + +<p>"How dear of you to stay and see us through!" cooed Mary, as if she had +not known Severance's impatience equal to her own. She did this to lead +up to her own tactful exit; and the mere male swallowed her bait without +suspicion.</p> + +<p>"See you through?" he echoed. "Why, I've been hanging on by my eyelids, +waiting for my chance with you and Marise."</p> + +<p>"Unless it's something you need me for," the chaperon said sweetly, +"perhaps I might leave you to Marise's tender mercies. I'm a little +tired——"</p> + +<p>"I do need you," Severance assured her. "I don't dare to say what I've +got to say to Marise alone. If I did, she might misunderstand. I can't +risk that. Mrs. Sorel, this talk means everything to me. You're my +friend. Promise <i>you</i> won't misunderstand."</p> + +<p>Mary Sorel retained a fixed, kind smile; but she had a sickly sensation +under her Empire waistband, as if something inside had melted and then +cooled. She glanced at Marise, to judge if the girl had been in any way +prepared for this queer outbreak. No, evidently not! The blue eyes +looked large and suddenly scared. Marise stopped eating the macaroon, +and, going slowly to the table, she laid the nibbled remnant on somebody +else's plate.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course I'll stop," Mary said. "I'm not so tired as to desert +you when you flatter me like that."</p> + +<p>"I'm not flattering, I'm depending on you." Never before, in her +acquaintance with him, had the voice of Severance betrayed such +agitation. Mary braced herself against a blow; but the melting thing +inside began to congeal like cold candle-grease. Her knees felt like +water. Still smiling, she sank rather than sat on a sofa, and held up +her hand to Marise.</p> + +<p>"If Lord Severance has a confession to make, we'd better sit together in +judgment," she proposed. "We'll be kind judges, and this shall be our +throne."</p> + +<p>"Call it an appeal—a prayer—not a confession," Severance said. "If I'd +ever prayed to God as I'm going to pray to you both, maybe I'd not be in +the fix I'm in now."</p> + +<p>"One would think you were afraid of us!" quavered Marise.</p> + +<p>"I am," he admitted. "I was never in such a blue funk in my life. My +legs are like poached eggs without toast."</p> + +<p>The girl laughed nervously. "You'd better sit down," she advised.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't to save my life. Might as well ask a chap on the rack to +sing 'Araby.'"</p> + +<p>"You're really frightening us!" Mary's tone was shrill. "Have Bolsheviks +blown up your family castles? Have you lost all your money? Aren't you +the true heir to the title?"</p> + +<p>"I'm the heir right enough," Severance took her seriously. "And I +haven't got any money—worth calling money. There's the rub! Marise, you +know I love you?"</p> + +<p>The girl caught her breath. "Why—sometimes I've thought so."</p> + +<p>"You've known it, as well as you know you're alive. If I hadn't come +into the beastly title I'd have asked you to marry me long ago. It was +your own fault I didn't ask you, before my Cousin Eric died—the first +one of the lot to go. You used to snub me every time I tried to speak of +marrying. You didn't want to make up your mind!"</p> + +<p>"No, honestly, I didn't," she confessed. "I liked you a whole lot, Tony, +but—I wasn't quite sure—of either of us, you see, and——"</p> + +<p>"You might have been sure of me! I couldn't look at any woman except +you."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't that sort of thing—exactly. People—cats!—used to put such +horrid ideas into my head."</p> + +<p>"What ideas?"</p> + +<p>"I simply can't tell you, Tony. Don't ask me, please."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well!" he flung out. "It doesn't matter much now what ideas you had +then. Do you love me to-day, Marise?"</p> + +<p>"I—think I do—a little," she almost whispered, as her parent's arm +(twined round her waist) pressed painfully against her side.</p> + +<p>"A little isn't enough!" Severance said. "It must be a big love to stand +the strain."</p> + +<p>"The strain of what?" Mary, as a mother, intervened.</p> + +<p>"Of the sacrifice I'm going to ask—to beg, to implore—her to make."</p> + +<p>"Sacrifice? Do you mean anything about money?" Mrs. Sorel wanted to +know. "You were quite right in calling me your friend. I can assure you +it would be a joy to Marise if, in your trouble, her money——"</p> + +<p>"The trouble's worse than money."</p> + +<p>"Tell us quickly," the girl bade him. "You said you couldn't bear +suspense. Neither can I bear it. We're both fond of you, Tony—Mums and +I. What hurts you, hurts us." And her tingling brain suddenly, +inappropriately, gave her a picture of Garth, as he had stood tall and +stiff against the door. He, too, had said, in vibrating tones, that he +loved her. He had begged her to give him a chance; implored that she +would let him try to be worthy. As if, poor fellow, he ever could come +up to her standard! What girl of her breeding would think of him twice +when there were blue-blooded, perfectly-groomed Greek gods like Tony +Severance on earth? Mentally she whistled John Garth, V.C., down the +wind to low-lying valleys peopled with girls like Miss Marks.</p> + +<p>Tony was pale with the dusky pallor of olive complexions; his pleading +eyes were like velvet with diamonds glittering through. She had never +realised how he loved her—he, whom so many women worshipped. She felt +that she loved him dearly, too. For the first time her heart was stirred +warmly by his extraordinary good looks.</p> + +<p>"You know all about my Uncle Constantine, my mother's half-brother," he +said, leaning on the mantelpiece and nervously lighting a cigarette +(Mrs. Sorel and Marise permitted this; even smoked with him now and +then). "Well, Uncle Con had very little use for me till by a fluke I got +the title. I never expected a penny of his money, though he was my +mother's guardian before she ran away with my father. He thought I was a +rotter, and didn't mind my knowing his opinion. He didn't exactly forbid +me his house in London, for he'd been fond of mother in his hard way, +but he gave me no encouragement to come. His vacillation was because of +my cousin Œnone. Did I ever speak of her to you?"</p> + +<p>"You may have mentioned her," said Marise. "But, of course, we knew of +her existence. There are always things in the papers about people with +such incredible stacks of millions as the Ionides family have. She's a +'poor little rich girl,' isn't she? An invalid—something the matter +with her spine?"</p> + +<p>"She is an invalid," Severance answered. "But as years go, she isn't a +'little girl' any more. She's close on twenty-two. I doubt if she'll +ever see twenty-three in this world."</p> + +<p>"Pathetic!" sympathised Marise. "All that money couldn't give her +happiness!"</p> + +<p>"She thinks," said Severance sullenly, "that only one thing can give her +happiness—marrying me."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" gasped Mrs. Sorel. Her blood flew to her head. Was he +asking Marise to love him, only to break the news that she was to be +jilted?</p> + +<p>"Œnone has cared, since she was a tiny child," Severance stumbled +gloomily on. "It really was pathetic, then. When she began to grow up +(not much in size, poor girl, but in years, you know), Uncle Con would +have shut the door on me if he hadn't been afraid Œnone would die of +grief. He thought me cad enough to cook up some plot, and contrive to +marry the girl behind his back—for her millions. But when I got the +earldom, a change came o'er the spirit of his dream.... He's a born +snob, is my half-Uncle Constantine! He always loved a title, and hoped +he could squeeze one for himself out of some British Government, but +he's never succeeded, so far. Instead of chasing me away with a stick, +he invited me to come as often as possible. And just before you arranged +to sail he made me a definite offer."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean——" Mary Sorel broke down in the midst of her sentence.</p> + +<p>"I do. He said if I would marry Œnone, and 'make his daughter a +countess' (real old melodrama stuff!) he'd settle a million pounds on +me, on our wedding-day. Also, I'd inherit Œnone's private fortune. +Darling Marise, dear Mrs. Sorel, if you knew all the money troubles I've +had, and have still, you'd forgive me if I told you this was a +temptation."</p> + +<p>"But you didn't yield?" Mary prompted.</p> + +<p>"No-o. Because Marise was sailing for the States, and I couldn't let her +come over here without me, to be gobbled up by some beastly American +millionaire. I had to be with her. I had to!"</p> + +<p>"That is real love," cried Mary. "I'm proud of you."</p> + +<p>"I'm not proud of myself," he mumbled. "I got that bally mission. I +persuaded Uncle Con to believe—at least I hope he more or less +believed!—that it was thrust on me, instead of my doing all I knew to +bag it. I told him I'd decide directly I returned to England—which +would be soon. But it hasn't been soon. He's a man who gets inside +information about official things. He knows the mission is finished, and +I could go home any day I liked. Presently, if I'm not jolly careful, +he'll find out why I don't like. Then my goose will be cooked. +Marise—Mrs. Sorel—I simply can't afford to have that happen."</p> + +<p>"What do you propose to do?" Mary challenged him, dry-lipped.</p> + +<p>The black eyes blazed despair. "What can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Tony," said Marise softly, "I've got 'normous lots of money saved up; +'most two hundred thousand dollars. You don't need to grovel in the dust +to any old Greek banker, if he is your uncle. So there!"</p> + +<p>"My poor, sweet baby," groaned Severance. "What's two hundred thousand +dollars? Fifty thousand pounds, isn't it? That's pin money for you and +your mother; and you go on making more while you stay on the stage, as a +spider winds silvery thread out of itself. But for me it's not nearly +enough, as things are now. It wouldn't save the situation. I've come +into more than that amount with the estates. It's a drop in the bucket, +I find. The fellows behind me in the succession resigned themselves to +poverty. I can't, for the best of reasons. I'm in a beastly +moneylender's hands. I began by owing him ten thousand pounds. It's more +like eighty thousand to-day. Now, maybe, you see where we stand."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't see yet, where we are concerned," Mary objected. "You said +you'd some suggestion—some proposal to make. But if Manse's money isn't +enough to——"</p> + +<p>"It isn't, even if I could take it."</p> + +<p>"And if you're considering the idea of marrying your cousin——"</p> + +<p>"I've got to marry her. That's all there is to it. I've realised it +since a heart-to-heart talk old Con forced me to have with him a +fortnight before we sailed. I saw that some day this thing would have to +happen."</p> + +<p>"Then where—does Marise come in?" Mary suddenly bristled like a +mother-porcupine.</p> + +<p>For a moment Severance did not speak. It seemed that he could not. His +gaze turned first to Marise, then to Mary. Could it be possible that +those black eyes of his glittered with starting tears?</p> + +<p>"I'm going to tell you," he said slowly, at last. "I want to tell you on +my knees. It's the only way a man could dare to say a thing like this to +a girl like Marise—to a woman like you, Mrs. Sorel."</p> + +<p>He did not wait for a word from either, but dropped to one knee, and +threw his arms about both women as they clung nervously together. They +could feel the throb of blood in his muscles. His face was no longer +merely handsome; it was beautiful with a tragic, Greek beauty. The look +in his eyes (Mary thought vaguely, as one thinks under a light dose of +ether) would touch a heart of stone.</p> + +<p>"I've got to marry Œnone," he repeated, "or come the worst cropper of +any Severance for a century. If I'd never met you, Marise, I'd have done +it without a qualm. Œnone's a nice little thing—not the sort to keep +a man in leading-strings because she holds the purse. I could have +amused myself without much fear that she'd fuss—or tell tales to her +father. But when a man loves a woman as I love you, it changes his +outlook. I must see you. I must be with you. I can't live away from you +for long."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you'll have to when you've married Miss Ionides," Mary's +frozen voice warned him.</p> + +<p>"Wait! Listen to my plan. I've only just thoroughly worked it out. +I——"</p> + +<p>"Yet you told us a minute ago that you'd decided on this marriage before +sailing."</p> + +<p>"That's true. But don't be so hard on me. You promised to be kind +judges. Put yourself in my place, if you can, Mrs. Sorel. My love for +your girl is more than love. It's a flame—a driving passion. Can a man +reason coldly when his blood, and his brain too, are on fire! I had to +come with her to New York. I couldn't look ahead further than that. I +mean to make some plan, and God knows I've tried, day and night. I've +thought of little else. But every idea I had was shut up inside what +they call a 'vicious circle.' I could see no way out that Marise would +accept—or you would let her accept. Then this last cable of old Con's +came to-day, while I was at Belloc's. It is a kind of ultimatum. I know +he means me to understand that. You can see it if you like—only let me +go on now—as I'm started. It would be worse beginning again. He says +he's down with 'flu, and Œnone is ill too, and he must see me to +'settle the matter under discussion, or it may be too late.' Those are +his words. They're a threat. By Jove, it was a douche, reading that in +the midst of a jolly luncheon! I saw stars: but one of them has sent me +a ray of light. I almost prayed to get its message. First time I've +prayed since I was in the nursery! Yet here I am on my knees to you +both, to tell you what the star said.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Con may have 'flu, and he may die, but he's sure to tie +everything up tight. I'm marked for slaughter. There's no squirming out. +But poor Œnone can't live long, even if she gets the toy she wants to +play with—me. Her father doesn't thoroughly realise that she's doomed, +but her doctors do. One of them is a friend of mine. He told me. She's +got some queer kind of incipient tuberculosis, and chronic anæmia. +Happiness—such as I can give her—will only be a flash in the pan. I'll +be more of a nurse than a husband. Well, I'm willing to go through all +that, and do my honest best for her, while she lives. But if <i>I'm</i> to +live, I can't be separated for a year—or at worst, let's say two +years—from the light of my life, the core of my heart. I must be able +to meet Marise, to have her society, her friendship—by God, I swear I +mean no evil! I must have something, I tell you, if I'm to get through +that probation. Well, I see as clearly as you both see that we must have +no scandal—for her sake—and for mine, too—and even for Œnone's. I +don't want to distress the poor little thing! So here's the plan that +jumped into my brain ready made. Don't cut me short—don't tell me to +stop before I've explained—before I've got to the end."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Mary Sorel, in a strained voice. Marise did not speak. She +felt dazed, as if she were in a feverish dream.</p> + +<p>"Suppose I marry; suppose I bring my—suppose I bring Œnone (I can +hardly call her a 'wife') over to America for a change of air, a tonic. +She'd like that. She's always wanted to travel, but her father had no +time; and she wouldn't have been happy with paid guardians. I'd paint a +glowing picture of California—or Arizona: they say it's great out there +for tubercular people. Even Œnone's own father would approve of such +a trip if—if Marise were supposed to be out of the running. Don't +speak! I'm going to explain! What I mean is this....</p> + +<p>"Old Con is the opposite of a mole. He knows I've been a different man +this last year. He ferreted out the truth somehow—did it himself, or +with a detective's help. Probably himself: he's that kind. He doesn't +trust his secrets to others. He didn't object openly to my American +mission. In a way, it was an honour. But, of course, he learned that I +was sailing on the ship with you two. He hasn't given me a day's rest +since we landed. I wired I'd had 'flu. (I did get a cold last week!) +Then he took a leaf out of my book. Now he's developed the disease! If +Marise were acting in New York and touring the States, he'd smell a rat +if I prescribed America for my bride's health. But if Marise were +married to another man, and had left the stage——"</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" Mary bounded on the sofa, and gasped aloud. But +Severance pressed her down with a strong arm.</p> + +<p>"You promised to let me finish!" he urged. "Now you'll begin to +understand why I wouldn't say all this to Marise alone. Asking you to be +with us proves my respect for her—for you both. This isn't only the +plea of a desperate man—though it's that first of all! It's a business +proposition. The day I marry Œnone Ionides, I become master of a +million pounds. That's five million dollars. One million of those five +million dollars I would offer to a—dummy husband for Marise. Let me go +on! A man who'd understand that he was to be a figurehead, and nothing +more. You'd say—if you'd say anything—that only a cur in the gutter +would take such a position, and a cur in the gutter would be of no use +to us. To rise above suspicion—even old Con's suspicion!—He'd have to +be a decent sort of chap to all appearances, a man who might attract a +girl—even a girl like Marise. He'd have to have some money of his own +already, and some sort of standing. With that in his favour, the world +and my uncle would accept him as a husband Miss Sorel might choose. Such +a person could be found—for a million dollars. I know men of all sorts, +and I guarantee that. With a million dollars behind her, Marise could +give up the stage—she'd do that, anyhow, if she married me. She could +travel west with her dummy husband (and her mother, of course, that goes +without saying!) By that time, I'd be over here again with poor +Œnone. We could all meet—by accident. In England, even that might +make talk. England's too small for us. But over here, in a big free +country—especially out west—it would be safe. We should see each +other, Marise and I. And I'd ask no more than that. For a while I could +live on the sight of her—and hope. When Œnone's little spark of life +burns out, as it must before long, with the best of care possible, +Marise at once divorces her dummy. He gives her technical cause, of +course. That's part of the bargain I make with my million. No breath of +scandal against Marise! And, a few months later, she and I are married. +There's only this short road of red-hot ploughshares for us both to +tread. Then, instead of marrying a pauper, such as I am now, and both of +us battening on her bank account—she'd perhaps be forced to go back on +the stage to keep the pot boiling—my darling girl finds herself the +wife of a very rich man, one of the richest peers in Great Britain. For +in addition to old Con's million pounds, I should have Œnone's +private fortune. He has agreed to that, with her, in the event of her +death, which he hopes may be long delayed by happiness, and which I know +won't—can't possibly be.... There! I've finished at last! The only +thing left is for me to tell you over again that my life depends on your +decision. I believe I'll kill myself if the answer is 'No.'"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>SOMETHING OUT OF ANCIENT ROME</h3> + + +<p>The hot torrent of words ceased. There was silence in the gaily-tinted, +flower-filled salon, save for the tick of an absurd Louis Seize clock on +the mantel. Under the gilt wheel of Time a cupid balanced back and +forth, in a Rhinestone swing—"Yes," "No," the seesaw motion seemed to +say.</p> + +<p>The stillness was terrible to Severance. He did not get up from his +knees. He did not release the women's waists from the girdle of his +arms. His eyes were on the face of Marise. Never had he seen her so +pale.</p> + +<p>"For God's sake, speak!—one of you," he stammered.</p> + +<p>Abruptly the girl pushed his arm away, and sprang to her feet.</p> + +<p>"You are wicked!" she cried. "Horrible! It can't be true that this has +happened to me. It's a nightmare. I want to wake up!"</p> + +<p>Severance abandoned his prayerful position and faced her. He would have +caught her hands, but she thrust him back with violence.</p> + +<p>"I thought you were a modern Englishman, like other Englishmen—like all +other decent men I've known. But you're not," she panted. "You're +something out of the Middle Ages. No! you're before that You're of +Ancient Rome—the time of the Borgias. Or Beatrice Cenci."</p> + +<p>"Don't, don't, Marise, my child!" Mary joined soothing with command. +"You'll make yourself ill. We must be calm. We must think."</p> + +<p>"Think?" the girl repeated. "What is there to think about? Surely you +don't suggest that I should 'reflect'—that I should study whether to +accept or not such a—bargain?"</p> + +<p>"That's a hard word!" Severance pleaded. "And as for Ancient Rome, I +should say that it and modern Britain—or France—or even your own +America—are the same at bed-rock. We're all volcanoes with our lava +cooled a bit on the surface by laws—or civilisation. Human passions +don't change; and the strongest of them is love. Anyhow, it is so with +me. I'm half Greek, you know, and my English half is half Spanish."</p> + +<p>"Dearest, when I tell you to 'think,' of course it depends on whether +you love Tony or not," Mary Sorel reminded her daughter. But even she +did not dare touch Marise at that moment. It would have been much like +trying to pat a young, unfed leopardess. She, always keeping on the +conventional side, had never before called Severance "Tony" to his face. +As a parched patch of earth thirstily sucks in the least drop of dew, he +caught at this sign of grace, and thanked his stars that he had made a +reckless bid for Mary's friendship. She adored England and old English +customs; above all, old English titles. In the midst of gratitude, the +man knew her for a snob, and counted on the sacrifice she would offer +the god of Snobbery. If anyone could help him, she could. If any counsel +could prevail with the hurt, humiliated, angry girl, it would be her +mother's.</p> + +<p>"Do you love him?" Mary persevered, when Marise kept silence behind a +bitten red lip.</p> + +<p>"I did love him. I thought I did."</p> + +<p>"Darling, I know you loved him, and do love him. You're suffering now. +But, remember poor Tony is suffering too."</p> + +<p>"Poor Tony!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, poor Tony. He has gone through a great deal, and has kept it in, +hoping against hope. He didn't speak out till there seemed to be no more +hope—except in this one way. I told you, even on shipboard, I felt he +was living under some strain. I'm a woman, and your mother. I'd be the +first on earth to resent the slightest insult to you, if it were meant. +But just because I'm a woman, who has lived through a woman's experience +of life and love—love of husband—love of child—I recognise sincerity +by instinct. Severance is truly sincere. He worships you, and if he has +been carried away, it is by worship. Don't drive him to desperation by +refusing to forgive him, whatever else you may decide to do."</p> + +<p>"It rests with you, Marise, whether I live or die," Severance was now +encouraged to plead.</p> + +<p>The girl's lips trembled. "Oh, if only I could wake up!" she cried. +Tears poured over her cheeks. Mary caught the shaking figure to her +breast. The two wept together.</p> + +<p>"We must—must face things!" Mary let herself sob. "I'm afraid we <i>are</i> +awake—wider awake than we've ever been in our happy life these last +three years. We took the pleasant side of things for granted. As they +say over here, we're 'up against' the grim side now. If you love Tony +only half as much as he loves you, why, it seems to me you ought—indeed +it's your duty to your future—to think twice before sending him out +into darkness, with no light of hope."</p> + +<p>"Things like my plan often happen to people, just by accident," said +Tony. "A man who loves one girl has to marry another. His wife dies. +Meanwhile, the first girl has taken a husband—perhaps out of pique. +He's a rotter. She divorces him. Then the pair who've loved each other +are free to be happy ever after. If they're rich, too, so much the +better for them! They don't feel guilty. Why should they? They've +nothing to feel guilty about. Why should it be so appalling if a man, to +save his soul and his love, plans out something of this sort, instead of +blundering into it? I can't see any reason. Aren't you being a +Pharisee—or a hypocrite, Marise?"</p> + +<p>"Aren't <i>you</i> being a Joseph Surface?" she flung back. "Perhaps I never +told you that I played 'Lady Teazle,' and got a prize at my dramatic +school. So I know all about the 'consciousness of innocence.'"</p> + +<p>The girl spoke stormily. Her eyes blazed at the man through tears. Yet +he and Mary both knew from her words—her tone—that in spite of herself +she had begun to "think."</p> + +<p>"Joseph Surface was a cold snake," said Tony. "At worst I'm not that, or +I wouldn't be ready to wade through fire and water to win you at last."</p> + +<p>"No, you're not a cold snake," Marise agreed. And the eyes of Severance +and Mrs. Sorel met, as the girl dashed a handkerchief across hers. +Mary's glance telegraphed Tony, "This sad business may come right, after +all!" "You had better leave us, my friend," she said aloud. "Marise and +I will at least talk this over—thrash it out, and——"</p> + +<p>"A thrashing is just what it deserves," the girl snapped. "A thorough +thrashing!"</p> + +<p>"It shall have it," Mums soothed her patiently. "But we may think——"</p> + +<p>"Even if we did think," Marise broke out, with a sudden flash at +Severance, "what good would it do? Even if I were willing—though I +can't conceive it! What use would that be? You can't kindle a fire +without a match. There isn't a man living who'd be the match. A dummy +match!"</p> + +<p>"You forget the million dollars," Severance said.</p> + +<p>"I don't. But you admitted yourself, he must at least seem a decent man, +or the scheme would fail. No decent man——"</p> + +<p>"Some smart actor who fancies himself, and dreams of having his own New +York theatre," cried Severance, inspired. "With a million dollars——"</p> + +<p>"He'd want me to stay on the stage and star with him——"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, some inventor who'd sell his soul to have his invention +taken up. A million dol——"</p> + +<p>The phrase called back an echo in the girl's mind. "I'd sell my soul!" +What man had used those words to her that day—an hour ago?...</p> + +<p>Marise laughed out aloud. "An inventor!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it's easy +to generalise—to suggest someone—anyone—vaguely, in a world of men. +But if I should name one—if I should say, 'Here's the man,' you would +shudder. The thought of him in flesh and blood as my husband—dummy or +no dummy—would drive you mad—if you really love me."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't let it drive me mad," Severance swore. "I'd control +myself—and control the man, too."</p> + +<p>"You would? Suppose I name your <i>bête noire</i>, Major John Garth?"</p> + +<p>Severance withered visibly. "Garth wouldn't do it," he stammered.</p> + +<p>"There you are!" sneered Marise. But she began to experience a very +extraordinary sensation. It was composed of obstinacy, anger, vanity, +recklessness, resentment, and several fierce sub-emotions, none of which +she made the slightest effort to analyse. Tony Severance believed that +his passion for her excused everything, because he thought it stronger +than any other man living had ever felt. But there was another man, one +at least—who thought and said the same thing of himself.</p> + +<p>Much as Tony hated and pretended to despise John Garth, without stopping +to reflect an instant he set the Bounder aside as one among a few men +who wouldn't stoop—who couldn't be tempted—to play so low a part as +that of a "dummy husband." Was Tony right? Or was the man he discarded +the very one who would marry her at any price? Dimly she wondered in a +sullen and heavy curiosity.</p> + +<p>"There are plenty of other fellows—of sorts—to choose from, without +dragging in Garth," Severance went on. "Give me leave, Marise (give me +new life, by giving me leave!), to find such a man. If I must go without +finding one here, I will search England. Or I can put it in the hands +of——"</p> + +<p>"No!" shrilled Mary. "In no hands but our own."</p> + +<p>"I wash mine of it!" cried Marise.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will think it over—the pros and cons—with me, dear," +coaxed her mother. "The wonderful future you could have with Tony, when +the clouds should pass and all those millions——"</p> + +<p>The girl shrugged her shoulders. And turning without another word, she +whirled away to her room. It would not have been true to nature if she +hadn't slammed the door!</p> + +<p>Mary prepared to follow. "Go, Tony," she ordered. "Leave the poor child +to me. All this is awful—terrible! But it isn't as if we were wishing +for Miss Ionides' death. If she's doomed.... Oh, I hear Marise crying! +Go at once—please!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>THE THING SHE COULD NOT EXPLAIN</h3> + + +<p>Marise and Mary Sorel talked late that night in the girl's room. The +family breadwinner—always indulged—had not been so petted, so spoiled, +since she was threatened with <i>grippe</i> in the first week of her great +London triumph. In those days she had shone as a bright planet rather +than a fixed star. The proud but anxious mother had feared that some +understudy might mine the new favourite's success, as Marise had mined +the toppling fame of Elsa Fortescue. The invalid had been surrounded +with the warmth of mother-love, caressed, almost hypnotised back to +health, and after a worrying day of high temperature had been encouraged +to the theatre without giving the understudy even one night's chance. +This, although that young woman was dressed and painted for the part!</p> + +<p>So it was again on this fateful Sunday in New York, although the most +wily Vivien of an understudy could now safely be defied.</p> + +<p>Mary went in to Marise the moment Severance had gone. She kissed and +cooed over her child. She flattered her. She told her that she was +beautiful and brave—<i>too</i> beautiful! Men loved her too much. Mums +warded off an impending attack of hysterics which Marise had been +longing to have, and would have enjoyed. She said that her girl's tears +burned her heart. She kept Céline away and undressed Marise herself, +with purrings and pettings as if the girl had been three instead of +twenty-three.</p> + +<p>Never was a bed so sweetly smoothed to the downiness of a swan's breast! +The pillows were plumped almost with a prayer, that they might yield +soft rest to the aching head. Finally, Marise—conscious of all Mums' +guile, yet dreamily content with it—was tucked in between the scented +sheets, her "nighty" put on by Mums; her long hair brushed and braided +by Mums, as no French maid could ever braid or brush.</p> + +<p>"Don't think of anything yet," the loving voice soothed. "Just bask, and +let your poor old Mums watch over you. Forget you're grown up. Be +Mummie's baby girl again."</p> + +<p>Marise was not of a temperament to hold out against these charms and +woven spells. She cuddled down in bed, and felt an angel child. When +Mums herself brought in a tray containing a few exquisite little dishes, +she ate, though she had expected—even intended—to starve herself for +days. Then when one glass of iced champagne (she didn't touch wine twice +a year) and a tiny cup of Turkish coffee had brightened her spirits, +"poor old Mums" (looking thirty-five at most, and mild as a trained +dove) brought cigarettes for both. After that, they drifted into talk of +the future, rather than driving stormily into the teeth of it, like +tempest-tossed leaves.</p> + +<p>Mary confessed that, if she were in her daughter's place, it would be +anguish to give up such a wonderful, gorgeous young man. And then, he +was so handsome! No one could compare with him in looks. What eyes! They +were pools of ink, on fire! She had never known what tragedy human eyes +could express till she had gazed into those of Lord Severance to-day. +They had frightened her! If she hadn't sent the man away with a grain of +hope she believed that by this time he would be dead, his brains blown +out. One didn't take such threats from most people seriously. But Tony +was different. It was true, as he said; love was his life—love for this +one dear girl. What Mums felt was, that <i>she</i> couldn't have resisted +him, at her daughter's age. Few women could. Few women would!</p> + +<p>By this time, Marise being ready for arguments, her mother engaged in a +fencing match, at first with a button on her foil, then with the point +gleaming bare. Boldly she talked of what Severance (enriched by his +uncle and a dead wife's will) would have to offer. Was he, and all that +would be his, to be thrown away for a scruple? A millionaire earl? A +unique person?</p> + +<p>About two a.m. Marise agreed to Mary's many-times-reiterated wish that +she would "think things over"; and promptly fell into a sleep so sound +that she looked like a beautiful dead girl.</p> + +<p>Miss Marks was sent away next morning by Mrs. Sorel, because "My +daughter has had a bad night, and mustn't be disturbed." It was not +until eleven o'clock that Marise waked suddenly in her darkened room, as +if a voice had called her name. She sat up in bed, dazed. Whose voice +was it? Or was it only a voice in a dream? Thinking back, it came to her +that she had been dreaming of John Garth—"Samson." With an "Oh!" that +revolted against life as it must be lived, she flung herself down again, +and remembered everything. For an hour her body lay motionless: but mind +and soul moved far. When Mums tapped lightly at the door, and peeped in +to inquire, "Do you feel like waking up, pet, and having me bring you a +cup of delicious hot coffee? It's twelve o'clock!" she answered quietly, +"Yes, I've been awake a long time. I'd love some coffee."</p> + +<p>Mary brought it herself—and a covered plate of buttered toast. She +asked no question except, "Is your head better, darling?" until pale, +composed Marise had bathed, and been dressed with the aid of Céline. +Then Mums chirped cheerfully, "Well, what are you going to do to-day? +Anything important?"</p> + +<p>"It may be important," said Marise. "I don't know yet—till I've talked +with him. It depends on what he says. He may say nothing. He may just +bash me over the head and stalk away. He'd be capable of that."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" Mary implored. "Are you speaking of Tony?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no! Of a very different man. Of Major Garth."</p> + +<p>"Marise! What are you going to do?"</p> + +<p>The girl turned from her dressing-table to face her mother. "What you've +been goading me on, all last night, to do. What I shall be perfectly mad +if I <i>do</i> do! Now, please, don't say any more—unless you want me to +scream. I'm keeping myself calm. I'd better stay calm—till after."</p> + +<p>Mary's breast heaved. She breathed back her emotions, as one checks a +cough. "You—talk the way you sometimes do after a dress rehearsal!" she +tried to laugh. "Before a big first night."</p> + +<p>"That's the way I feel," said Marise. "Like before the biggest first +night that ever was. Or before the Judgment Day."</p> + +<p>She knew that John Garth was staying at the Belmore. She had seen that +item in the papers—had seen it in the same day's papers which had +informed Garth that Miss Sorel was an actress. The girl began a letter, +but tore it up. Then she thought of the telephone. Two minutes later she +heard Garth's voice: "Hello! who is this talking?"</p> + +<p>"Marise Sorel—calling you from the Plaza. Can you come over?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. When?"</p> + +<p>"Now."</p> + +<p>"I'll be there as soon as a taxi can bring me."</p> + +<p>"Good!"</p> + +<p>Yet she knew that it was far from good.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"The Spring Song!—The Spring Song!"</p> + +<p>The name of Marise Sorel's play sang itself over and over in Garth's +brain to wild, strange music, as the taxi flashed him to the Plaza; for +there was spring in the air, in the bursting buds on the trees in the +park—and in his breast. She must have changed her mind. She must mean +to give him some hope, or she wouldn't have sent for him to come back. +That would be too cruel—even for her, as he had thought her yesterday, +when there was no spring, only winter in his heart and soul.</p> + +<p>It was not till he had been rushed up in the lift, and a page-boy had +knocked at the door, that the hope seemed too good to be true. Perhaps +she merely wished to apologise for being rude? Yet—even that would be +better than nothing. It was what he hadn't dared expect—being sent for +again. He had resolved to see her in spite of herself, but she was +making things easy. This time, not Céline, but Marise herself opened the +door. The sight of her gave the man a shock of joy, though she hardly +looked him in the face.</p> + +<p>"You're very kind to be so prompt," she glossed over the surface of +their emotions. "Come in. I—I've something special to say to you."</p> + +<p>"So I judged," he helped her out.</p> + +<p>"We shan't be disturbed by anyone to-day. I've arranged that."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad."</p> + +<p>She sat down with her back to the light and made him take a chair facing +the window. He knew too little of women to realise that this was +deliberate; but he noticed that she seemed more of a woman, less of a +girl to-day. Perhaps, he thought, this was because she wore a black +dress. It was filmy and becoming to her fairness; but it made her +graver, more dignified. As for Marise, she liked his looks better this +afternoon. He had not had time to "dress himself up"; and his morning +suit of tweed was not objectionable. She remembered once arguing with +Severance that the "Blighter" might be distinguished-looking, even +handsome, if decently dressed. She was in a fair way to be proved right +to-day, but she was in no mood for self-congratulation. The man's +personality didn't matter in the least, she told herself. Yet she was +subconsciously burning with curiosity concerning him.</p> + +<p>"First of all—before we start on our real talk, I'd like to ask you a +question," she began. "Did you send Miss Marks here, to—" ("to spy," +she had almost said!)—"to try and get work as my secretary?"</p> + +<p>"I did not," promptly replied Garth.</p> + +<p>"But you knew her—before yesterday."</p> + +<p>"I knew her out in Arizona, before the war. She'd written me since she +was working at the Belmore. That was how I happened to think of going +there before I went over to England in 1914. She's a good stenographer, +and a good girl. Since I landed she's done a lot of letters for me, and +done them very well."</p> + +<p>"She's clever!" admitted Marise. "I asked, because I never quite +understood now she happened to come here to see if I wanted a secretary. +Besides, there's something in her manner—the way she looks at me—I +hardly know what—but as if she had reasons of her own for being +interested——"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she had. And perhaps it's my fault," Garth spoke out. "You see, +I'd set my heart on sending you a few presents, something not just +ordinary. It popped into my head to do that the day I landed. Reading +about you in the papers gave me the idea. But it didn't seem easy, when +it came to choosing. Miss Marks began work for me that same afternoon, +for I had a heap of back correspondence, and I hate writing. I couldn't +keep my mind on the dictation for wondering what I could send you, +different from everything and better than anything. That's how I said to +myself, 'Why not ask Zélie Marks what there is to buy in New York?' And +that is what I did."</p> + +<p>"I thought as much!" exclaimed Marise.</p> + +<p>"But I didn't tell her about you. I didn't mention who the things were +for. I just described the lady. I said, 'She's beautiful, with golden +hair and blue eyes, and dark eyelashes and dazzling white skin. She's +tall and slender, and I expect she's rich and has everything she wants. +The things I'd like to give her must be so new she hasn't had time to +want them yet, but so stunning she won't know how she lived without +'em.' Miss Marks hit on the right stunt from the first. Your name has +never been spoken between us till yesterday, when we went out of this +room together. I suppose you believe me, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I believe you," Marise grudged. "Miss Marks simply guessed. But I +wonder how? Could she have seen your theatre tickets—seats for every +performance of 'The Song'?"</p> + +<p>"By George, yes! She may—must have done. I ordered them the first day +at my hotel. They were in a bunch, tickets for three weeks, fastened +with an elastic band, on the desk where she worked. I've got a private +sitting-room, like a howling swell."</p> + +<p>"So Miss Marks chose all those exquisite things!"</p> + +<p>"She told me about 'em, and where to look. Then I went, and picked out +in my mind's eye what I wanted. I always had a messenger-boy waiting in +a taxi, and sent him in to buy, and pay on the spot, for fear someone +else should jump in ahead. That kept up the mystery. I didn't care to +have you find out at once that the things came from me. I was afraid it +would queer the whole business for you."</p> + +<p>"So it would!" Marise might have capped him. But she did not. Instead, +she asked, "But surely you meant me to know sooner or later—or where +would be the fun?"</p> + +<p>"There was plenty of fun in sending the presents and knowing the secret +myself," said Garth. "Silly, I guess! But there it was! And—I might as +well tell you now—I did kind of hope you'd try to get at the truth, one +way or another, just from pure devilment."</p> + +<p>"You were right. I did! 'Just from pure devilment.' In the same way that +Miss Marks got work with me. She must have been enjoying herself these +days!"</p> + +<p>"She's a nice girl," Garth defended the absent.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mean to discharge her. There's no reason why I should. +She's useful to me. I shan't seem to know anything about this. But I +wanted to ask you."</p> + +<p>"I'm mighty pleased you did," said the man. "I'd have been—just what +your friend calls me, if I'd sent her to get an engagement with you."</p> + +<p>Colour stole into Marise's pale cheeks. She had been more interested in +the subject of her secretary's connection with Garth than she had +expected to be when bringing it up, and for a few minutes had actually +forgotten the loathed burden on her heart.</p> + +<p>"Let's say no more about Miss Marks!" the girl exclaimed. "My inviting +you to call to-day had nothing to do with her. I only thought I'd—clear +the air."</p> + +<p>"Is it cleared now?" Garth wanted to know. "I hope it is. If not——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is—quite!"</p> + +<p>"Then you're ready to tell me the real thing you have to say?"</p> + +<p>"Ye—es.... Only I...." She paused. Her lips had gone so dry that she +could hardly speak. Her brain felt dry, too—desiccated. She had not +thought it would be like this. Stage-fright—the worst attack of +stage-fright she could remember—had not been worse. Yet she cared +little or nothing for this man's opinion, she reminded herself, except +as it concerned the plan. "I—it's very difficult."</p> + +<p>"Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered eagerly.</p> + +<p>Marise caught at his words. "That's just it! There's a very big thing +you can do to help."</p> + +<p>"You know I'll do it," Garth volunteered. "You know that, because +there's nothing I wouldn't do. I told you so yesterday."</p> + +<p>"If you hadn't, I should not have sent for you to-day."</p> + +<p>"I wish you wanted me to kill somebody for you." (She guessed, by the +fierce gleam in his eyes, what "body"!) "I'd go to 'the chair' singing."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she laughed feebly. "It's not as bad as that." (But wasn't it?) +"You—you said several things here yesterday afternoon. One was, that +you——"</p> + +<p>"That I love you! Was that what you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's the same to-day. Only more so."</p> + +<p>"Even after—I'm afraid I was very selfish and thoughtless. I wasn't as +nice to you as I ought to have been, after I'd got you to come, +and—and——"</p> + +<p>"You weren't nice to me at all," Garth gave her the truth bluntly. "I +went away trying to hate you, but I didn't bring it off. Hate, if it +starts from love, is a good deal like a boomerang, I guess. It comes +back to what it was born from. And the friction stirs up the flame till +it's hotter. Now, tell me that thing I can do for you. Because the +quicker I hear what it is, the quicker I can set about it."</p> + +<p>Marise threw up her head and drew in a long breath. She might have done +the same if she had come, with a running jump, to the edge of a +precipice.</p> + +<p>"Would you—like to marry me?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>The man bounded from his chair, and with a stride landed himself beside +her. He had knocked over a smaller chair on the way, but this time he +was untroubled by his clumsiness. He grabbed, rather than took, the +girl's hand. She was afraid he would drop on his knees, and that would +have been more than she could bear, because it was what Severance had +done. But this stiff-backed soldier kept to his feet. He held her hand +high, so high that the blood drained from it to her heart, and the +little hand was white in his (save for the pink, polished nails) as a +marble model. "You've changed your mind?" he asked hoarsely—because his +mouth, too, was suddenly dry. "You know I love you more than any other +man could. So you think, after all, you might grow to care?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't that," she had to tell him. "I haven't—exactly—changed my +mind. This hasn't anything to do with 'caring.' Only, if you do love +me—as much as you say—you might be willing..." She could not finish. +She felt his fingers suddenly tighten on hers, then loose them, as if he +would dash her hand away. He did not do this. But, looking up, the girl +saw that the man's face was scarlet. She even thought that a few beads +of sweat had broken out on his forehead. What had she said to move him +like that? "Why, she hadn't even begun!</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she inquired. "What is it you think I mean?" Her eyes were +large and innocent as a child's.</p> + +<p>The blood ebbed slowly from the weathered face. "Whatever I thought, I +don't think it now," he said harshly. "No one could, and look at you. Go +on."</p> + +<p>"But," she argued, "perhaps what you thought was right. I can't be sure, +unless you tell me."</p> + +<p>"I'd sooner die than tell you."</p> + +<p>"Well, then I had better try and tell you what I do mean. After that you +can see if your thought was the same. If so, and you feel it is so +dreadful, you may go, and turn your back on me without another word."</p> + +<p>"No, I wouldn't turn my back on you. Not even for that—now." The words +left his lips heavily, like falling stones; and there was a strange look +in his face. If it had come there in battle, it might have meant +desperate courage which nothing could daunt and would have brought him a +bar for his Victoria Cross. But being in a hotel salon, with no enemy +present more dangerous than a beautiful young girl, it was only mulish.</p> + +<p>"Would you want to marry me if I didn't love you one bit, and if +we—didn't live together, except as friends? You and mother and I, all +in the same house?"</p> + +<p>He did not answer for a moment. Then he rapped out, "Do you need a +husband to protect you—against some danger?"</p> + +<p>Marise shook her head. "It isn't so romantic as that. No one is +persecuting me. I—cared a little for somebody. I thought maybe he and I +might be married. But things have altered with him. He has to marry a +very rich girl. I haven't got money enough, it seems—although he loves +me."</p> + +<p>"The damned brute!" burst from Garth. (He knew who the "brute" was, well +enough.)</p> + +<p>"Don't call him that," Marise pleaded. "I understand how things are with +him. But——"</p> + +<p>"I suppose people have coupled your names. Good God, I'm thankful you +sent for me! No one shall ever say he jilted you. It shall be the other +way round. When will you marry me, girl?"</p> + +<p>It was a new and piercing thought to Marise that, if Severance went home +immediately and married his cousin, people would suppose she had been +jilted. She, so sensitive to every breeze which blew praise or blame, +ought to have realised that this would be the case.</p> + +<p>Strange that it needed a blundering fellow like John Garth to point out +the peril. The girl saw at once that it was a real one. She shrank from +the prospect as from a lash. She could hear the "cats" who had already +been "horrid" in England, and the cats awaiting their chance to be +horrid in New York, mewing with joy over this creamy dish of scandal.</p> + +<p>"I told you how it would be! As soon as he got the title, and a little +money with it, he threw her over!"</p> + +<p>In a flash she saw a second motive for her marriage with Garth, if +Severance were to marry Œnone Ionides. She must marry someone, and +she hadn't the heart just now to pick and choose as, of course, she +could do, given a little time. Prickling with shame over the explanation +which she tried stumblingly to make, her impulse was to catch at the one +Garth offered. Why not, since now that she thought of it, his point of +view was hers? Pain would be saved for both. And she realised that she +could not blurt out the naked truth in words. It seemed to her that, if +she attempted to do so, this rude giant, this primitive man in New York +"ready-mades," would kill her, as he had already suggested killing +Severance.</p> + +<p>"Then you consent?" she took him up.</p> + +<p>"Consent? What do you think of me? Yes, I consent."</p> + +<p>"Only to be friends? You understand that part?"</p> + +<p>"I agree to that, to begin with. Because I'm so mad about you. I'd take +you at any price."</p> + +<p>"To 'begin with'?"</p> + +<p>"Till I can make you care. I'm a man and you're a woman. And the rest +may come. I'll chance it."</p> + +<p>"No. You mustn't hope for that. It won't come. I don't want it to come."</p> + +<p>"Hope isn't easy to kill. If it was, I guess the war wouldn't have ended +the way it has. You don't know how I love you. Why, the thought even of +calling you 'my wife' is—is a kind of glorious shell-shock."</p> + +<p>He laughed out, shyly yet violently, like a boy: and of a sudden Marise +felt sick with guilt. "I mustn't let you be happy!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Why not? You needn't grudge me that. But you haven't named the day +yet—Marise. Lord! The thrill it gives me to say 'Marise' to your +face—the way I've been saying it behind your back."</p> + +<p>"You make me feel—a little beast!" The words spoke themselves, straight +out of her conscience. "I can't fix a time yet, because—if I'd +explained to you properly you mightn't have decided as you have. And +it's no use trying any more. I can't do it. Oh!" (as she saw his face +flush again, and pale to a sickly brown) "perhaps I see what was in your +head at first—what's come back there now. But I'm not so much of a +beast as that. My wishing to marry someone has nothing to do with the +past. No, the reason's all mixed up with the future. You could never +guess. I could never explain. And I couldn't let you marry me unless +everything had been explained. I thought for a minute I could—and I +wanted to—but I find I'm not like that. Tony—Lord Severance—must +explain. Yes, of course. When I've telephoned—no, written to him—he +will do it. I haven't really spoken to him of you yet. He doesn't even +know that—you care about me. If I make an appointment, will you call at +the Waldorf, where he is staying?"</p> + +<p>"No!" Garth exploded. "That I will not do. I'll see Severance, if you +insist. I'll keep an appointment at any time. But it must be at my +hotel. I'm damned if I'll call on him!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE</h3> + + +<p>The note Marise meant to write was not written; for, as the door of the +suite shut behind John Garth, Mrs. Sorel came to the girl with news.</p> + +<p>"Dear child, I promised you shouldn't be disturbed, whatever happened, +but Tony has been telephoning for the sixth time to-day. Poor boy! He's +very anxious about you. Don't look so cynical! If your face should ever +settle into lines like that, your beauty would be gone! This time he +wanted to know if you're better for your long sleep, and if you can see +him."</p> + +<p>"No, I can't, mother! Not till something's decided. I simply can't act +to-night if I have to go through another scene with him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm not suggesting it, pet! I merely wanted to know what I should +say to poor Tony. I told him that I'd call him up and give him his +answer when you were free."</p> + +<p>Marise started. "Did you say who was here with me?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, I thought it would be best. I imagined you must be very sure the +man was—the one we're in search of."</p> + +<p>The girl shivered. "Marise in Search of a Husband! We never expected it +would come to that with me, did we, Mums? But anyhow, I hadn't to search +far. That's one consolation! I was snapped up the minute I appeared in +the show window."</p> + +<p>"Well, Tony was wrong about that Garth man, then!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he was wrong. I must write and let him know why Garth came—unless +you told him why?"</p> + +<p>"I said only what I dared say through the telephone. You know how +careful I am of anything that concerns you. What I told him was, 'Major +G——' (not even Garth!) 'has come to talk over that proposition you +thought he wouldn't accept. His staying so long makes me fancy he may be +accepting after all.' That is every word."</p> + +<p>"Good! I shan't need to write! Please 'phone again, Mums, and explain +that I don't feel as if I could see Tony till after the theatre. He may +come to my dressing-room a few minutes then, if he likes. You can bring +him in. I won't be alone with him for an instant! Tell him that I talked +with Garth, who's inclined to accept. But I left it to him—Tony—to +make matters clear, and he must telephone Garth for an appointment at +the Belmore—not the Waldorf."</p> + +<p>"Severance to go to Garth! He'll refuse——"</p> + +<p>"Then the whole thing is off!" Marise threw out her arms in a gesture of +exasperation. "He can take the offer or leave it."</p> + +<p>Mary said no more, but flew to the 'phone in her own room, with the door +shut between. Presently she came back. "Tony has consented," she +announced. "Another proof of his great love!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Never had Lord Severance felt that he appeared to less advantage than +when he was shown into the Bounder's sitting-room at the Belmore Hotel. +He held himself very straight, however, and was every inch an Ancient +Greek, if not an English earl.</p> + +<p>Garth had been engaged in writing a letter and puffing smoke over it +from a meerschaum pipe some shades browner than his face.</p> + +<p>At sight of Severance, and the sound of his name deformed by a page-boy, +the big man rose, topping his tall guest in height and erectness.</p> + +<p>"Well?" was his only greeting, as the door closed. He pushed a box of +cigarettes across the table. "Those are the smokes you prefer, I +believe."</p> + +<p>"Thanks. I have my own. And my own matches."</p> + +<p>"All right." Garth continued to puff at his pipe.</p> + +<p>"You have seen Miss Sorel, I understand."</p> + +<p>"That is so."</p> + +<p>"She—or rather Mrs. Sorel—'phoned me that—er—though you'd had some +conversation, the—affair hadn't been entirely explained to you. That's +as it should be. It's my business, and my place, to explain it."</p> + +<p>"Fire away. Do you want to sit down?"</p> + +<p>"I prefer to stand."</p> + +<p>"My sentiments!"</p> + +<p>Severance lit a cigarette, and took some time in the process.</p> + +<p>"It's rather a long story," he drawled, not with a conscious desire to +put on airs, but because his wasn't an easy task, with that bounder's +yellow eyes pinning him down, never off his face for a second.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, to make you understand and prevent your doing an injustice +to Miss Sorel, I'll have to bore you, in beginning, with a short résumé +of my personal history."</p> + +<p>"Spit it out. Though you needn't fear my doing that lady an injustice. +It would take something worse than a lack of tact on your part, or any +man's, to make me such a fool."</p> + +<p>"Glad you feel so about it"</p> + +<p>"So am I. Shoot!"</p> + +<p>Thus prodded without ceasing, Severance began the tale. He told about +his half-uncle, and his half-uncle's daughter. Whether it was Œnone's +state of invalidism or the state of her affections which drew from +Garth, a grunt of "Poor girl!" Tony was not sure. But, in the +circumstances, the less notice he took of disturbing trifles the better. +He stated his case with as much care as if he had been pleading in +court, as his own defender. In fact, he had rehearsed some sentences +hastily on his way from the Waldorf to the Belmore. Yet those eyes of +Garth's were as disconcerting as the watchful eyes of an uncaged +panther, alleged to be tame. Severance forgot the words he had thought +of, and had to substitute others not so effective. With the most earnest +wish to cut the best figure possible, for dear dignity's sake, he felt +himself floundering more than once. At least, however, he did not break +down. Somehow he got to his goal, and knew that even a boor like Garth +could not fail to see what—if he took on the job—was required of him.</p> + +<p>"So that's that!" Tony finished, and threw away his cigarette.</p> + +<p>He had not been looking at the other man much as he talked. It was +easier and pleasanter not to do so; but, despite Garth's silence (not +once had he interrupted with a question or exclamation), Severance +wasn't quite sure how this type of fellow would act in the +circumstances.</p> + +<p>Of course, the bare hint that he might accept such a part would be the +last of insults to a proud man—a gentleman. Garth, however, was merely +a "temporary gentleman," and probably hadn't saved a sou. To a person of +his sort, a million dollars would be a dazzling bribe. Still, the brute +had an ugly temper, as he had shown once or twice in the past, and he +was capable of violence. Tony was doubtful, still, how to take him. +Common as the Bounder was, his brother officer had vaguely placed him a +peg above this level. The black eyes made a sudden effort to dominate +the yellow-grey ones and read their secret, in order—if need be—to +ward away a blow.</p> + +<p>But there was no such need, it seemed. Garth stood with feet apart, +always doggedly puffing at his pipe, hands thrust deep in pockets. He +had produced a cloud of smoke as dense as that which emanated from a +Geni of the Lamp, and Severance could not pierce to his expression.</p> + +<p>For a minute neither spoke. Then Garth brought forth from the depths a +hand, removed the meerschaum from his mouth, and, having knocked out the +ash, lovingly laid the pipe on the mantelpiece.</p> + +<p>Severance stood alert, prepared for what might come. But nothing came.</p> + +<p>"What did Miss Sorel say about me?" Garth bluntly questioned. "I mean +yesterday or to-day."</p> + +<p>"We have scarcely mentioned you when we were together. I told you it was +her mother who telephoned me. There has been no other communication on +the subject. I hope I've made it plain to you that Mrs. Sorel approves +this plan."</p> + +<p>"Plain as a pikestaff. She would approve of it, or any plan of yours. I +should judge she's that kind of a person. She thinks her daughter born +for the English aristocracy and millions. Then I'm to understand that +the ladies gave you no reason for believing me the man—to take this +on?"</p> + +<p>"They went into no details. Miss Marks may have led them——"</p> + +<p>"We can drop the subject. All I wanted to know is what they said, not +what they thought. Well, a million dollars is quite a wad! And every man +has his price. I'd do a lot for a million. But in this case——"</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"I ask you to raise your bid if you wish to buy yours truly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if it's a question of a few thousands——"</p> + +<p>"It isn't. I'll take the rest of the payment in another medium. Not +money. And I want it in advance."</p> + +<p>"What d'you want?"</p> + +<p>"You're a boxer, I believe?"</p> + +<p>"Not bad."</p> + +<p>"Heavy-weight, of course!"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"So am I. Jim Jackson trained me, and taught me most of what I know."</p> + +<p>"Ah! I've heard of him."</p> + +<p>"Most men have."</p> + +<p>"What are you leading up to?"</p> + +<p>"My advance payment for the job. I take it on only upon that one +condition."</p> + +<p>"I don't fully understand."</p> + +<p>"Well, as I just said, a million's quite a wad, and I, like every man, +have my price. Also, I've my pride. Now, you don't know the reasons I +may have for deciding to pocket that pride at the same time with your +millions. Take it that they're mercenary. What does it matter to you? +But even a gilded pill slips down easier in jam. The jam I want is a +round or two with you, man to man, no gloves. Now d'you understand?"</p> + +<p>"You want to fight me?"</p> + +<p>"A little round, I said. We ought to be pretty evenly matched."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me a very childish idea," said Severance.</p> + +<p>"May be it is. But it's my idea. And those are my terms. Refuse or +accept."</p> + +<p>Severance fingered his moustache in the way he had. "When do you want to +do this damned fool thing, and in what circumstances?" he hedged.</p> + +<p>"Now. Circumstances those of the present minute. We can take off our +coats. I suppose you don't wear corsets?"</p> + +<p>Severance deigned no answer to this taunt. He thought hard for an +instant. He was a good boxer, and had been complimented before the war +by Carpentier himself. Garth was unlikely to be his equal. If the ass +wanted to work off steam and save his beastly face this silly way, let +him!</p> + +<p>"If I consent to fight, you consent to—er——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, whether you or I get the best of this."</p> + +<p>"Done, then!"</p> + +<p>They tore off their coats, collars, neckties, and waist-coats. Garth had +a sullen, ugly grin on his face as he pushed back the table and cleared +the room. Severance did not know what to make of the man, but had +confidence in himself.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Two hours later the telephone-bell rang in Mrs. Sorel's room. She was +putting on hat and coat to go to the theatre with Marise, but she ran to +take up the receiver.</p> + +<p>"Is that your voice, Lord Severance—Tony? Why, I wasn't sure at first," +she answered an indistinct murmur at the other end. "You sound +different, somehow! What? You've had a fall? Loosened a front tooth? Oh, +my poor dear boy—your beautiful white teeth! Marise will shed tears. Of +course, you mustn't leave your rooms to-night.... Indeed, you must be +sure he's the best dentist in New York. He'll fix you up in no time.... +Why, yes, I suppose I can run in, without Marise, just for a minute ... +if it would comfort you at all.... The man Gar—said 'yes'? Well, that's +a consolation! You settled the whole thing before your accident? But +you'll tell me the story when I come."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>For the first time, Garth did not go to the theatre that night. Never +had he felt more physically fit, but he did not wish to see Marise. He +felt that he would not be master of himself, through her "great scene" +in the last act. He would want to spring on the stage and choke her. As +he thought this, he looked at his knuckles. They were cracked and +bruised, but the sight did not displease him. He stretched out his arms +wide in a sweeping gesture, his hands spread palm upwards.</p> + +<p>"God!" he said. "I've got my chance. To punish him. To punish her, too. +Why not? The devil knows how well she deserves it. And yet—I don't +know. We shall see!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>"HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT, TOO!"</h3> + + +<p>While two men thought violently of Marise Sorel, she lay in bed as night +wore on, intent upon thinking of one of them, and inadvertently thinking +of both.</p> + +<p>Severance hadn't shown himself at the theatre because, thanks to Garth, +he was not looking his best. Neither was Garth, who, on the contrary, +looked and felt his worst. Unlike Severance, however, he had very little +personal vanity; and a black eye or so would not have prevented him from +going as usual to gaze at "Dolores." He did not go because he didn't +wish to go.</p> + +<p>Smoking pipe after pipe, he prowled up and down his own sitting-room far +into the night, much to the annoyance of a lady on the floor below. He +mapped out a future full of revenges; and if "thoughts were things," his +must have hurled themselves like Mills bombs into Marise's room, to +burst at the foot of her bed. He did not flatter himself that they would +reach so far; yet possibly it was some disturbing telepathic influence +which forced Marise to think of Garth as often as of Severance, almost +as often as she thought of herself.</p> + +<p>She thought with fury of Severance, with extraordinary curiosity of +Garth, and with pitying forgiveness of herself.</p> + +<p>Of course, she knew that she was behaving, or planning possibly to +behave, in a way which should bow her head with shame. Perhaps she was a +little ashamed. At all events, she wouldn't have liked people to know +what she contemplated doing, and with what motive. They might +misunderstand. They might think her a bad lot, whereas she was not a bad +lot, but a charming, cruelly-wounded girl who had to defend herself at +almost any price.</p> + +<p>Well, she wasn't claiming to be an <i>angel</i>! She'd hate to be one. It +would be too dull. But she was just as far from being a "Vamp," or even +a sort of up-to-date Becky Sharp. Becky Sharp had no heart. She, Marise, +had too much. That was the trouble. She was hurt, hurt through and +through! She'd go mad if she didn't do something desperate.</p> + +<p>To marry this Garth man—actually <i>marry</i> him!—would be desperate +enough. She'd said that she'd do it. She had—yes, actually proposed to +him. But she could change her mind. Surely he wouldn't be surprised if +she did. And if he were surprised it didn't matter, except that—he was +such a strange sort of fellow, he might <i>kill</i> her! It was rather a +wonder he hadn't killed Tony—or tried to. She would somehow have +fancied he was that <i>sort</i>! But she must have been mistaken in him. Mums +said that Tony'd said (through the 'phone) that Garth had accepted the +promise of a million dollars for—for being what she'd herself invited +him to be: her "dummy" husband.</p> + +<p>What was his motive? Was it what she had actually believed: that he +loved her so wildly he'd do <i>anything</i> to get her? Or was Tony right; +had every man his price in hard cash?</p> + +<p>Marise sat up in bed. She couldn't lie still!</p> + +<p>"By Jove, I wouldn't do such a thing if I were a man!" she nobly felt. +"Not if I loved a girl. I wouldn't have her on such terms. Which is it +with Garth?"</p> + +<p>There it was again! She couldn't banish him from her thoughts. His big +image blocked out that of Severance. But then, she wasn't curious +concerning Severance. She knew all about his motives.</p> + +<p>"I won't do the beastly thing!" she said out aloud, or almost aloud. If +it had been quite, it might have brought Mums flying helpfully in from +the next room, and Marise didn't want Mums at this moment. "I didn't +mean it really, even at first."</p> + +<p>Then she reminded herself that it wouldn't <i>kill</i> her if people did +think that Lord Severance had jilted her. She needn't marry out of pique +because of a nine days' wonder like that. She had had plenty of +proposals (though nothing quite so exciting as Tony, perhaps), and she +was bound to have plenty more. Some millionaire would come +along—someone she could bring herself to tolerate as a real husband, +and so break Tony's heart, as he deserved. Till one worth taking +appeared, she would remain free.</p> + +<p>As for the title—well, Mums had always cared more about that than she +had, though, of course, it would be nice to marry an earl—especially +such a unique sort of earl as Tony Severance.</p> + +<p>As Mums said, "Tony <i>was</i> unique." He was so fearfully, frightfully +good-looking. Such lots of girls wanted him. They had all envied her. If +she lost him, they wouldn't envy her any more. They'd pity her. Ugh! +They'd say, "Poor Marise Sorel thought she'd got him, but he slipped +away and married his rich cousin."</p> + +<p>This brought her down to bed-rock again. <i>Should</i> she carry out the +Plan, and make Tony hers in the end—which he vowed was very near?</p> + +<p>There were quite a lot of earls; but none like Tony. She'd had, and +would have, other chances. But not to touch Tony. There <i>wasn't</i> +anything to touch Tony! And with all that money he'd talked about, he'd +be a multi-millionaire. The whole world would be hers as his wife. +Yet—there was "many a slip 'twixt cup and lip." Just supposing—oh +well, she wouldn't think of it any more. It was maddening, agonising. +She'd go to sleep and decide—<i>actually</i> decide—in the morning!</p> + +<p>Marise flung herself down desperately, and burying her hot head in the +cool pillows, she forced herself not to think.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When she waked, it was with the sensation that something hateful had +happened or was going to happen.</p> + +<p>What was it? <i>Oh!</i>...</p> + +<p>The girl remembered the horrid thing, and how she had decided to keep +free and punish Tony. Or had she quite decided? Hadn't she put off +deciding?</p> + +<p>How dull as lead it would be to give up this tremendous adventure to +which she'd impulsively pledged—<i>almost</i> pledged!—herself! It might be +a shocking and repulsive thing to do if some people did it, but it +wouldn't, of course, be so with her.</p> + +<p>Lots of people had said that "Dolores" was a coarse, unpleasant part +when Elsa Fortescue had played it, but no one had said such a word when +she had taken it over. On the contrary!</p> + +<p>As this thought passed through her badly aching head, Marise dimly +realised that marriage with Major Garth—accepting him as a dummy +husband, having to fight him, perhaps; "seeing what he would do," +whether he would try the old Claude Melnotte or Petruchio stuff, or +whether he'd work up new business of his own—would be quite the most +exacting emotional part for which she'd ever been cast.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she saw how she could punish Tony severely, even though she +fell in with his plans; how she could have that satisfaction, and at the +same time the satisfaction of not losing him.</p> + +<p>"It's like having your cake and eating it too!" she thought.</p> + +<p>She <i>would</i> marry Garth. She'd marry him soon—<i>much</i> sooner than Tony +meant—as soon as a license could be got. She'd send for Garth and tell +him so. She'd say <i>she</i> knew no more about marriage licenses than dog +licenses. That sounded rather smart! He must find out and arrange +everything. The quicker the better. Tony shouldn't hear a thing about it +till too late. Then he would be <i>sick</i>! And in this way <i>he</i> would seem +to be the jilted one. Splendid! His trip to England would be torture. +And she'd make it a little worse by flirting with Garth under his nose +before he sailed!</p> + +<p>It was scarcely light when she settled all this. Then she could hardly +wait till it was time to get up.</p> + +<p>Strange! To many people this would be a day like any other! To Céline, +to Zélie Marks—ah, <i>Zélie Marks</i>!</p> + +<p>The eyes of Marise flashed like blue stars in the dawn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3>"CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?"</h3> + + +<p>Miss Marks was punctual that morning, as usual.</p> + +<p>She looked like a creature of moods and storms and sudden revolts, but +her behaviour as a typist-stenographer belied her appearance as a woman. +Not only was she always on time, but she was invariably correct in her +deportment. Yes, "deportment" was the word! No other would have enough +dignity to express Miss Marks.</p> + +<p>As a rule, Mrs. Sorel came into the salon soon after the arrival of the +secretary, leaving no idle interval after the preparation of paper, +pencils, and sorting of letters. Zélie Marks remembered only one +occasion when Miss Sorel had appeared before her mother. That was the +day when she was anxious to find a certain letter in the bulky pile of +correspondence, and make sure that no eye spied it save her own.</p> + +<p>Zélie happened to be thinking of that affair to-day, when the door of +Marise's bedroom opened and a Vision showed itself upon the threshold. +"Good morning, Miss Marks," it said.</p> + +<p>"Good morning, Miss Sorel," echoed its paid employée.</p> + +<p>The said employée would not have been human had she never felt qualms of +envy of the Vision. Sometimes it was merely a negative discomfort like a +grumbling tooth that doesn't quite ache. Sometimes it was sharply +positive; and this was such a moment. Queer! Zélie always envied Marise +most when she saw the girl in what Mrs. Sorel called "undress uniform."</p> + +<p>There were few young women even among wage-earners who couldn't make a +fairly brave show in a neat tailor gown or a "Sunday best" for Church +Parade. But only the Truly Rich could have such heavenly "undies," and +only the young and lovely—lovely of figure as well as of face—could +look in them more thrilling than the wondrous wax ladies in shop +windows, or the willowy dreams of line-artists in fashion magazines.</p> + +<p>Zélie had never had, and felt that she never would have (though she was +sure she <i>ought</i> to have!) such things as Marise Sorel wore in her +bedroom. They were utterly absurd, almost indecent, she told herself. +What could be more idiotic for cold weather than a pale pink, +low-necked, short-sleeved chiffon nightgown, with the only solid thing +about it a few embroidered wild roses! What more brainless than a <i>robe +de chambre</i> of deeper pink silk georgette, trimmed with sable fur in all +the places where fur couldn't possibly give warmth?</p> + +<p>She, Zélie Marks, wore comfortable delaine night-dresses at this time of +year, and wadded kimonos. She respected herself for her economy and good +sense. But she wished she were Miss Sorel!</p> + +<p>"Miss Marks," said Marise, "can you keep a secret?"</p> + +<p>Zélie smiled. "In my work, I have to keep a good many."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you do! Well, will you keep one for me?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly."</p> + +<p>"That's a promise! Now—I shall surprise you very much."</p> + +<p>Zélie smiled politely, and waited.</p> + +<p>"I'm—going to be married."</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, Miss Sorel," said Zélie, in rather a stilted, professional +manner, "but that doesn't surprise me at all."</p> + +<p>"You haven't heard the name of the man yet."</p> + +<p>"No. You haven't <i>told</i> me that."</p> + +<p>"You mean, you believe you've guessed?"</p> + +<p>"I hope you don't think me presumptuous?"</p> + +<p>"Of course not! Why should it be—such a long word? Guessing's free! But +I wonder if you <i>have</i> guessed?"</p> + +<p>Zélie allowed herself to look slightly bored. If Miss Sorel were going +to be married, and leave for England, she wouldn't want a secretary +long, so there was no need to grovel! "Do you wish me to try?" she asked +primly.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"The Earl of Severance."</p> + +<p>Marise had known she would say that, yet she blushed. "Lord Severance +and I are quite old pals," she replied. "This is something much newer +and more exciting! I'm going to marry your friend Major Garth."</p> + +<p>There were few warmer-hearted girls, few who hated more to give pain, +than Marise, yet as she spoke she fixed her eyes—minx-like, if not +lynx-like—on the face of Miss Marks. Even when she saw it go pale—that +greenish pallor of olive complexions—and then a dull, unbecoming red +which gave the dark eyes a bloodshot effect, she wasn't conscious of +repentance for what she had done. She had an odd, unpleasant feeling +that Miss Marks had no right to turn pale and red about a man <i>she</i> was +going to marry. So instead of softening, she went on, hard as nails.</p> + +<p>"Don't forget it's a <i>great</i> secret. I want to spring a surprise on +<i>everyone</i>. Will you please 'phone him—Major Garth—at the Belmore for +me? I haven't got time now to call him myself. Just ask him to come +round in three-quarters of an hour. I'll have had my coffee and be +dressed by then, if I rush."</p> + +<p>"Very well, Miss Sorel," agreed Zélie, controlling her voice. After +which she added, "I hope you'll allow me to congratulate you."</p> + +<p>Marise laughed a funny little laugh. "Thanks! But doesn't one 'wish joy' +to the bride and '<i>congratulate</i>' the bridegroom?"</p> + +<p>By this time Zélie was at the telephone, but she turned, and her black +eyes darted at Marise one small flame of the fire in her heart. "I wish +you joy, of course," she said. "But I <i>must</i> congratulate you too, +because I've known Ja—Major Garth since before the war, and I know what +he <i>is</i>. He's <i>great</i>! If you lumped together most of the best men +you've met, they wouldn't make <i>one</i> John Garth!"</p> + +<p>"Ha ha! he <i>is</i> very big!" giggled Marise. "Quite an out-size."</p> + +<p>Zélie could have boxed the ears under the delicious boudoir cap. They +deserved to be boxed!</p> + +<p>"His <i>soul</i> is big!" the older girl snapped. "I only hope you—I mean, +there aren't many women capable of appreciating him. But, of course, you +must be, or you wouldn't have succumbed to him so soon."</p> + +<p>"Succumbed!" Marise flung back the word with just the least shrug of her +shoulders. For an instant the two glared at each other, though "glare" +is a melodramatic word which doesn't chime well with nicely-brought-up +girls in the twentieth century. When Marise, as a child, had looked at +anyone in that way, she called it "snorting with her eyes."</p> + +<p>Now, it was only for a third of a second. Then Miss Marks applied +herself to the telephone, and never had her neat back looked so square +and business-like. There was no more time to waste upon useless +repartees with a secretary, so Marise bolted to her own room.</p> + +<p>She meant and wished to be dressed and fed in three-quarters of an hour, +but never had she quite brought off that feat—at least, never since +she'd become a successful star; and she didn't quite bring it off now. +Her hair was being done when Mums tapped and entered upon the scene. She +looked grave and rather worried, though she never actually frowned, for +fear of wrinkles.</p> + +<p>"That man Garth has come," she announced in a low voice. "What an hour +for a call! Do you wish to see him?"</p> + +<p>"I sent for him," Marise explained. "Didn't he tell you? Or haven't you +spoken to him?"</p> + +<p>"I have spoken to him, but he didn't tell me," said Mary Sorel. "I came +into the salon, and there he was with Miss Marks. I was never so +surprised in my life!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see why, as you know perfectly well I'm going to marry him," +returned Marise. "Oh, Céline! you've dug a hairpin about an <i>inch</i> into +my head! Now mind, whatever you hear us say must go no further."</p> + +<p>"But certainly not, Mademoiselle," vowed Céline, who spoke excellent +English, though the two ladies loved proudly to air their French for her +benefit. "It is indeed true that Mademoiselle will marry this <i>Monsieur +American</i>?"</p> + +<p>"It is indeed true," Marise repeated drily.</p> + +<p>"It won't take place—I mean the wedding—for some time, however," Mrs. +Sorel hurried to add.</p> + +<p>Marise said nothing, but looked suddenly as mulish as a beautiful girl +can look. She had been wondering whether or no to confide in Mums what +was in her mind, and see what Mums would say and think about it. But on +the instant she decided "<i>No</i>." She <i>knew</i> beforehand what Mums would +think and say. Everything would be from Tony's point of view. Mums was +obsessed with the wonder and majesty and glory of the great—soon to be +the rich—Lord Severance! The news should be sprung on Mums at the last +moment, when everything was "fixed up."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Zélie was snatching a few words with Garth—not the words she +wanted personally to speak, but as nearly those as she dared.</p> + +<p>"Jack Garth!" she whispered, "Miss Sorel told me just now you and she +are going to be <i>married</i>. She wasn't <i>joking</i>?"</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said Garth steadily, "because I'd be—rather cut up if I +thought it was a joke."</p> + +<p>"Listen, Jack," Zélie hurried on. "We're pals—we've been pals for a +long time. I <i>want</i> you to be happy. I'd do a whole lot to make you +happy. So you've just <i>got</i> to forgive me if I say.... <i>Do</i> you know +what you're doing? <i>Can</i> you be happy? That girl—I mean, Miss +Sorel—doesn't love you any more than she does me. And that isn't a +<i>little</i> bit!"</p> + +<p>"I love her," said Garth. "I don't care a damn whether I'm happy or +not."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Then it's all right. Of course, I <i>suppose</i> you know your own +business. Still—Jack—I can't help feeling there's something +queer—some sort of mystery. Don't let yourself be deceived."</p> + +<p>"I'm not being deceived."</p> + +<p>"I hope not, I'm sure. But—oh, <i>do</i> forgive me!—it's Lord Severance +she loves."</p> + +<p>"Then the sooner she unloves him the better it will be all around."</p> + +<p>"I know you think I'm a meddler. But remember we're friends. Remember +Mothereen told me to be your friend, Jack. Those two Sorel women think +Severance the perfect beau ideal of a man. They look upon you—oh, I +can't say it!"</p> + +<p>"You needn't," Garth drily assured her; "I'm a cad; a bounder; a lout."</p> + +<p>"The <i>beasts</i>! I hate them both!" Zélie gasped. "They're not worthy to +black your boots."</p> + +<p>"I mostly wear brown ones," said Garth.</p> + +<p>"You're right to snub me. I won't say any more. You must go your own +way, and I hope—I hope with all my heart" (Zélie choked a little) +"you'll never regret it. But just this <i>one</i> thing let me beg you to do. +Whatever they're up to, don't give them the chance to despise you. I +mean, in little things. They <i>can't</i> in big! I saw the way they looked +at—at your clothes Sunday afternoon, Jack. I could have <i>thrown</i> +something at them!—not the clothes, but the Sorels—and Severance, the +conceited Greek snob! But the clothes <i>weren't</i> right, boy. They didn't +do you justice. They had a sort of 'Sunday-go-to-meeting' look: kind of +<i>smug</i>! And your gloves and shoes <i>just</i> the wrong yellow! For heaven's +sake don't lose a minute in going to a good tailor if you don't want +your life to be a hell!"</p> + +<p>Garth laughed out, a hard, spasmodic laugh; and at that instant Marise +came in.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3>MARISE PUTS ON BLACK</h3> + + +<p>A girl in love with one man, flinging herself at the head of another out +of pique or something worse, should have been utterly careless how she +appeared to the eyes of the latter. But for some reason—she hardly knew +what—Marise had been anxious to look her most desirable. She was +dressed in black velvet with shimmering fringes, and a drooping black +velvet hat which made her fairness dazzling, her yellowish-brown hair +bright gold.</p> + +<p>With a faint smile, and in silence, she held out her hand. Garth took +it, and this time didn't crush it unduly.</p> + +<p>Zélie, who had risen as Garth rose, began pinning on her toque, but +Marise turned to her. "Don't go, Miss Marks," she said. "I've told you +the secret, and maybe we shall need your help about something. I don't +want my mother here till everything's arranged. It doesn't matter about +you."</p> + +<p>Zélie slowly took out a hatpin. Oh no, it didn't matter about <i>her</i>! She +laid the toque down again, but drew a chair to the typewriter table, her +back turned to the man and the girl. She could, if she glanced up from +her papers, however, see them both in a mirror. She tried not to glance +up, but she succeeded about half as often as she failed. The look on +Garth's face hurt a great deal worse than the hatpin had done when just +now she had jammed the point of it into her head. Oh, it was +ridiculous—or heartbreaking—the way some men loved the wrong girls!</p> + +<p>"I've been thinking in the night," said Marise in a brisk, cheerful +tone, "what fun for us—since we <i>are</i> to be married—to get married at +once and give everyone we know the surprise of their young lives!... +What do you say?"</p> + +<p>Garth had not expected this at all. In fact, when he'd been sent for at +a very early hour, he expected to hear that Marise had "changed her +mind." It was easy for her to ask "what he said," knowing that he could +say only commonplaces before Zélie Marks; and he believed that Zélie had +been invited to remain in the room for precisely this reason.</p> + +<p>"I say, 'Great!'" He rose to the occasion, with the memory of Zélie's +words and his own drumming through his head. "They despise you. Cad: +bounder: lout!" "That's nice of you!—very!" cooed Marise, noticing how +his jaw squared, and feeling the tide of her curiosity rise. (<i>Was</i> it +love? Or <i>was</i> it the million?) "Well then, we'll just do the deed! How +long does it take to get licenses and things?"</p> + +<p>Garth kept himself firmly in hand. "Only as long as it takes to buy the +license and notify a parson."</p> + +<p>"That's what I hoped," said Marise. "I felt sure it was different here +from England."</p> + +<p>"Shall we—that is, would you care"—(Garth's mouth was dry)—"would you +care to be married to-day?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," the girl flashed back, "I would care to, if that suits you. +Because, you see, I want it to be done and over before—<i>anybody knows</i>. +Except my mother, of course. She won't like the idea one bit. But I'll +make her come round."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Garth. And he did see. He saw very clearly. But he could +not understand, all in a moment like this, why she wanted to marry him +without letting Severance know beforehand. It didn't <i>seem</i>, just on the +face of it, a good sign for Severance. Still, he couldn't be sure. Women +were supposed to be very subtle, and he'd never had much time even to +try and analyse the strange creatures. Except Mothereen (he'd named her +that because she was Irish), the little old woman who'd given him the +only mothering he remembered, Garth had never got very near any woman's +mentality. He braced himself, and asked, "How soon can you be ready?"</p> + +<p>"In an hour—in <i>less</i> than an hour. As soon as I've told Mums," Marise +spoke quickly and thickly, over a beating heart. Each moment excited her +more and more. She felt herself the heroine of a thrilling drama—a +drama where she had to play the star part without any rehearsals, and +without ever having read further than the first scene of the first act. +It might be a drama of "stunts," too—as the movie people said: +dangerous stunts, where she might have to walk a tightrope with a deep +drop underneath. But she wasn't afraid. She would not have thrown over +the part now if some other easier one with the same ending had offered. +She didn't recognise herself as she was to-day. But she did not care. It +was all Tony's fault. Or perhaps a little Mums' fault too.</p> + +<p>"And afterwards?" she heard Garth quietly asking.</p> + +<p>"Oh!... Well, the first thing is the fun of surprising everyone. After +that—well, I haven't exactly thought yet."</p> + +<p>"You had better think," he said. "Much better."</p> + +<p>Marise glanced at the back of Zélie's head, then met Miss Marks's eyes +in the mirror.</p> + +<p>"We'll talk it over presently with Mums. She's so <i>wise</i>—and always +knows how to do the right thing." The "correct thing" would have been +more apt an expression, but Marise wasn't thinking of the fine shades. +She was thinking just then more of Zélie; and the thought of Zélie made +her blush, she didn't quite see why!</p> + +<p>"Miss Marks," she said, "I may want you by and by to take down several +notes for me, letters to some of my most intimate friends, to be sent +after—after the wedding. But at this particular instant I fancy there's +nothing more for you to do, except—oh yes, do be very nice, and run +down to the mail counter, or wherever in the hotel you can buy stamps."</p> + +<p>As these instructions were being given, Zélie pencilled with incredible +quickness a few words on a scrap of paper. This scrap she tucked up her +sleeve, and a second or two later, as Garth opened the door for her to +go out, she contrived to slip the paper into the hand on the knob.</p> + +<p>"Now I'll call Mums," cried Marise, fearing to risk such a moment alone +with this unclassified wild animal, soon to become her dummy husband. +"Mums is not pleased, because I said I wanted a few words with you +before she came in—though she'd be <i>much</i> crosser if she knew I'd let +Miss Marks stay. You'll back me up with her, won't you, that my +plan—<i>ours</i>, I mean—is the best?"</p> + +<p>"I think," said Garth, "you don't need much backing from me with your +mother, though if you do, I'll give it as well as I know how. But wait a +second before she comes. I have a superstition. I ask that you won't be +married in black."</p> + +<p>"Oh! But I chose this dress on purpose!" The words escaped before she'd +stopped to think.</p> + +<p>Garth didn't flush. He was past that. He needed all his blood at his +heart. "I supposed you did," he said. "All the same, don't wear it."</p> + +<p>"But it's such a pretty dress—and hat. They're new. I like them—better +than anything I've got."</p> + +<p>"<i>For this occasion!</i> I understand."</p> + +<p>"Are you—being sarcastic?" Marise hesitated.</p> + +<p>"No-o. Only sincere. Why did you want to wear black to be married—to +me?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't know." She stammered a little.</p> + +<p>"Well then, if you don't know, change to another colour."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm quite willing to do that if you make a point of it!"</p> + +<p>The man's manner was so different from the other day, that Marise was +less sure of his motives in taking her at the price. He spoke shortly +and sharply now, like a military martinet, she decided. But he <i>wasn't</i> +exactly "common." He wasn't even ordinary.</p> + +<p>Her last words were at the door of her own room, and she whisked +through, to find her mother. She thought how she should break the news. +And she thought, also, what she should wear in place of the black dress. +Should she put on grey—or heliotrope—"second mourning"? She would have +liked to try this trick upon Garth. But the man was capable of making +her take off one thing after the other, on pain of not being married +to-day—which meant, not spiting Severance.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel was flabbergasted.</p> + +<p>She would not have used such a vulgar expression herself; but that is +what she was.</p> + +<p>She argued, she warned, she scolded, she besought. Severance would be +furious. It would be a blow which his love might not survive. Tony had +not dreamed of this marriage taking place with such—indecent haste!</p> + +<p>"If you say much more it won't take place at all!" shrilled Marise, on +the verge of hysterics, which (Mums knew from bitter experience) her +twentieth-century child was not at all above having when thwarted, just +like an early Edwardian.</p> + +<p>While Marise was away, Garth opened the folded scrap of paper that Zélie +Marks had slipped into his hand, and read the line she had pencilled.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"For <i>goodness'</i> sake don't be married in those awful best +clothes of yours that you wore Sunday. Put on the uniform of +the <i>Guards</i>, and look a regular man."</p></blockquote> + +<p>He was in no mood for laughing, yet he grinned. "And look a regular +man!" ... Girls were queer. As if it would matter to Marise what <i>he</i> +wore! But—well, hang it, why shouldn't he make her notice him? She +would do that if he turned up in uniform. And wasn't that what he wished +to look in her eyes, "A regular man"?</p> + +<p>He'd made up his mind to take Zélie's tip, when suddenly he remembered +that Marise and he would not be married in church. They'd walk into some +parson's parlour, and the knot would be tied there. He couldn't get into +his uniform for a home-made affair like that.</p> + +<p>Garth had gone no further than this when Marise came back, chaperoned by +Mums.</p> + +<p>"My mother makes one stipulation," the girl announced. "That the wedding +shall be in a church. She's picked up English ideas, and thinks anything +else 'hardly respectable.' Though I should have thought for that reason +it would be more appropriate! However, <i>I</i> don't care. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"Not a da—not a red cent," said Garth.</p> + +<p>Two minutes later he had gone to buy a marriage license, engage the +services of a clergyman—and a <i>church</i>.</p> + +<p>Marise changed her dress. She would not wear white, like a <i>real</i> bride. +That would be sacrilege, she said; and compromised by putting on her +favourite blue. But it was the oldest dress she owned; and she had +intended giving it to Céline.</p> + +<p>The girl wished she were pale. But that could be arranged. And she was +arranging it with powder when the bell of the telephone rang.</p> + +<p>Mums flew to the instrument, tearfully drawing on her gloves.</p> + +<p>Garth had called up, to give the name of the church and the hour fixed +for the wedding. They must start at once.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3>THE CHURCH DOOR</h3> + + +<p>Céline was a fervent admirer of Lord Severance. Half Greek, she had +heard him called. To her he was wholly Greek: a Greek god. Indeed, he +was miles handsomer than "<i>cet Apollon en marbre</i>" adorning a pedestal +in the salon, which statue she tried to drape tastefully with climbing +flowers each morning. His lordship's nose was much the same as Apollo's; +so was his proud air of owning the world and not caring particularly +about it: and to Céline's idea he had more to be proud of than a mere +god who went naked.</p> + +<p>Gods had no pockets, and Lord Severance had many, beautifully flat yet +containing banknotes with which he was generous when nobody looked. +Since she could not marry him, Céline wanted Mademoiselle to do so, for +Mademoiselle was her <i>alter ego</i>. She shared Mademoiselle's glory and +her dresses. She wished to be maid to a countess—a <i>chic</i> countess, as +the wife of Milord Severance would be. It was desolating that +Mademoiselle should throw everything over because of a silly quarrel (it +must be a quarrel!) and fling herself away on a gawky giant whose +clothes might have been made by a butcher!</p> + +<p>Yes, it was easy to see that there had been an upheaval of some sort. +Mademoiselle was not the same since Sunday afternoon, when this huge +personage had arrived by appointment, and Céline had recalled seeing him +on shipboard. To be sure, Milord had come in later, and outstayed the +Monsieur. But it was then the quarrel must have occurred, for +Mademoiselle had been in a state unequalled even after the most trying +dress rehearsals. Oh, it was a mystery—a mystery of the deepest +blackness!</p> + +<p>Céline moaned aloud, with a bleating noise, and gabbled <i>argot</i> as she +tidied the belongings which Mademoiselle had flung everywhere.</p> + +<p>"If I should call up Milord, how would that be?" she asked herself, and +rushed to the 'phone.</p> + +<p>Severance, as it happened, had been on the point of telephoning Mrs. +Sorel, not daring to attempt direct communication with Marise. He had +bad news and good news to give. The bad was that he must sail for +England sooner than expected, in fact, on the following day, or perhaps +not get a cabin for weeks.</p> + +<p>The good news was that a friend had offered to lend him a wonderful +house near Los Angeles for the next few months. He had spoken to a +certain Lady Fytche (<i>née</i> Adêla Moyle, of California) about his +marriage, and bringing Œnone across for her health. Whereupon Adêla +(who was at his hotel, and sailing on his ship) said, "I'd love to lend +you Bell Towers. The house is standing empty, and you know it's rather +nice."</p> + +<p>Severance did know, for Bell Towers was a famous place, illustrated in +magazines; and if Adêla Moyle had been prettier, it might have become +his own before she fell back—figuratively speaking—upon a baronet.</p> + +<p>If Marise would give up the stage (he couldn't bear to leave her behind +the footlights in New York, admired, interviewed, gossipped about by +Tom, Dick and Harry!), he'd lend Bell Towers to Mrs. Sorel, and the girl +could vanish from public view till time for her farcical marriage and +his own return. If his uncle could be told by himself and the newspapers +that Miss Sorel was <i>engaged</i> to Major Garth, it would be enough to cool +the old boy's suspicions.</p> + +<p>Then, as Tony's hand was stretched out for the receiver, came a ring at +the telephone.</p> + +<p>"The dentist!" he thought. For he had had to ask for a second +appointment because of that loosened tooth, and was to be called up. It +came as a surprise, therefore, to hear Céline's voice.</p> + +<p>He could hardly believe the news which the French maid gave him. Marise +wouldn't do such a thing! There must be a mistake, he told Céline. Or it +was a clumsy joke.</p> + +<p>"<i>Milord, c'est la verité</i>," came the answer. "Milord need not take my +word. Let him go to the church. Milord may yet be in time. But he must +make haste. It is a long way. I heard Madame telephone and talk."</p> + +<p>"I will go—I'll do my best," Severance answered, to put the woman off. +But—what <i>could</i> he do? What was his "best"?</p> + +<p>Céline knew nothing of the secret pact. She judged from what she had +overheard, and he could not explain that he didn't see his way to stop +the marriage.</p> + +<p>The more he thought, the more clear it became that this sudden move by +Marise was a caprice to spite him—to "hoist him from his own petard." +Severance could almost hear the girl defend herself. "You ought to be +pleased that I took you at your word, before you went away. Otherwise I +might have changed my mind about the whole thing!"</p> + +<p>She was sure to say this, and even if he reached the church in time he +wouldn't dare stop the business when it had gone so far. That devil +Garth had a beast of a temper; and a fellow can't at the same moment see +red, and which side his bread is buttered!</p> + +<p>Severance hated Garth venomously since the episode at the Belmore. But +the brute was a hero in the States, and would pass in the public eye as +a reasonable husband for Marise Sorel.</p> + +<p>Nobody who didn't know the ugly truth would say, "How <i>could</i> that +beautiful girl throw herself away on that <i>worm</i>?"</p> + +<p>Whatever Garth was, he wasn't a worm. Though he had apparently made no +bones of accepting a million-dollar bribe, deep within his subconscious +self Severance didn't believe that the million was the lure. Garth was +in love with the girl, in his loutish way. Perhaps, even, he might hope +to win some affection from her in return. Tony felt that he need wish +the fool no worse than an attempt to "try it on"!</p> + +<p>Force, Severance did not fear. Marise was no flapper. She had her eyes +open. She'd know how to handle a man in Garth's position. Besides, Mums +would be at her side, a pillar of strength. Tony even felt that in some +ways Garth was ideal for the part he had to play. Marise would always +contrast him unfavourably with the man she loved. And hating Garth, +he—Severance—could enjoy the tortures which the paid dummy was doomed +to suffer.</p> + +<p>Severance could not keep away from the church. To go was undignified, +yet he knew that he would go.... Five minutes after his talk with +Céline, Tony was in the lift, descending ten storeys of his hotel to the +gilding and marble of the ground floor. As in a dream, he ordered a +taxi. It came; and—self-conscious, as if he were being married +himself—he directed the chauffeur where to drive. Then, still as in a +dream, he stared at his reflection in a small mirror, which bobbed as +the taxi bounced. It was a consolation to see how handsome and +superlatively smart he looked!</p> + +<p>He had abandoned his uniform in New York for every-day life; but he was +sure that no man in America had clothes to compare in cut with his, +which had been built at just the right place in Savile Row. His silk hat +was a masterpiece. His tie, his socks, and the orchid in his buttonhole +were all of the same shade, and his opal pin repeated the lights and +shades of colour.</p> + +<p>Well, there was one good thing he <i>could</i> accomplish by turning up at +the church. Silently he would show Marise the contrast between a man who +was everything he ought to be, and a man who was everything no man +should be and live!</p> + +<p>The chauffeur slowed at last before a church which looked more English +than American, and was perhaps a relic of colonial days. "You can wait," +said Severance, getting out. "I may ..." But he forgot the rest. In the +porch stood two men, who had evidently just arrived and were talking. It +was more like a dream than ever to see a familiar uniform which at a +glance took Severance home. Both men wore it. The fighting khaki of his +own regiment of the Guards!</p> + +<p>The shorter of the two tall officers turned and saw him. It was his own +Colonel; and the other was Garth. Then a second taxi drove up, +containing Marise Sorel and her mother.</p> + +<p>Severance would have stepped to the door of their cab, but Garth was +before him.</p> + +<p>And so it was, with sunshine striking a line of decorations on the +V.C.'s breast, that Marise got the contrast between the men. An orchid +is beautiful; but the Victoria Cross, even expressed in ribbon, is +better.</p> + +<p>"Let me introduce my Colonel, Lord Pobblebrook," said Garth. "He has +brought his wife, who is American, home to this country; and when we ran +across each other this morning he offered to—to see me through here."</p> + +<p>"Pobbles"—of whom Marise had heard from Tony—took her hand. "We're +proud of Garth in the regiment," he said, and found time to nod to +Severance. But he looked puzzled. Why was Severance here? To the best of +Pobbles's recollection, Tony had been the ringleader in a set who wanted +to snub Garth out of the Brigade. The Colonel's curiosity woke up.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3>FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE</h3> + + +<p>For once, Marise was all girl, not actress. She lost her <i>savoir faire</i> +at sight of Severance, and could not speak.</p> + +<p>She saw him before she saw Garth and "Pobbles," and her eyes took in his +perfection of tailorhood. Then Garth came forward, and she was struck +with surprise by the uniform of the smartest soldiers in the world.</p> + +<p>"What an inspiration!" she thought, never guessing whence that +inspiration had come.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel, luckily, could always speak, even chatter. She chattered +now.</p> + +<p>"How nice of you to come, Lord Severance," she chirped, keeping up +appearances before Lord Pobblebrook. "And how <i>clever</i>!" she added, +camouflaging for "Pobbles's" benefit her surprise that Tony should have +learned Marise's secret. How he had done that, she would wring out of +someone by and by. But at present duty bade her be pleasant to +"Pobbles."</p> + +<p>Trying to recall mutual friends (titled) with whose Christian names she +could impress the noble soldier, Mums had to keep a watchful eye and ear +for her girl and the two young men: but it was not for long. The +clergyman was waiting.</p> + +<p>"Strange, how many things you can think of at one time—especially the +wrong time!" Marise reflected, as she stood before the figure in a +surplice.</p> + +<p>She had often dreamed of being married, and what kind of a wedding she +would have, at St. George's, Hanover Square, or the Guards' Chapel. She +had chosen her music, and knew what sort of dress and veil she wanted. +Orchids were Tony's flowers. There was a white variety, streaked with +silver. Her train should be silver, too. She'd be leaving the stage; and +as the Countess of Severance, she could be presented. The silver train +would do for Court.</p> + +<p>Now, here she was, thousands of miles from Hanover Square and the +Guards' Chapel. She had on a street dress. There was no music, unless +you could count the far-off strains of a hand-organ playing an old tune, +"You made me love you, I didn't want to do it!" The one orchid was in +Tony's buttonhole; and he was in a pew looking on while she promised to +love, honour and obey another man.</p> + +<p>Marise saw the two pictures—the dream and the reality; and the +difference made her sick. All the sense of wild adventure was gone. +There was <i>no</i> adventure! There was just blank ruin.</p> + +<p>What a fool she had been! Was there no way out, even now? Surely there +was one. She could still say "No," instead of "Yes," and there'd be an +end, where Garth was concerned.</p> + +<p>Perhaps on the spur of the moment Marise would have followed her +impulse, if—Lord Pobblebrook hadn't been present. Somehow, before him +she couldn't make a scene!</p> + +<p>The girl felt as if two unseen influences had her by the arm, one on the +right, one on the left, like the white and black angels of the +Mohammedan. They pulled both ways at once, and trembling as she never +had trembled on a first night at the theatre, she looked up at Garth.</p> + +<p>There was an odd expression in his yellow-grey eyes, which she had +likened to the eyes of a lion in a Zoo who sees nothing save his far-off +desert. This lion was not now thinking of the desert. He was thinking of +her. But how? As a piece of meat which he would soon be free to devour? +Or—as a new keeper who, though young and a woman, would have to be +reckoned with?</p> + +<p>As this question flashed through her mind, Marise remembered that she +knew nothing of Garth's past, nor of his character, except that he had +fought and won the V.C., therefore he must be brave. But why worry, +since in a few months they'd part, and she would forget him, as she'd +forgotten several leading men who played "opposite" her when she first +went on the stage?</p> + +<p>But that look in the yellow-grey eyes; what was its language? What was +in the soul or brain behind the eyes? Was Garth deciding how to treat +her during the short time that would be his?</p> + +<p>Marise recalled the sound of his voice when he had asked her what would +come after the marriage. She'd answered that she "hadn't thought yet." +And he had said, "<i>You had better think. Think now.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not alone in the world, and I'm not afraid of him," she +encouraged herself. "Cave Man business is old stuff. And anyhow—what +price a Cave <i>Girl</i>?"</p> + +<p>The vision of a Cave Girl downing a surprised Cave Man almost made +Marise laugh; and then it was time for the ring. Good gracious, the +<i>ring</i>! Of course, no one had thought of it!</p> + +<p>There was an instant's stage-wait. Marise's eyes turned to her mother +and saw Mums tearing off a glove to supply the necessary object. Far +more dramatic, Severance had jumped up and was pulling from the least +finger of his left hand a gold snake-ring which had been made for his +mother in Athens. Yes, he would <i>love</i> to have Marise married to Garth +with that! But, after all, the bridegroom had brought the ring. It was +only that for a few seconds he had forgotten. Perhaps the look he had +exchanged with his bride had made him forget!</p> + +<p>He remembered, however, before Mums or Severance could step into the +breach. In fact, he gave them no breach to step into.</p> + +<p>"With this ring I thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow," +Marise heard him repeat, as he slipped over the third finger of her left +hand the circlet retrieved in haste from his khaki tunic. She glanced at +the ring as it slid loosely on, and was amazed to see what such an +outsider had chosen.</p> + +<p>The "smart thing" in London and New York was, not to have the "stodgy +old curtain-ring" which had been woman's badge of subjection for +centuries. Instead, the idea was a band of platinum set round with +diamonds; and this was what Garth had hit upon!</p> + +<p>While Marise was on her knees—shamefaced because there was nothing she +dared pray about—she thought of the ring, and wondered who on earth had +put Garth up to getting it?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>When all was over, and the words which should be momentous were spoken, +"I pronounce you man and wife," the girl lifted her face with the +hardest expression it had ever worn. Eyes and lips said, "This is where +the bridegroom kisses the bride. But that's not in <i>our</i> programme. +Don't dare to take advantage of your Colonel being here."</p> + +<p>Whether Garth read the signal, or whether he'd no intention of keeping +the time-honoured custom, he refrained. Instead of a kiss, he gave the +bride a slight smile, gone so quickly she wondered if she'd imagined it.</p> + +<p>In another moment, after she'd been pressed in her mother's arms, Lord +Pobblebrook was shaking hands; and then came Severance.</p> + +<p>It was a good minute for him, because Garth was kept busy by a kind +Colonel and a not very kind mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>"Let no man put them asunder!" the Reverend David Jones had just said, +but there already was the man who intended, in the devil's good time, to +disobey that command.</p> + +<p>"This has been the worst half-hour of my life," Tony groaned. "My God, +how I've suffered! I all but sprang up and yelled 'Stop!' when the fool +looked round for someone to say why the marriage shouldn't take +place——"</p> + +<p>"'Or else <i>for ever after</i> hold his peace,'" quoted Marise.</p> + +<p>"Dash it all, don't rub things in," Severance begged. "I didn't know how +bad it would be——"</p> + +<p>"I half thought you <i>might</i> spring up!" the girl confessed.</p> + +<p>"If I had, what would you have done?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't know."</p> + +<p>"It would have made matters worse for the future—more difficult all +round," Tony said. "That thought held me back. But, Marise, it was cruel +to spring this surprise on me."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't seem to have been a surprise," she reminded him. "How <i>did</i> +you know about it—the church, and everything?"</p> + +<p>"A little bird told me. Why did you want to hurt me so?"</p> + +<p>Marise shrugged her shoulders. "You had hurt me—almost to death. I +<i>had</i> to strike back! But let's not talk of it any more. The thing's +done—and can't be undone."</p> + +<p>"It can, and will be, before long, please Heaven!"</p> + +<p>The girl laughed. "Please <i>Heaven</i>?" And she was glad when Pobbles broke +in, Mums at his side.</p> + +<p>"My dear young lady, Garth confided in me (am I not his Colonel, which +is much the same as a father confessor?) that this—er—this little show +had been got up in a hurry for one reason or other. I'm pleased and +honoured to be in at the dea—I mean the birth—er—you <i>know</i> what I +mean! And I'd be still more pleased if—er—couldn't we—I—invite you +all to some sort of blow-out? My wife——"</p> + +<p>"Sweet of you, Lord Pobblebrook!" cut in Mrs. Sorel. "But if there'd +been time for any sort of rejoicing, any little feast, I should be +giving it and asking Lady Pobblebrook and yourself to join us. But I +suppose Major Garth can't quite have made it clear to you that he is +called away suddenly—on a sort of <i>mission</i>. That's why the marriage +was so rushed. He has to go at once, so he wanted to be married first, +and——"</p> + +<p>"Take my wife with me," explained Garth.</p> + +<p>His mother-in-law of ten minutes stared at him with the eyes of a cold, +boiled fish.</p> + +<p>"Of course—yes—that's what he <i>wanted</i>," she smiled to Pobbles. "What +a pity it can't be! My daughter, Lord Pobblebrook, is a servant of the +public, you know. She has to obey them, marriage or no marriage. And +they want her in New York."</p> + +<p>"Not as much as I want her out West," said Garth. He smiled again—that +same queer smile with the same unreadable look in his eyes, though this +time both were for Mums.</p> + +<p>The indignant lady turned to Marise, in case there were some plot +against her; but the girl gave a very slight shake of her head. Light +came back to Mrs. Sorel's eyes. She ought to be able to trust her own +daughter!</p> + +<p>"I took the liberty of ordering lunch for four at the Ritz after I met +my Colonel in the hall of the Belmore," said Garth. "I stopped on the +way there, to buy the ring. But"—and he eyed Severance coolly—"there +will be room to have a fifth plate laid, if—er——"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" thought Marise. "Not so much Cave Man, after all, as the Strong, +Silent Man! All right! I know <i>that</i> kind from A to Z. And I dare say +it's just as easy to be a Strong, Silent Girl as to be a Cave Girl, if +once you begin properly."</p> + +<p>Her sense of adventure woke again as she waited to hear Tony's answer.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3>THE SPEAKING-TUBE</h3> + + +<p>Severance accepted the invitation to the Ritz. His principal reason for +doing so was because he knew it would enrage Garth.</p> + +<p>It was a strange and strained luncheon, for those present (with the +exception of "Pobbles") talked very little and thought so much that it +seemed to each one as if his or her thoughts shrieked aloud or shot from +the head in streaks of blue lightning.</p> + +<p>Marise thought, "What comes next? What does <i>He</i> mean to do?" And "He," +with a capital "H," was no longer Severance, but this stranger, Garth.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel thought, "How <i>are</i> we going to get rid of the man? I'm sure +he means mischief. Shall I appeal to Lord Severance, or would that make +matters worse?"</p> + +<p>Severance thought, "How am I to get some time alone with Marise, and +come to an understanding before I sail to-morrow morning? How are we to +arrange about our <i>letters and cables</i>?"</p> + +<p>And Garth thought, "What will She say when she finds out what I've +arranged at the Plaza?"</p> + +<p>As for Lord Pobblebrook, he had only vague, pleasant thoughts such as +men of his type do have at a wedding luncheon with plenty of champagne. +It was a very good luncheon, for they do things well at the Ritz, and +the champagne was a last song of glory before America went "dry."</p> + +<p>At last, when Severance had to give up hope of a whispered word with +Marise, he was obliged to declare his hand. "I'll call at the theatre +to-night to say good-bye if you don't mind," he announced aloud, with a +casual air. "I suppose you won't hand things over to your understudy, in +spite of what's happened to-day?"</p> + +<p>"I shall play to-night, of course," said Marise.</p> + +<p>"And every night," added Mums.</p> + +<p>Silence followed her words.</p> + +<p>"Won't you come back to the Plaza with us, Lord Pobblebrook?" asked Mrs. +Sorel. "If you have never been there, I'd like you to see what a +charming hotel it is. Next time you run over from dear England, you +might like to try it for yourself. Major Garth, I'm sorry to say, is +obliged to attend to business this afternoon—business concerned with +his <i>mission</i>, so unfortunately—unless you'll go with us—my daughter +and I will be obliged to taxi back alone."</p> + +<p>"Of course I'll come, with pleasure!" heartily consented Pobbles.</p> + +<p>"My business doesn't begin quite so early," said Garth. "If you'll drive +with Mrs. Sorel, sir, I'll take my wife as far as the Plaza."</p> + +<p>If Mums could have stabbed her son-in-law, not fatally but painfully, +with a stiletto-flash from her eyes, it would have given her infinite +satisfaction to do so. As she could not, she had to confess herself +worsted for the moment; for Lord Pobblebrook was the Colonel of Lord +Severance as well as of Major Garth; and it was for such as he that the +conventional farce of this wedding had taken place. He must not be +allowed to suspect that anything was wrong, or Tony's whole elaborate +scheme might be wrecked. It was most probable that Lord Pobblebrook and +Mr. Ionides belonged to some of the same London clubs and met now and +then.</p> + +<p>Marise was oddly dazed at finding herself alone in a taxi with Garth, +bound for the Plaza Hotel, which she thought of as "home." She had +expected that Tony or Mums would succeed in rescuing her, but neither +had risen to the occasion: and the girl realised that this lack of +initiative on their part was due to the presence of Pobbles. She hardly +knew whether to be more vexed or amused at Garth's triumph (she supposed +that he considered it such); but her lips twitched with that fatal sense +of humour which Mums so disapproved.</p> + +<p>"It is rather funny, isn't it?" said her companion.</p> + +<p>Marise stiffened. This was a critical moment. Much depended upon the +start she made on stepping over the threshold of this strange situation. +She must be careful to keep the whip hand.</p> + +<p>"What I was laughing at is funny, in a way," she grudged. "It +occurred to me that it was smart of you to bring your Colonel +to—to—the—er——"</p> + +<p>"Show," suggested Garth.</p> + +<p>"If you like to call it that."</p> + +<p>"I thought the word pretty well described it from your point of view," +explained Garth.</p> + +<p>Marise looked straight at him.</p> + +<p>"What was it from yours? It can't have been much more."</p> + +<p>"I don't feel bound to tell you what it was from mine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, you needn't!" Her chin went up. "I'm not really curious."</p> + +<p>"Why should you be? You'll find out in time."</p> + +<p>A spark lit the blue eyes under the blue hat.</p> + +<p>"I do hope you're not planning to spring any surprises on me, Major +Garth," she said, in an acid tone that was a youthful copy of Mums, +"because, if you are, it will only lead to unpleasantness. Whereas, if +you keep to the spirit of the bargain, we——"</p> + +<p>"Allow me to point out," Garth cut in, with an impersonal air of +detachment which puzzled her, "that you yourself have 'queered' the +'bargain.'"</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you mean," exclaimed Marise.</p> + +<p>"That's another instance of your not thinking things out beforehand," he +said. "If you'd stopped to reflect a minute before you proposed to marry +me this morning you'd have seen what you were up against."</p> + +<p>Marise felt the blood rush to her cheeks, as if the man had slapped them +with the flat of his big hand.</p> + +<p>"What a way of putting it!" she flashed at him. "You may be a hero and +all that—no doubt you are, as you're a V.C. But as a man—a +<i>gentleman</i>—I'm afraid you've got quite a lot to learn."</p> + +<p>"Of course I have," said Garth. "You knew I was only a temporary +gentleman. I heard Severance state the fact to you on shipboard when he +was telling you some of my other disadvantages. Scratch a temporary +gentleman, and under the surface you find——"</p> + +<p>"What?" Marise threw into a pause.</p> + +<p>"The things you'll find in me, when you know me better."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she breathed. And on second thoughts added, "I don't intend to +'scratch' you, and find things under the surface. I don't suppose I +shall ever know you much better."</p> + +<p>"Call it worse, then," he suggested.</p> + +<p>"Neither better, nor worse!"</p> + +<p>"Yet you've just promised to take me for both."</p> + +<p>"That meant nothing, as you know very well."</p> + +<p>"I do not know anything of the sort."</p> + +<p>"Then you <i>are</i> a 'temporary gentleman' indeed! We spoke just now of +that bargain——"</p> + +<p>"Which, through your own actions, doesn't exist."</p> + +<p>"Of course it exists. You talk in riddles!"</p> + +<p>"When you put your mind to this one, it will cease to be a riddle. +You'll guess it in a moment. You'll see what you've done. Probably +Severance would have told you before this if he'd had the chance. The +explanation, if there has to be one, will come better from him than from +me. But I may as well break one small detail to you before we get to the +hotel; I've no intention of leaving him alone with you for a minute, or +any part of a minute, before he sails."</p> + +<p>"How dare you hope to lay down the law for me?" Marise almost gasped, +over a wildly-throbbing heart. "I shall see Lord Severance alone as much +as I choose—and as he chooses."</p> + +<p>"You can try," said Garth. "So can he."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> won't have any chance to prevent it! You shan't even come into my +mother's suite at the Plaza Hotel if you attempt to put on these +ridiculous airs of being my master. I wonder who you think you <i>are</i>, +Major Garth?"</p> + +<p>"The important thing—to you and your mother and to Severance—is not so +much what I think I am, as what other people will think I am. They will +think I'm your husband. I understand that this marriage idea was +entirely for appearance' sake?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly!" cried Marise.</p> + +<p>"Then it's up to you and me to look after the appearances. I warned you +this morning that you hadn't thought the thing out enough, and that +you'd better think hard, then and there. Perhaps you did. If so, +you——"</p> + +<p>"I didn't. How could I? There was no time."</p> + +<p>"That's what you said. Consequently I had to do the thinking for you. +And the arranging of your future. I never was a slow chap. My life was +always more or less of a hustle since I was a very small kid, and I had +to keep my thinking machine on the jump. The war has speeded it up a +bit. This morning, when you announced that you'd be ready to be married +in an hour or less, I'll tell you just what I had to do. I had to inform +the manager of your hotel that I was marrying Miss Sorel, and that we +couldn't get away from New York for a few days——"</p> + +<p>"You—dared to do that!"</p> + +<p>"I got my V.C. for doing something almost as dangerous. I told him he +must give us a suite——"</p> + +<p>"You—you <i>devil</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you. I guess even that sounds more natural from a wife to a +husband than 'Major Garth.'"</p> + +<p>"You don't dream I'm going to occupy a suite with you, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"I don't dream. I know you are going to occupy that suite, unless you +want me openly to leave you on our wedding day. This comes of your not +thinking what would happen next. You'd better choose now, because we'll +soon be at the Plaza. Is it to be my hotel or not?"</p> + +<p>"You said—when my mother explained to Lord Pobblebrook that you had a +mission—you said you were going West."</p> + +<p>"And that I intended to take you with me. But that won't be for a few +days, till you've had time to settle your affairs. I don't want to rush +you. What I ask you to decide now is for meanwhile, before we start."</p> + +<p>"I shall never start anywhere with you—or live anywhere meanwhile with +you."</p> + +<p>"Very well then, that's that. Now I know where I am." He seized the +speaking-tube, but Marise caught his hand.</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Stop the taxi and get out. The snap's off."</p> + +<p>The girl was about to exclaim, "But you can't leave me like this!" when +it occurred to her that, desperado as he was turning out, it would be +well to take him at his word; at all events, to a certain extent.</p> + +<p>"Very well," she said. "I shall tell everyone that you've gone West on +an important mission. V.C.'s are always expected to have missions."</p> + +<p>"And I shall tell everyone that I've done nothing of the sort. I'll go +back to the Belmore, 'phone to the Plaza and countermand the suite I +took, and allow myself to be interviewed by all the reporters, who'll +swarm round me like flies round a honeypot. There'll be plenty of flies +left for you. You can give them honey or vinegar, I don't care which. +It's your concern, not mine. I don't even care what they make of the +combination: my story and yours. It'll be <i>some</i> story, though. That's +the one thing sure."</p> + +<p>"You're an absolute brute!" cried Marise.</p> + +<p>"What did you expect? You heard from Severance that I was a bounder. I'm +a fighting man. That's about all, for the moment."</p> + +<p>"You mean, you're fighting me?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the least. I'm fighting the battle of appearances, which means +I'm fighting <i>for</i> you."</p> + +<p>"What makes you think there'll be reporters waiting?" Marise changed the +subject. "Did you tell anyone?"</p> + +<p>"The manager of your hotel and mine. I didn't tell him in confidence. +There was no idea of keeping the marriage a secret, was there?"</p> + +<p>"No-o."</p> + +<p>"Well, then! Am I or am I not to stop the taxi and get out?"</p> + +<p>"Wait," Marise temporised. "You must please understand that I'm not +going to live with you as your wife."</p> + +<p>"I haven't asked you to do so, although you did ask me to become your +husband. After last Sunday, I would never have started the subject, or +even have tried to meet you again. Please, on your part, understand +that."</p> + +<p>The girl's breath was caught away for the dozenth time. She spoke more +quietly. "I know you haven't asked me, in so many words," she admitted. +"But you spoke of a <i>suite</i>."</p> + +<p>"Certainly I spoke of a suite. I thought you and your mother were +anxious to keep up conventions. Though I'm not Severance's sort of +gentleman—perhaps <i>because</i> I'm not—you can trust me not to behave +like a brute, even though you're thinking that I speak like one. Or, if +you can't trust me as far as that, you ought never to have run the risk +you have run."</p> + +<p>"But can I trust you—to keep to the bargain?"</p> + +<p>"I've told you that owing to your own act, there <i>is</i> no bargain. +Haven't you solved that 'puzzle' yet?"</p> + +<p>"I have not."</p> + +<p>"You will soon. Do I stop here?"</p> + +<p>"Bargain or no bargain then, <i>can</i> I trust you?"</p> + +<p>"Look me in the face and judge."</p> + +<p>She looked him in the face.</p> + +<p>In spite of the war tan, not faded yet, he was pale; and his pupils +seemed to have flowed like ink over the yellow-grey iris. His eyes were +black as they blazed into hers. He might, she thought, commit murder in +that mood, but—he could do nothing mean, nothing sly, nothing vile.</p> + +<p>"I must trust you, and I do."</p> + +<p>Garth let the speaking-tube fall.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + +<h3>AU REVOIR—TILL SOMETIME!</h3> + + +<p>When Marise and Garth arrived together in Mrs. Sorel's salon, it was to +find a "bunch" of reporters interviewing the bride's mother.</p> + +<p>Marise guessed that Mums had had the young men up in order to tell them +what she chose about Major Garth's future movements before Garth had +time to arrive and speak for himself. But by these tactics she had lost +the supporting presence of Lord Severance. Fearing his uncle, and +perhaps even detectives set to spy upon him by Constantine Ionides, the +last thing he could afford was to have his name appear in print in +connection with this surprise wedding. Fearing reporters, he had not +even come to the hotel door with Mrs. Sorel, but had gone with his +Colonel to pay respects due to lady Pobblebrook; and this was well, for +some sharp eye and stylo would have spotted him even in the background +of a taxi.</p> + +<p>Mums had not only approved, she had advised this prudence. Everything +depended upon it, in fact; and she had soothed Tony by assuring him that +she and Marise—or she alone—could deal with Garth if Garth were uppish +and needed keeping in his place. It was arranged between Mrs. Sorel and +Lord Severance that the latter should come to "Dolores's" dressing-room +at the theatre to say good-bye, and Mums would see that he got a few +minutes at least alone with Marise. Then, in a few weeks he would be +back and they would meet again. Mrs. Sorel had provisionally accepted +the loan of Bell Towers until he and Œnone should want the house for +themselves, whereupon the Sorels could gracefully retire to some +charming place they would hope to find in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>Of course, this acceptance of Bell Towers must depend upon Marise +leaving the stage: but Mums said that, if Tony were indeed shortly to be +left a widower, the sooner Marise could be disassociated from the +theatre, the better it would be for all concerned.</p> + +<p>Thus it happened that when "Major and Mrs. Garth" walked into the room a +few minutes after Mums' arrival, they found her as busy with a crowd of +reporters as a conjurer who keeps a dozen oranges in the air at once.</p> + +<p>Mary Sorel was chagrined at sight of her son-in-law.</p> + +<p>Not that she thought of him as such, or as the husband of her daughter. +She was a woman whom circumstances had forced to become unscrupulous. +Ever since Marise had begun, as a flapper, to show signs of unusual +beauty and talent, Mums had buckled on a steely armour in which to fight +the world for her girl. Naturally conventional, she had adjusted a nice +balance between ambition and conscience. When she was obliged to do a +thing in itself objectionable, she hastily gilded it for her own benefit +as well as that of Marise, seeing it as she wished it to be. Garth in +her eyes, therefore, was no more important than one of the leading men +with whom Marise played her star parts; and as—like a leading man—he +was to be well paid, he would have no right to obtrude upon the star's +private life.</p> + +<p>She intended that, no matter how he protested, he should immediately be +"called away"; and she had hoped to get just what she wanted scribbled +into the notebooks of these reporters before Garth could interfere. +Without feeling in the least guilty, therefore, she was upset when he +had the bad taste to stalk in with Marise.</p> + +<p>"Hello, boys!" he breezily greeted the newspaper men, some of whom he +had met before.</p> + +<p>They were delighted to see him, as well as Marise, and Mrs. Sorel's +painstaking work went by the board in a minute. With rage and anguish +she heard Garth say that when he "went West" (no longer in the sad +vernacular of soldiers) his wife would go with him.</p> + +<p>"She'll be leaving the stage, you know, as soon as she can manage to get +free," he explained. "And then I'm going to take her out to my adopted +state, Arizona."</p> + +<p>His mother-in-law's interpolations that "it must be a long time first" +were scarcely heard; and all her "exclusive information" was hurriedly +blue-pencilled by the newspaper men. In the midst of this (to her) +extremely painful scene, Sheridan and Belloc, author and manager, burst +in like a couple of bombs. They had heard the news, and dashed to the +Plaza in search of the truth.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose we ought to congratulate you and all that," grumbled +Belloc, when his worst fears had been confirmed by the sight of Garth, +well known from journalistic snapshots. "We might have suspected +something was in the wind, the way you've been an every-nighter for the +'Spring Song,' Major. But safety first!—and we can't be polite till +we're out of the woods. You're not going to tear Miss Sorel away from +us, of course, in the midst of the run?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Sorel has ceased to exist, hasn't she?" asked Garth, with a rather +glum smile.</p> + +<p>"Not ceased to exist professionally." Belloc explained his meaning to +the lay mind. "And I hope she won't cease for many years."</p> + +<p>"If I can answer for her, she'll do no more acting after she's handed in +her notice to you—two weeks, I suppose, like most contracts," Garth +returned. "It's hard on you, in the middle of a run. But didn't I see in +some Sunday supplement a photo of a beautiful young lady, labelled 'Miss +Sorel's Understudy'? And as you say 'safety first!'—naturally I put my +own safety before yours."</p> + +<p>"As if anyone would go to the 'Spring Song' to see Marise's understudy!" +broke out Mrs. Sorel.</p> + +<p>"Well, in <i>my</i> 'Spring Song' there's no understudy to take her part. She +has to play it herself," retorted Garth. "But I leave the decision to +her."</p> + +<p>As he spoke he looked straight at Marise—a warning look, as she read +it. The thought of his threat was sharp as the point of a knife, +pricking a painful reminder into her breast.</p> + +<p>The girl could hear every word he had said to her in the taxi between +church and hotel—hear the whole conversation as though it were being +repeated by a gramophone. If she ventured to promise Belloc and Sheridan +now that she would stay on in spite of her marriage, this big, +uncompromising fellow would turn his back on her, giving to the public +some garbled story of the desertion, a story which would shame her and +ruin Tony's plans. She could have stamped her foot and burst into tears, +as the emotional Spanish "Dolores" had to do in one scene of the play: +but the reporters were all eyes and ears, and would simply "eat" an +exhibition of the star's fury with her brand-new bridegroom. Oh, she was +at the beast's mercy in this first round of their fight—and well he +must know it, or he'd not dare give her such a lead!</p> + +<p>"Of course Marise wouldn't leave two old friends in the lurch at a +fortnight's notice," Mrs. Sorel gave her ultimatum. "This is only a joke +of Major Garth's."</p> + +<p>"No, Mums, I'm afraid it isn't," said the girl, her cheeks hot, her eyes +filling with tears. "We—we were talking things over in the taxi just +now, and—and—well anyhow there's a fortnight to get Susanne Neville +into shape as Dolores before I have to—go. She's so clever and pretty, +I shall probably be jealous as a cat of the hit she makes in 'Dolores.'"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel was stricken dumb for once. Not that she intended to let +things fall to pieces in any such way; but she was sure Marise wouldn't +pronounce what sounded like her own doom without reason. Mums would have +it out with Marise and the Terrible Garth when everyone else had safely +faded away.</p> + +<p>The best she could do was to go herself to the vestibule door when the +reporters left in a body and breathe a few words to them. "I wouldn't +take all this as being definitely decided, if I were you. There may be a +quick change. Better say that nothing's settled." And again, when Belloc +and Sheridan gloomily departed, "Don't give up. I'll 'phone you later. +There's sure to be better news!"</p> + +<p>Returning, Mary Sorel the dauntless was surprised and disgusted to find +herself vaguely afraid of the man she had despised. She had the same +fear of him that one has of an impersonal force like electricity, which +cannot be counted on, and of which little is known except that it may +strike without considering one's feelings in the least. She tried to +shake off the sensation, however, for the man had evidently hypnotised +Marise in some secret, deadly way, perhaps by threats of violence. All +was lost if she—Mary—did not keep her head.</p> + +<p>She entered the salon, therefore, with a bustling air. "Now, Major +Garth," she began, "I hope to hear the meaning of this—this +<i>ridiculous</i> talk of my daughter throwing over her engagement and going +West with you."</p> + +<p>"She's thrown over one engagement in favour of another, hasn't she?" +Garth inquired with his habitual quiet insolence. "If you asked the +Reverend Mr. Jones, I think he'd say she had."</p> + +<p>"I wish to ask no one anything about my daughter," Mrs. Sorel crushed +the upstart. "I merely assert that it's time this nonsense ceased. It's +gone disastrously far already."</p> + +<p>"It's up to you and Marise to say how much further it shall go."</p> + +<p>"'Marise'! Who gave you permission to call her Marise?"</p> + +<p>Garth laughed. Even the girl uttered a faint hysterical giggle. It was +rather funny to hear poor Mums ask that! But then Mums prided herself on +having no vulgar sense of humour to interfere with justice.</p> + +<p>"What would you like me to call her?" the man wanted to know. "'Miss +Sorel' would be hardly proper now. And for a husband to call his wife +'Mrs. Garth' would be more suited, wouldn't it, to the lower circles I +sprang from, than the high ones where she moves?"</p> + +<p>Mary Sorel was reduced to heaving silence. As she bit her lip, Garth +turned to Marise. "Would you prefer me to make things clear to your +mother, or would you rather I'd go, and leave it to you?"</p> + +<p>Marise snatched at the chance he gave. "Go, please," she answered +quickly. "I'll—tell Mums what you—said in the taxi. She and I will +talk things over, and—and I'll see you again to-morrow or sometime."</p> + +<p>"Or sometime," he echoed.</p> + +<p>The girl expected him to remind her rudely of the bridal suite he had +engaged in the hotel, but he did not. He took up his smart Guards cap, +laid the handsome lavender-grey overcoat on his arm, and went to the +door. "Au revoir," he said, pronouncing his French remarkably well for a +man of the lower stratum. Then, without a word as to the next meeting, +in spite of all his threats, he was gone.</p> + +<p>What <i>did</i> it mean? Marise asked herself. Had he been bluffing? Or had +he seen the monstrous folly of terrorising her? She would have given +much to know. Perhaps he guessed that!</p> + +<p>Ostentatiously Mums flew to lock the door. She locked it loudly, and +running back took Marise into her arms. "My poor child!" she wailed. +"What has he <i>done</i> to you? You are like a dove with a snake!"</p> + +<p>Strange, that in a turmoil of anger and dread as she was, Marise was +continually wanting to laugh! The thought of herself as a fluttering +dove and the big, brutal Garth as a sinuous snake was comic! But there +was, alas, nothing else comic in the situation, and she explained it as +she saw it, while Mums punctuated each sentence with moans.</p> + +<p>"It's awful!" sighed Mary at last. "But there's nothing really to be +<i>feared</i>, so we must cheer up. Our protection is that this fellow's poor +as a church rat (I <i>can't</i> call him a mouse!). When it comes to the +point he will have to toe the mark, and keep to his bargain——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that's it!" cried Marise. "He says through <i>my</i> action the bargain +is off. He wouldn't explain what he meant: said I'd see for myself +sooner or later. But I don't see yet. Do you?"</p> + +<p>"I do not, indeed. I believe it's only more wicked bluff on his part. He +talks of taking you West with him. What does he expect you to live on? +Your own money? He hasn't got his million dollars yet, and he'll lose +the lot unless he behaves himself," Mums laid down the law. "For +goodness' sake, though, don't complain to Tony of the creature's +threats! Tony would fight him—kill him, perhaps. What a sickening +scandal! No, you've made an appalling mistake by marrying Garth before +you needed to do so, and giving him a hold over you just as Tony is +going so far away. But you can take care of yourself—or if you can't I +can take care of you. As for this suite the man boasts about, I'll +'phone down now to the manager and question him. If it adjoins this, as +it probably does—that would have been arranged if possible, no +doubt—why, everything will be simple enough."</p> + +<p>Marise did not answer. She was beginning to think that nothing was quite +simple where Garth was concerned.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + +<h3>WHY THE BARGAIN WAS OFF</h3> + + +<p>Marise started late for the theatre, because she felt unequal to coping +with her fellow actors' and actresses' well-meaning good wishes. She +went alone with Céline, for Mums had developed a nervous sick headache, +and the girl, like a dutiful daughter, had begged her to rest at home.</p> + +<p>"You'll be more able to help me out with—any complications that may +come afterwards," she said.</p> + +<p>The star's wonderfully decorated dressing-room was entered through a +still more wonderfully decorated reception or ante-room; and almost +running in, Marise stopped short with a gasp of surprise. Not only was +the place crammed with flowers—all white, bridal flowers (that in +itself was not strange), but in the midst of them sat Garth, still in +uniform. As his wife appeared he rose, grave and silent, as if awaiting +a cue.</p> + +<p>"Take these things into the dressing-room, Céline," ordered Marise, +tossing her gold bag and furs to the maid. "I'll be there in a minute."</p> + +<p>When Céline had obeyed, the girl looked the man up and down.</p> + +<p>"Visitors don't intrude here, except by invitation," she informed him.</p> + +<p>"Have you invited Lord Severance to intrude?" Garth asked.</p> + +<p>"No-o, I haven't invited him."</p> + +<p>"But he's coming, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly he may come. You know quite well, that's different."</p> + +<p>"I do know. Just because it <i>is</i> different, I don't mean him to come +unless I'm here too. But I've no wish to interfere with you otherwise. +And if you tell me on your honour that you won't receive Severance alone +(I don't count your maid as a chaperon), I'll go now. By the way, don't +blame anyone for admitting me. The news is in all the late editions of +the evening papers, I suppose you know, and naturally the bridegroom was +expected to pay a call upon the bride."</p> + +<p>Marise gazed at the formidable figure in khaki for a minute, and then +without a word went into her dressing-room.</p> + +<p>Mums, very likely, would have told the man a fib, getting rid of him by +a promise not to see Severance alone. But the girl—though she, too, +told fibs sometimes if driven into a corner—couldn't bring herself to +utter one now. There was no time for a "scene," even if she were not in +danger of coming out second best, so the dignified course was to retire. +Tony wouldn't show up till the end of the first act at earliest; and if +then she stood talking to someone or other outside her dressing-room as +long as she dared, there might be time for a whisper with him while the +watch-dog lay vainly in wait on the wrong side of the door!</p> + +<p>Helped by Céline she dressed quickly, hearing no sound from the +ante-room until the call-boy bounded in to shout her name. Instantly she +ran through, half hoping that Garth had gone, though determined not to +glance in his direction if he were still on the spot. He was; and +somehow, without looking, Marise knew that he was quietly reading a book +as if the place belonged to him.</p> + +<p>Wild applause greeted the entrance of "Dolores," applause even more +ardent than usual, and the play had to stop for the bride reluctantly to +bow her acknowledgments. Marise had passed such an "upsetting" day that +she came near having an attack of stage-fright, fearful of not taking +her cue, or "drying up" in her words. But to her surprise and relief, +she felt herself stronger in the part than she had ever been before. "I +believe I really <i>am</i> a great actress!" she thought; and choked at the +pity of it—the pity that—whatever happened now—she was bound to leave +the stage. "Is Tony worth it all?" she wondered. But the Other Man's +figure loomed so tall in the foreground, that she could not concentrate +on Tony long enough to answer her own question.</p> + +<p>Never had "Dolores" been impatient of too many curtain calls until now: +but to-night they were irritating. They wasted such a lot of time, and +any moment Tony might come!</p> + +<p>There was little time to linger outside her dressing-room, but she did +linger for a few minutes, talking with the reproachful Belloc. No card +or message was brought to her, however, and she knew that Severance +would not have been sent into her room without her permission. Garth sat +stolid as a Buddha when she passed through, and she went by him as if he +were a piece of furniture. She received a telepathic impression that he +did not lift his eyes from his book!</p> + +<p>The leading man had a scene with the villain of the piece at the +beginning of the second act, and this gave the star a chance to rest, or +chat with friends. It was the time when Severance generally dropped in, +and she "felt in her bones" that his name would now be announced. Nor +were her vertebræ deceived. Prompt to the usual moment a knock, answered +by Céline, brought news that "the Earl of Severance asked to see Miss +Sorel."</p> + +<p>"Tell him I'll come outside and talk with him!" she said on an impulse: +but in the ante-room Garth stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think," he said, "that you'd better have Severance shown in +here? He won't be pleased if I come out with you as if from your +dressing-room, <i>en famille</i>, so to speak. And I <i>shall</i> go out if you +go, as in the circumstances I don't care for you to speak with him +alone."</p> + +<p>"Alone, do you call it, with stage hands and creatures of all sorts +tearing about?" Marise rebelled.</p> + +<p>"You can build up a wall with a whisper," said Garth.</p> + +<p>As the girl hovered at the door, undecided, Céline returned. "Milord is +waiting outside, Mademoiselle—I mean, Madame," she announced.</p> + +<p>"Go back," ordered Marise, "and ask Lord Severance after all to come +in."</p> + +<p>The fat was in the fire now, indeed! Poor Mums' counsels concerning Tony +were vain. He would see for himself how Garth repudiated the bargain. +But it couldn't be helped. Better to have a "row" in her own quarters +than outside!</p> + +<p>Severance walked into the reception room, at his handsomest in evening +dress. He came with his hands out to the lovely "Dolores," but let them +fall at sight of Garth, and stopped just over the threshold, with a +scowl bringing his black brows together.</p> + +<p>Céline flitted by, and shut the door of the dressing-room behind her.</p> + +<p>"What are <i>you</i> doing here?" Tony flung out the words; yet he had an odd +air of keeping his own truculence under control. Marise did not quite +understand his manner, in which prudent hesitation fought with anger. +But perhaps Garth understood. He knew why Severance's tooth was loose.</p> + +<p>"I'm here," he said, "because I don't choose to have my wife talking +with you alone."</p> + +<p>Severance turned to the girl. "Marise, do you permit this man to be in +your room, pretending to control your actions?"</p> + +<p>"I have to," retorted Marise. "Since he won't leave us alone, we must +just say what we have to say before him, whether he enjoys it or not. He +isn't behaving at all according to—to contract. I would have said +'bargain,' only, whenever I mention that, he tells me there <i>isn't</i> a +bargain. According to him, I've somehow destroyed it."</p> + +<p>Severance looked stricken. "Wha—what does he mean by that?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. Ask him. We've got about fifteen minutes to have this +out, before I'm called."</p> + +<p>"That's what I'm anxious to do, 'have it out,'" said Garth. "But don't +be alarmed, my wife; there'll be no violence started by me. If there is +any it will come from the other side, whereupon I shall put the +disturber of the peace out of your room. I'm stronger than he is +physically, as he knows: and I hope to prove stronger in other ways."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk like the villain of a Melville melodrama!" blurted +Severance.</p> + +<p>"I don't think <i>I'm</i> the villain of the piece," said Garth calmly. +"Anyhow, we won't have more words about this than we need. My wife and +you both want me to explain why I say she has made the so-called +'bargain,' nil. I believe, Lord Severance—to put the thing as it is—to +face the facts—you proposed hiring me for the sum of a million dollars, +to marry Miss Sorel, treat her as a stranger when we were alone, and as +a kind husband in company, so there should be no ugly gossip about the +marriage. Then, when you were free from the invalid wife you're +financially compelled to take, I was supposed to step out of your way by +letting this lady quietly divorce me."</p> + +<p>It was useless to protest against so bald a way of putting the matter, +which sounded disgusting to Severance, and could have been thus put, he +considered, only by a very temporary gentleman. Therefore he did not +protest. He replied with stifled fury that, willingly, even eagerly, +Major Garth had consented to play a dummy's part in order to earn an +easy million.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," said Garth. "Well, I <i>have</i> married Miss Sorel. Where's the +million?"</p> + +<p>"You know as well as I do I haven't got the money yet, and can't get it +till it's given me, as promised, by my uncle Constantine Ionides, after +my wedding."</p> + +<p>"So you explained the other day. You admit you can't carry out your half +of the bargain. Yet I've carried out mine."</p> + +<p>"That's on your own head!" barked Severance. "If you were so keen on +money down, you shouldn't have married Miss Sorel till you could get +it."</p> + +<p>"What—you, an officer in the Guards, would advise a brother officer of +the Brigade to refuse to marry a lady if she proposed to him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" cried Marise; and Garth smiled at her with the yellow-grey eyes +which were more than ever like the eyes of a lion. "You <i>did</i> propose, +didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"I—said I wanted to be married—to-day," the girl hedged. "If you call +that——"</p> + +<p>"I do. Any man would. You were in a hurry. You hoped, you said, that +things might be fixed up for the wedding in an hour—or less. I fixed +things up. We were married. Now I don't get my money. Consequently I +consider myself free of any obligations concerned with the bargain. +Though I'm willing to take legal opinion on the point, if you like?"</p> + +<p>"A nice figure you'd cut if you did!" exploded Severance.</p> + +<p>"I should say, 'the woman—or the earl—tempted me, and I did eat.' I +ate by request. And I'm entitled to a core to my apple. There isn't any +core. So I have the right either to chuck the peel away and let it fall +in the mud, or else to hang on to it, and make up the best way I can for +what lacks."</p> + +<p>"I should like to kill you, Garth," said Severance.</p> + +<p>"Well, when we're both safely out of my wife's dressing-room and this +theatre, I'll give you a chance to try."</p> + +<p>The lids over the dark, Greek eyes flickered slightly. Between the two +men was a memory, a picture: a room at the Belmore Hotel, with a table +and some chairs overturned: a few spots of blood on a lavender tie: not +the tie of Garth.</p> + +<p>"Being out of her theatre wouldn't save Miss Sorel from scandal if we +made fools of ourselves," Tony said.</p> + +<p>"That's the sensible view," agreed Garth. "I'm at your service for war +or peace. But the fact remains that I am Marise Sorel's husband, and as +I'm not paid for taking on the job, you, Severance, have no concern with +my conduct to her. The rest is between my wife and myself. If she wishes +me to leave her I will do so now, at this moment—on my own terms. If +she wishes me to stay by her side for appearance' sake, I'll stay—also +on my own terms."</p> + +<p>"What are your terms?" Tony's dry lips formed the words almost without +sound.</p> + +<p>"They'll be settled to-night between my wife and me. You have nothing +whatever to do with them."</p> + +<p>"If—if you fail in respect for her, you never get your million dollars +when the time comes!" Severance almost sobbed.</p> + +<p>"When the time comes—the time can decide," said Garth.</p> + +<p>"Miss Sorel!" bawled the call-boy at the door.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2> + +<h3>THE BRIDAL SUITE</h3> + + +<p>It was, as Severance told himself, the damnedest scrape! And he could +see no present way out of it. Turn as he would, he was merely running +round and round in a "vicious circle."</p> + +<p>He couldn't murder Garth, or otherwise eliminate him, without setting +fire to his dearest hopes, and seeing his fortune go up in a blaze. +Garth mustn't be allowed to walk away from Marise, leaving her in the +position of a deserted bride, after a sensational wedding. Nor could +Severance bear to think of the man's remaining near her, now that he +proclaimed the bargain "off," and himself free and independent.</p> + +<p>If only the fellow might be knocked over by a taxi and killed, there +would be the perfect solution! But even that ought not to happen just +yet. It wouldn't do for Marise to be known as a widow before he, +Severance, could bring Œnone to America as a bride. The celebrated +Miss Sorel might as well never have been married at all, so far as old +Constantine Ionides was concerned.</p> + +<p>There were two faintly glimmering spots in the general blackness of +things. <i>Bright</i> spots they hardly deserved to be called! Such as they +were, one was the fact that Garth—despite his bluff—was unlikely to +sacrifice all hope of the million by making forbidden love to Marise. +The other gleam was: even if Garth did play the fool as well as the cad, +Marise had asserted up to the last moment that she could take care of +herself.</p> + +<p>Severance had reason to believe that she could. If she'd not had a cool +little head, and a high opinion of her own value, the favourite actress +would not have attained the position she held. "Lots of chaps had been +after her," including Tony Severance: men of title, men with money, men +of genius, men of charm, and she had held her own with them all, forcing +their respect. Well, there wasn't much chance for a bullying brute of +Garth's stamp, to get the best of a girl like that!</p> + +<p>So Severance consoled himself, after his decision at the theatre that +nothing would be gained by attempting to "rescue" Marise from Garth. +After leaving her—bidding her good-bye for long and anxious weeks—he +could not resist 'phoning Mrs. Sorel at the Plaza, though Marise had +told him that Mums was bowled over by a sick headache. He rang the poor +lady up—literally up!—and discussed the situation with her, not daring +to call for fear of detectives set upon him by cable from London. The +poor lady, dragged out of bed, was sympathetic and soothing. Everything +was "perfectly all right," she assured him. She would watch over Marise +for his sake as well as her own. Marise would watch over herself, too! +And she—Mary Sorel—would write or cable Tony to his club twice or +three times a week.</p> + +<p>"I'd go down to the docks and see you off to-morrow morning, dear boy, +no matter at what ghastly hour you sail," Mums said, "only I don't think +it would be wise, do you?"</p> + +<p>No, Tony didn't. But she might send him a note by messenger to the ship, +with all the latest news.</p> + +<p>She would do that without fail, Mary promised; and so at last hung up +the receiver with a sigh which would have frightened Severance had it +reached him on the wire. Mums was not as calm about the future as she +had tried to make her "dear boy" think!</p> + +<p>Though she had been lying down, she crawled off the bed again, and put +on a smart tea-gown before it was time for her daughter to come home. +She had little doubt that the Beast would be with Marise; and her own +attempt at "frightfulness" having failed against his armour of +brutality, she intended to try diplomacy in the next encounter.</p> + +<p>Already she had learned that the suite engaged by Major Garth for +himself and his bride did not adjoin the one occupied by herself and +Marise since their arrival in New York. It appeared that the manager had +offered a suite of two rooms and a bath next to the Sorel suite, but +Major Garth had refused this as being too small. Nothing "large enough +for his requirements" had been available near Mrs. Sorel; but +fortunately it was on the same floor.</p> + +<p>This, the manager seemed to think, ought to content the lady; and +indeed, she was obliged to pretend satisfaction. She would like to see +the suite, she had said; but to her dismay the privilege was refused +with regret. Major Garth, the manager explained, had given a "rush +order" for some special decorations to surprise Mrs. Garth; and he had +requested that no one—<i>no one at all</i> except the decorators—should be +allowed to enter until the bridal pair arrived.</p> + +<p>"But," Mrs. Sorel had argued, "he couldn't have meant <i>me</i>. Besides, if +no one goes in, my daughter won't have any of her toilet things ready. +There will be a scramble and confusion when she comes home tired from +the theatre."</p> + +<p>The manager, however, was reluctantly firm. He "mustn't tell tales out +of school," but he thought he <i>might</i> just relieve Mrs. Sorel's fears by +saying that there would be no trouble at all of that sort. The Major's +"surprise" would—he hoped—be as pleasing to her as to the bride. And +whatever had to be done in addition could be accomplished in a few +minutes by Mrs. Garth's maid.</p> + +<p>Naturally, Mrs. Sorel was on tenterhooks after this information, which +she had obtained by telephone, lying on her bed, soon after Marise and +Céline left for the theatre. It determined her to be prepared for +battle, no matter how ill she might feel: for it was impossible that +Marise should ever cross the threshold of that mysteriously decorated +suite. Therefore the neat coiffure of the aching head, and the dignified +tea-gown of satin and jet.</p> + +<p>On the few occasions when Mums had been unable to go with Marise to the +theatre, the girl had either returned early, or telephoned that she +would be late in reaching home. Mrs. Sorel expected her to start for the +hotel to-night the instant she was dressed and had her make-up off. She +would doubtless be thankful to escape questions, and get back to her +mother—which really meant, ridding herself of Garth.</p> + +<p>But time crept on. Marise was half an hour late: then three-quarters. +What could have happened? Had that monster kidnapped the poor child?</p> + +<p>At the thought, Mums experienced the sensation of cold water slowly +trickling through her spine. "What shall I do?" she wondered. And her +mind turned to the thought—the terrible thought—of applying to the +police. If she took this extreme step, what would be the result? Could a +man be arrested for abducting his own wife?</p> + +<p>As she writhed and sighed helplessly on a sofa in sight of the mantel +clock, Céline's familiar tap sounded at the door, and the Frenchwoman +came in. Mrs. Sorel's anguished eyes saw that she looked pale and +excited. Her own heart seemed to rise and shrug itself in her breast, +then collapse sickeningly upon other organs.</p> + +<p>"For Heaven's sake, where is Mademoiselle?" she panted.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Madame," sighed Céline, "we must speak of Mademoiselle no more."</p> + +<p>"Why—why?" broke in the distracted mother.</p> + +<p>"But, because she is now indeed 'Madame'! She is with—her <i>husband</i>."</p> + +<p>"Where?" gasped Mrs. Sorel.</p> + +<p>"In their suite. A suite of great magnificence."</p> + +<p>The unhappy Mums staggered to her feet, among falling cushions.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious!" she groaned. "He has dragged her there——"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Madame, it is not so bad as that," Céline soothed her. "<i>Madame +la Jeune Mariée</i> appeared to go with Monsieur of her own will. She +showed no fear. She was only a little quiet—a little strange. It must +have been arranged at the theatre, what was to happen, for I was with +them in a car—but yes, a car, no taxi!—which Monsieur had ordered to +wait at the stage door. I sat, not with the chauffeur, but inside on one +of the little fold-up seats. The two did not speak at all, Madame, not +once, till we had arrived here, at the hotel. Then Mademoiselle—I mean +Madame Garth—said, 'I should like Céline to come with me.' 'Very well, +let her come,' Monsieur answered. That was all. I went with them. +Monsieur asked for his key. It was given him. We were taken up in the +<i>ascenseur</i> to this floor. But instead of turning to the right, we +turned left. Monsieur unlocked the door, switched on lights, and stood +aside for Madame his wife to pass. Even me, he let go in before him. +Then he followed and shut the door."</p> + +<p>"What then?" breathed Mrs. Sorel.</p> + +<p>"Mon Dieu, Madame, the suite was of a magnificence! It must be the best +in the house. The suite in which they put royalties who come visiting +from Europe. And not only that, the whole place has been made a garden +of flowers—wonderful flowers. This Monsieur le Majeur must be, after +all, though he does not look it, a millionaire!"</p> + +<p>"He is far from being a millionaire," sneered Mums. "He hasn't a sou, so +far as I've heard. He'll probably charge all this wild extravagance to +us. He's capable of it—capable of <i>anything</i>! But go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, Madame, the suite has an entrance hall of its own, not a tiny +vestibule like this one. The hall has many pots of gorgeous azaleas, of +colours like a sunrise in paradise. <i>Madame la Jeune Mariée</i> walked into +the salon. The husband went also. But, me, I stood outside waiting. I +could see into the room, however. I chose my place for that purpose, to +see! A lovely salon of pearl grey and soft rose. And the flowers there +were all roses, different shades of pink. There were many, some growing +in pots, very tall; some cut ones in crystal vases and jars: and on a +table, a marvellous bowl, illuminated, with flowers floating on the +surface of bright water. Also, Madame, there were presents, jewels in +cases. If these, as Madame says, are to be charged to her, Mon Dieu, it +will be a disaster!"</p> + +<p>"What were the presents?" The question asked itself, out of the turmoil +that was Mums' mind. But behind the turmoil a voice seemed crying, "Why +do you stop here talking of trifles, instead of rushing to save your +wretched child?"</p> + +<p>But Céline was replying. After all, what use to go, since the door of +the suite would be closed, and one could not shriek and beat upon the +panels for the whole world to hear!</p> + +<p>"There was a large case with a double row of pearls. It must be, I +think, not a string, but a rope. There was also a lovely thing for the +hair, a wreath of laurel leaves made of green stones, doubtless +emeralds. And there was a pendant, a star of diamonds with a great +cabochon sapphire—Mademoiselle's beloved jewel!—in the centre. There +may have been other things, but those were all I remarked. I saw them +from the doorway. Yet, if Madame will believe me, <i>la Jeune Mariée</i> did +not regard them. Neither did Monsieur draw her attention to his +gifts—no, not by gesture nor word."</p> + +<p>"She must have said <i>something</i>!" cried Mary.</p> + +<p>"She murmured that the flowers were charming. You would have thought she +had not seen the jewels, though she must have seen them, Madame, if I +saw from my distance. Monsieur asked if she would like to view the rest +of the suite. She answered, 'Oh yes, please!' Then, out into the +entrance hall they came. Monsieur threw open the door of a room next the +salon, and as he did so put on the lights. But—with that, he stepped +back. My young lady called me, 'Céline!' I ran to her, and he stopped +there in the hall. Ah, another surprise! Not the beauty of this great +bedroom. That one would expect in such a suite—a <i>white</i> room, Madame, +and white flowers, roses not too heavily perfumed! But the surprise was +on the toilet-table. Brushes, bottles, everything, oh, so delicious a +set!—in gold. A queen could have no better. On the bed, Madame, lay a +<i>robe de chambre</i> more beautiful than any that Mademoiselle has ever +possessed—which Madame knows, is to say much!—and on the floor—like +blossoms fallen on the white fur rug—lay a little pair of <i>mules</i>, made +of gold embroidery on cloth of silver, and having buckles of old paste +fit for the slippers of Cinderella! When she had looked round for a few +moments, quite silent, Madame, the bride turned to me. 'Now you have +seen what is here, Céline,' she said, 'you can go to my room and bring +me just the things you think I shall need.'"</p> + +<p>"Did she give you the key of the suite?" Mary asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"But no, Madame, she did not give me a key. I shall have to knock."</p> + +<p>"Very well, run and put a few things together," Mary directed. "It +doesn't much matter what, as Mademois—my daughter—will not, I think, +stay long in the suite. When you are ready, come back here to me. I will +go down with you. When the door is opened, I shall walk in before it can +be shut. But mind, you will speak or hint to <i>no</i> one of what I do, or +what I say to you—or what you may see or overhear."</p> + +<p>"Madame may depend upon me," Céline assured her. "Ah, that poor Milord +Severance! <i>Mais, c'est le Destin!</i>"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + +<h3>KEEPING UP APPEARANCES!</h3> + + +<p>"You said at the theatre, if I trusted you enough to come here with +you," Marise began as Céline left, "you would tell me a plan you thought +I'd approve. Well, I did trust you! I <i>had</i> to, just as I had to this +afternoon when you said the same thing in the taxi. Here I am. But so +far, I don't see anything that reassures me much. All the flowers and +jewel-cases and gold things are beautiful bribes. The only trouble about +them is, that <i>I</i> don't take bribes—even if you can afford to offer +them!"</p> + +<p>"I understand that emphasis," said Garth. "<i>You</i> don't take bribes. I +do. And you think, in making this collection I've 'gambled in futures.'"</p> + +<p>Marise was silent.</p> + +<p>"That's what you do think, isn't it?" he insisted.</p> + +<p>"Something of the sort may have flitted through my head."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I'm not above bribery and corruption—and the rest of +it—that's on my own conscience. In other words, it's my own business. +Your business is—to keep up appearances, and at the same time keep up +the proprieties."</p> + +<p>"That's one way of expressing it!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, again my beastly vulgar way! But I won't stop to apologise because +I know you're in a hurry to settle this question between us once for +all. Because, when it is settled, it <i>will</i> be once for all, so far as +I'm concerned."</p> + +<p>"I see. Go on, please!"</p> + +<p>He looked at her, a long look. "You and I are here alone together," he +said. "Husband and wife! For we <i>are</i> married, you know. Does that make +you shiver—or shudder?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think we <i>feel</i> very married—either of us," Marise answered in +a small, ingratiating voice, like a child's.</p> + +<p>"You don't know how I feel," said Garth. "But I'm not anxious to punish +you by torture for anything you've done, no matter what you may deserve, +so I won't keep you in suspense. You admit that if—we <i>did</i> 'feel +married,' and if—we cared about each other as ordinary new-married +couples do, this 'bridal suite'—as they call it—would be the proper +dodge?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," agreed Marise, wondering what he was working up to. Her heart +was beating too fast for her wits to be at their nimblest, but she +hadn't missed those words of his which had either slipped out, or been +spoken with subtle purpose: "If we cared about each other." Only a few +days ago—apparently with his soul in his eyes—he had said that he'd +give that soul to get her for his own. Well, the incredible had +happened, and she <i>was</i> his own—in a way. Was he so disgusted with her +behaviour and motives that he'd suddenly ceased to care? Or was he silly +enough to think it would hurt her if he pretended not to care? Certainly +she had done nothing worse than <i>he</i> had! Whatever he might think, she +had married him largely from pique, to spite Tony Severance; though, of +course, that wasn't to say she wouldn't carry out Tony's scheme when the +time came. Whereas he, John Garth, had accepted a bribe. She was worth a +million dollars to Tony: and the million dollars were worth a basely +caddish act to Garth.</p> + +<p>"You want your friends and the public in general to believe we are the +ordinary loving couple, don't you?" he was asking.</p> + +<p>"Of course. I may have earned them, but I don't <i>want</i> horrid things +said. Especially——"</p> + +<p>"Especially on Severance's account, and because of the arrangements he +proposes to make for your future, I suppose you were going to say. Why +stop?"</p> + +<p>"Because you suppose wrong. I wasn't going to say anything of the kind. +'Especially on account of poor Mums,' were the words on the tip of my +tongue. I stopped—well, I thought it sounded sentimental. Besides, +you'd probably not believe me."</p> + +<p>"I think I would believe you," said Garth. "I don't know you very well +yet, but things that have happened have shown me a bit of what you're +like, inside yourself. You've got plenty of faults. I should say you're +as selfish as they make 'em. You don't really take much interest in +anything that doesn't affect you and your affairs. You've been badly +spoiled, but not quite ruined: and I think you don't enjoy telling +lies."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for your charming compliments!" flashed Marise, the blood in +her cheeks. Spoiled indeed! Everyone said she was wonderfully +<i>un</i>spoiled—simple and sweet-natured as a child. Those were the people +who <i>knew</i> her!</p> + +<p>"To get back to a more important subject," went on Garth; "I was going +to tell you that, honestly, one half the reason I took this suite and +made you come to it with me, was for your sake: to have you do the +right, conventional, bridal thing everyone expects of you, and would be +blue with curiosity if you didn't do. The other half was to find out +whether you were capable of rising to an occasion."</p> + +<p>"Rising—how?" questioned Marise.</p> + +<p>"Rising high enough to trust a man to do—after his lights—the decent +thing. Not to carry out a bargain, because there is none. I'd be +breaking no promise if I grabbed you in my arms this moment. I mean, the +decent thing that any man owes any woman who puts herself in his power. +Now I've said enough. You'll understand me better in a minute by going +over this suite, than by listening to an hour's explanation in words. +I'll wait for you here." (They were in the salon.) "Walk round, and draw +your own conclusions. Then come back and tell me what the conclusions +are."</p> + +<p>Marise was quite sharp enough to guess what he meant, but—stepping out +into the azalea-filled entrance hall, she passed the open door of the +beautiful white bedroom. Beyond it was another door. She opened this, +and touching an electric switch, flooded a room with light.</p> + +<p>Here, too, was a bedroom, smaller, less elaborate, more suited to the +occupation of a man than the other. Instead of the carved white wood and +gilded cane of the room next door, the furniture was mahogany, of the +Queen Anne period; and the carpet, instead of pale Aubusson, was the +colour of wallflowers. There were some plain ebony brushes and toilet +things on the dressing-table, and underneath the table were boot-trees. +Evidently Garth had had his belongings brought over from the Belmore!</p> + +<p>A glance sufficed Marise. She went slowly back to the salon where Garth +stood staring down on the display of jewellery on the table.</p> + +<p>"Well?" He looked up with something defiant and oddly sullen about his +face. "You understand my 'plan'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Marise. "I understand. But——"</p> + +<p>"But what? Didn't you try the door between that other room and your own, +and satisfy yourself that it's locked with the key on your side?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't try it," the girl answered, "because—I was somehow sure it +would be like that."</p> + +<p>"Why were you sure?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, exactly. I was."</p> + +<p>"Your sureness was the result of trust in me, as a decent man in spite +of the fact that you think I'm not a gentleman?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es, I suppose it was trust."</p> + +<p>"Then why that 'but' just now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh—it's rather hard to put into words what was to come after the +'but'—without hurting your feelings. And I don't want to do that. It +only makes things a lot worse."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind having my feelings hurt. I'm hardened. Besides, if you +hurt mine I'm free to hurt yours if I like in return. Shoot!"</p> + +<p>"Well—I believe you mean what you've said to me—and shown me. I do +trust you—now. But for how long dare I? Can you trust yourself?"</p> + +<p>He smiled down at her; and it <i>looked</i> like a scornful smile, but of +course it couldn't be that. "Your question is easy to answer," he said. +"I trust myself, and shall continue to trust myself, because there's no +temptation to resist. I shall keep to my own half of this suite, with +the less difficulty because I haven't the slightest wish to intrude on +yours. Now you know where you stand. But there's a knock! I suppose +that's your maid."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + +<h3>A SHOCK AND A SNUB OR TWO</h3> + + +<p>It was the maid. It was also Mrs. Sorel, who pushed past Céline and +darted into the hall.</p> + +<p>"My darling!" she shrilled at sight of Marise. "You look as if you'd had +a most horrible shock!"</p> + +<p>It was just this that the girl had had: the shock of her life. She, +undesired—<i>not</i> a temptation! Alone with a man—a mere brute—who had +the strength and the legal right to take her against her will, but +remained cold; did not want her.</p> + +<p>She might have believed this statement to be a sequel to that hint about +"hurting her feelings if he liked," but Garth's face was cold. It might +have been carved from rock. It looked like rock—that red-brown kind. +There was no fierce, controlled passion in the tawny eyes, such as men +on the stage would carefully have betrayed in these situations, or such +as men had far from carefully betrayed to her in real life, disgusting +or frightening her at the time: though afterwards the scene had pleased, +or—well <i>flattered</i> her to dwell on in safe retrospect. It was rather +glorious, though sometimes painful, she'd often said to herself, the +power she had to make men <i>feel</i>. Yet this Snow-man didn't feel at all. +He simply <i>didn't</i>! You could see that by his icicle of a face.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't worry, dear Mums," soothed Marise. "I'm doing the best +thing for everyone: keeping up appearances! And as Major Garth dislikes +me—I am not his style, it seems—I'm perfectly safe. Safe as if I were +in our rooms, with you."</p> + +<p>Garth gazed gravely at Mrs. Sorel. "She's safer than with you, Madame. I +assure you she's as safe as—as if she were in cold storage."</p> + +<p>Mary gasped.</p> + +<p>Marise laughed.</p> + +<p>But she felt as though she'd read in a yellow newspaper that Miss Sorel +was the plainest girl and the worst actress in the world.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mums was persuaded to go, at last, after having upbraided her daughter, +with tears, for forcing them all—including Lord Severance—into such a +deplorable, such a perilous situation.</p> + +<p>As for the peril, after Garth's words, and still more his <i>look</i>, all +thrill of danger and the chance of a fight, with a triumphant if +exhausting close, had died. Marise felt dull and "anti-climaxy," and +homesick for her friends, the dear public who loved and appreciated her. +Céline remained to undress her mistress, having (despite Mrs. Sorel's +advice) brought various articles from Marise's own room. When at last +the bride was ready for bed in a dream of a "nighty" fetched by her +maid, Céline thought of the jewels on a table in the salon.</p> + +<p>By this time the room was empty, Garth having retired like a bear to his +den; and the Frenchwoman took it on herself to transfer the valuables to +the bedroom adjoining. "They will be safer here," she said. "Unless +Mademoiselle—Madame—would like me to carry the cases to the other +suite and put them in the care of Madame his mother."</p> + +<p>"No, leave everything here," directed Marise.</p> + +<p>She had made up her mind not to keep the gifts. They were beautiful, and +she wouldn't have been a woman if she'd not wanted them. But she wanted +still more the stern splendour of handing the spoil back to Garth, +advising him to return the jewels whence they came, since <i>only +millionaires</i> should buy such expensive objects. But she would not of +course take a servant, even Céline—who knew everything and a little +more than everything—into her confidence.</p> + +<p>She gave the Frenchwoman a key (which had been handed her by Garth) to +use in the morning, when the time came for early tea, a bath, and being +dressed. Then, when the maid had departed with a click of the outer +door, an idea sprang into the mind of Marise. At first she thought it +would not do. Then she thought it would. And the more she thought in +both directions, the more she was enmeshed by the idea itself.</p> + +<p>Only half an hour had elapsed since Garth went to his room. The man +wouldn't be human, after what they'd passed through, if he had gone to +bed. Marise was sure he had done no such thing: and she fancied that she +caught a faint whiff of tobacco stealing through the keyhole of that +stout locked door between their rooms.</p> + +<p>At last she could no longer resist the call of the blood—or whatever it +was. She switched on the light again, jumped up, and looked for a +dressing-gown. Bother! Céline hadn't brought one—had taken it for +granted she would use that wonderful thing which Garth's taste—or the +taste of some hidden guide of his—had provided.</p> + +<p>Well, what did it matter, anyhow? She would slip it on—and the +sparkling gold and silver <i>mules</i>, too. She glanced in the long Psyche +mirror. She <i>did</i> look divine! Even a rock-carved statue couldn't deny +that! Gathering up the jewels, she unlocked the door which led into the +hall, and tapped at the door of Garth's room, adjoining her own.</p> + +<p>"If you're not in bed," she called, "come out a minute, will you? I've +something important to say."</p> + +<p>All that was minx in Marise was revelling in the thought that presently +Garth would suffer a disappointment. He would imagine that she wished to +plead for grace from him. Then, before he could snub her, she'd give +<i>him</i> the snub of his life—just as he had given her, Marise Sorel, the +shock of hers!</p> + +<p>Garth did not answer at once. The girl was hesitating whether to call +him again, when his voice made her start. It sounded <i>sleepy</i>! "I <i>am</i> +in bed," he said. "What do you want? Is it too important to wait till +morning?"</p> + +<p>"It's merely that I wished to put the jewels which were left in the +salon into your charge," Marise replied with freezing dignity. "I do not +think they are safe there."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't they be safe enough with you?" came grumpily—yes, +grumpily!—through the closed door.</p> + +<p>"No doubt. But I don't wish to have the responsibility, as I don't care +to accept them...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see! Well, if that's your decision, it doesn't matter whether +they're safe or not. Leave the things in the corridor if your room's too +sacred for them. If that's all you want, I shall not get out of bed."</p> + +<p>What a man!</p> + +<p>"One would think you were a multi-millionaire!" Marise couldn't resist +that one last, sarcastic dig. "So I may be for all you know. Do what you +like with the silly old jewels."</p> + +<p>Marise threw the cases on the floor as loudly as she could. She knew +that the outer door was locked, and that Céline would be the first +person in, when morning came, so the act wasn't as reckless as it +seemed. But it was a relief to her nerves at the moment.</p> + +<p>The filmy dressing-gown, the sparkling <i>mules</i>, the hair down, the +general heartbreaking divineness, were <i>wasted</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + +<h3>THE DREAM</h3> + + +<p>Marise slept little, in what was left of that strange wedding night.</p> + +<p>She tried to think of Tony Severance, who must be suffering tortures +through his love and fears for her. But somehow he had lost importance. +He had become a figure in the background. Her thoughts would turn their +"spot light" upon the man in the adjoining room.</p> + +<p>Was he asleep? Was he awake? Was he thinking about her, and if so, what? +Why had he married her? If it was for love, as she had fancied at first, +could he have treated her as he had? That was hard to believe! Yet it +was harder to believe his motives wholly mercenary.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that's because I'm vain," the girl told herself. And she +remembered, her cheeks hot, how Garth had accused her of vanity and +selfishness. He'd said that she took no interest in anything which +didn't concern Marise Sorel. She had been angry then, and thought him +unjust and hard. But in her heart she knew that he had touched the +truth. She <i>was</i> vain and selfish. And she was hard, too, just as hard +to him as he to her.</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> has made me so!" she excused herself. "I was never hard to anyone +else before, in all my life."</p> + +<p>But she could not rest on this special pleading. What right had she to +be hard to this man? She had <i>asked</i> him to marry her. His crime was +that he had granted her wish and consented to play this dummy hand; and +now the deed was done he was not grovelling to her or to Tony Severance. +How much more <i>British</i> he seemed, by the by, than dark, Greek Tony, of +subtle ways!</p> + +<p>At luncheon, talking with Pobbles, he had spoken of Yorkshire as <i>his</i> +county. Marise wondered what he had meant. But, of course, she would not +ask. John Garth's past was no affair of hers. Still, she couldn't stop +puzzling about him. She puzzled nearly all night. He was turning out +such a different man from the man she had vaguely imagined! In fact, he +was different from any man she had ever met, off the stage or on.</p> + +<p>Staring into darkness as the hours passed, Marise felt that she could +not wait for Céline. She'd get up at dawn, dress, and flit to her own +room in Mums' suite. But no! She couldn't do that. She hadn't a key to +that suite. She would have to pound on the door, and other people beside +Mums and Céline would hear. There would be gossip—which she'd +sacrificed much already to avoid.</p> + +<p>Dreading the long night of wakefulness, the girl suddenly dropped fast +asleep, and began at once to dream of Garth. Zélie Marks was in the +dream, too, and—dreams are so ridiculous!—Marise was jealous. What had +happened between the two she didn't know; but she would have known in +another instant, for Zélie was going to confess, if a rap had not +sounded at the door and made her sit up in a fright. Marise was just +about to cry, "You can't come in!" when she realised that it was the +peculiar double knock of Céline.</p> + +<p>The Frenchwoman was prompt, though the night had seemed so long. Her +mistress sipped hot, fragrant Orange Pekoe from an eggshell cup, and in +a whisper bade Céline move quietly, not to rouse Monsieur Garth in the +next room.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mademoiselle—Madame!" said the maid.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur has gone out, early as it is. His door is wide open."</p> + +<p>Marise must have slept more soundly than she knew. She hadn't heard a +sound.</p> + +<p>It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Céline about the jewel-cases—if +they were lying in the corridor. But she couldn't put such a question! +The maid would be too curious—she would fancy there had been some +vulgar quarrel instead of—instead of—well, Marise hardly knew how to +qualify her own conduct.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I <i>was</i> vulgar," she thought, like a child repenting last +night's misdeeds. "It was horrid of me to throw those lovely things on +the floor. Poor fellow, he must have spent a fortune—<i>somebody's</i> +fortune (whose, I wonder?)—on those pearls, and diamonds and emeralds, +and all the rest. Yet I never said one word of gratitude. I was never +such a brute before!... I'm sure it <i>must</i> be his fault. Still—I don't +like myself one bit better than I like him."</p> + +<p>As Garth had gone out, there was no great need for haste. Céline had +brought all that was needed, and Marise might dress—as well as +repent—at leisure. But she was wild with impatience to know whether the +jewels were lying where she had thrown them. While Céline was letting +the bath-water run, the girl peeped out into the flower-scented +corridor. The jewel-cases had gone!</p> + +<p>This discovery gave her a slight shock. She had more than half expected +to see them on the floor, and had wondered what she would do if they +were there—whether she would pick them up and decide to accept the +gifts after all, with a stiff, yet decent little speech of gratitude. +"I'm sure you meant to do what I would like, and I don't wish to hurt +your feelings," or something of that sort.</p> + +<p><i>Now</i>, what should she do? The probability was that Garth himself had +retrieved his rejected treasures. But there was just a chance—such +horrors happened in hotels!—that a thief had pussy-footed into the +suite to search for wedding presents, and had found them easily in an +unexpected place. That would be <i>too</i> dreadful! Because, if +she—Marise—held her tongue, Garth would always believe that <i>she</i> had +annexed the things, and had chosen to be sulkily silent.</p> + +<p>"I shall have to bring up the subject somehow, the next time we +meet—whenever that may be!" she thought ruefully.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Garth arrived in the maternal suite, it was about the hour +when Miss Sorel had been in the habit of slipping, half-dressed, from +bedroom to salon. It was the time, also, when Miss Zélie Marks was +accustomed to present herself, and begin her morning tasks: sharpening +pencils, sorting letters, etc. But to-day the salon was unoccupied. The +letters lay in a fat, indiscriminate heap, just as Céline had received +them from one of the floor-waiters.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel was still in bed, and still suffering from last night's +headache, which had increased, rather than diminished. She burst into +tears at sight of Marise, but was slowly pacified on hearing the story +of the night.</p> + +<p>"He was afraid to——" she began; but the girl broke in with the +queerest sensation of anger. "He <i>wasn't</i> afraid—of <i>anything</i>! +Whatever else he may have been, he wasn't afraid. I don't believe the +creature knows how to be afraid."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel did not insist. She didn't wish to waste time discussing +Garth. She wanted to talk of Tony. There was a letter from him. It had +come by hand, early—sent as he was starting. Of course he hadn't dared +write to Marise direct, but there was an enclosure for her.</p> + +<p>"You had better read it now," advised Mums. "At any moment that man may +turn up, asking for you, and trying to make some scene."</p> + +<p>Marise took the crested envelope that had come inside her mother's note +from Tony; but somehow or other she felt an odd repulsion against it. +She didn't care to read what Tony had to say to Mrs. John Garth at +parting; and she had an excuse to procrastinate because, just then, the +telephone sounded in the salon adjoining.</p> + +<p>"Will you go, dearest? Or shall I ring for Céline?" Mums asked.</p> + +<p>Marise answered by walking into the salon and picking up the receiver. +Her heart was beating a little with the expectation of Garth's voice +from—somewhere. Their own suite, perhaps? But a woman was speaking.</p> + +<p>"Is it you, Mrs. Sorel?" was the question that came. And the heart-beats +were not calmed, for Marise recognised the contralto tones of Miss +Marks, the villainess of her dream.</p> + +<p>"No, it's I, <i>Miss</i> Sorel," she answered. "What's the matter? Aren't you +coming as usual?"</p> + +<p>"I am sorry, no, I can't come," replied the voice across the wire. "I +thought that now—you're married, <i>Mrs. Garth</i>, and going away before +long, I should no longer be required. But in any case I——"</p> + +<p>"If we hadn't required your services we should have told you, and given +you two weeks' salary in lieu of notice," snapped Marise professionally.</p> + +<p>"I hardly supposed you had time to think about me, everything was so +confused yesterday," Zélie excused herself. "Anyhow, Mrs. Garth, I must +give notice myself, for I've had news which will take me out of New York +at once. I've got to start by the next train. It doesn't matter about +money. I was paid up only a few days ago. We were just starting +fresh——"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure my mother will wish to pay, and insist upon doing so," said +Marise. "When does your train go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not certain to the minute," hedged Miss Marks. "But I have to pack. +I——"</p> + +<p>"That won't prevent your receiving an envelope with what we owe you in +it," persisted Marise. "I suppose you're 'phoning from your flat?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—no. Yes. But I'll be gone before a messenger could get here. +<i>Please</i> don't trouble."</p> + +<p>"Very well, give me your address at the town where you're going," Marise +said. "We can post you on a cheque."</p> + +<p>"I can't do that, I'm afraid," objected Miss Marks. "I shall be moving +about from place to place for awhile. It's really no <i>use</i>, Mrs. Garth, +thank you—though of course it's kind of you to care. Please say +good-bye to Mrs. Sorel for me. You've both been very good."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd sent us word last night," said Marise, whose eyes were +bright, and whose hand, holding the receiver, had begun to throb as if +she had a heart in her wrist.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know last night. The news I spoke of came this morning."</p> + +<p>"It must have come early!"</p> + +<p>"It did. Good-bye, Mrs. Garth."</p> + +<p>"Wait just a second. Are you going—West?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es. For awhile."</p> + +<p>"You can't tell me where?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, several places. Not far from my old home."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever mention where that was?"</p> + +<p>But no answer came. Either they had been cut off, or Zélie Marks had +impudently left the telephone.</p> + +<p>The dream came back to Marise—the dream where Garth and the +stenographer had been whispering together in a room where Marise could +not see them.</p> + +<p>"I believe he's with her now," the girl thought. "I believe when he went +out this morning he went straight to <i>her</i>. He's told her to do +something, and she intends to do it."</p> + +<p>To that question, "Are you going West?" Zélie had hesitatingly +responded, "Ye-es." What did it mean?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + +<h3>ACCORDING TO MUMS</h3> + + +<p>That same afternoon, Mary Sorel began a letter to Severance, a letter +embroidered with points of admiration, dashes, underlinings, and +parentheses.</p> + +<p>"Dear Tony," she wrote, for she felt the warm affection of an Egeria, +mingled with that of a mother-in-law elect, for him: and it pleased all +that was snobbish in her soul to have this intimate feeling for an earl.</p> + +<p>"Dear Tony, I shall be cabling you about the time you land, according to +promise. But I promised as well to write a sort of <i>diary</i> letter, +giving you all the developments day by day, and posting the document at +the end of the week. Well, this is the first instalment, written—as +you'll see by the date—on the day of your sailing.</p> + +<p>"How I wish I had better news to give you! But don't be alarmed. Things +are <i>not</i> going as we hoped, yet they might be worse. And now you are +prepared by that preface, I'll try to tell you exactly the state of +affairs!</p> + +<p>"At least, I shall be able to explain a mystery that puzzled and worried +us both yesterday, after the—I suppose in lieu of a better word I'm +bound to call it 'marriage'! Neither you nor I could understand +precisely how <i>That Man</i> had got my poor child so under his thumb, when +by rights <i>he</i> should have been under <i>her foot</i>!</p> + +<p>"What he does is this: he simply threatens at every turn to go away and +tell everyone, <i>including newspaper men</i>, the whole story from beginning +to end. You might think with an ordinary person that this was all +<i>bluff</i>. Because, if the story hurt you and Marise, and even <i>me</i>, it +would hurt him as much. But whatever he may be (and he might be almost +<i>anything</i>!) he is <i>not</i> an ordinary person. He appears perfectly +reckless of his own reputation. Apparently he cares not enough to lift +his finger, or let it fall, for the opinion of others, no matter <i>who</i>. +If he said he would do some dreadful thing it wouldn't be safe to hope +he was merely making an idle threat. He would <i>do</i> it, I'm sure he +would!</p> + +<p>"That's the secret of his power over our poor little Marise, and I must +admit, to a certain extent over <i>me</i>.</p> + +<p>"I have been having a long talk with him about the future—the +<i>immediate</i> future, I mean, of course, for the more distant future I +hope and believe will be controlled by <i>you</i>!</p> + +<p>"When I reproached the man for browbeating my daughter, he actually +retorted that we had no right to try and pin him to a certain line of +conduct, and not <i>pay</i> him for it! <i>Shameless!</i> But that sample will +show you what we are going <i>through</i>. I shall indeed rejoice for every +reason when you are restored to us. You have told me that your cousin +Œnone has what amounts to a million of American dollars, all her own, +and that her father intends giving you another million on your marriage +to her; so you will be in a position to complete your bargain with this +Fiend. In order to obtain the money, he will <i>have</i> to keep his part of +the agreement.</p> + +<p>"Yes, 'Fiend' is the word. Indeed, I used it aloud this afternoon in +addressing him, so utterly did he enrage me. He will not allow Marise to +go with me to Los Angeles and accept the loan of Bell Towers, which you +so kindly placed at our disposal till your return with your poor little +invalid, Œnone. He has a house of his own, out West, it +seems—Arizona or somewhere <i>wild</i>-sounding. I believe it's near the +Grand Canyon—wherever <i>that</i> is! And heaven alone knows what it's +like—the <i>house</i>, I mean, not the Canyon, which I am told is an immense +abyss miles deep, full of <i>blood</i>-red rocks or something terrific.</p> + +<p>"Garth insists that the unhappy child shall accompany him to this +desolate spot, which is more or less on the way to California. The +alternative he puts before her is of course the eternal (I nearly said, +'infernal'!) one, of deserting his bride with a blast of trumpets. +Neither you, nor Marise, nor I, can afford to let <i>this</i> happen! Almost +anything would be preferable at a crisis so delicate for you with your +uncle. Especially as Marise <i>vows</i> that, alone with her, the monster is +not so formidable. In fact, she says she can account for his conduct at +these times only by supposing that he does not like her, or is <i>in love +with someone else</i>.</p> + +<p>"I wonder, by the way, do you know at all if he has <i>any</i> money? My +impression, when he so easily accepted your somewhat original offer, was +that he had none. But he made Marise several handsome presents of +jewellery, which must have cost a great deal, <i>if</i> he paid cash! Perhaps +he used his V.C. to get them on <i>tick</i>—if such a thing is possible! +Marise refused, quite definitely, she tells me, to take these gifts from +him. To-day, she chanced to ask Garth how he had disposed of them after +her refusal. Though she put the question <i>most</i> tactfully, even +remarking that she was <i>sorry</i> for some little abruptness when returning +the jewel-cases (I don't know details!), the man <i>denied</i> her right to +ask what he had done. Marise persisted, however, in that sweet little +<i>determined</i> way she has, and Garth <i>at length</i> flung out in reply that +he had <i>given the things to another person</i>. Imagine it! Marise's +<i>wedding</i> presents!</p> + +<p>"Nothing more was to be got out of him, however. Instinct whispers to me +that the child suspects a certain young woman of having received the +jewels. (Why, such a thing is almost like being a <i>receiver of stolen +goods</i>, since surely they're the property of Marise. Not that she +<i>wants</i> or would look at them again!) She did not <i>tell</i> me this. It is +my own heart—the heart of a <i>mother</i>—which speaks. All she said was, +that Garth wouldn't mention the name of the receiver, and resented her +'catechising' him. He put the matter like this: If <i>she'd</i> given <i>him</i> +wedding presents, and he practically trampled them under foot, with +scorn, wouldn't she consider herself free to do what she liked with the +objects? Wouldn't she wish to get rid of them and never see them again? +Wouldn't her first thought be to give them away? And how would she feel +if <i>he</i> wanted to know what she'd done with the things?</p> + +<p>"To the three first questions, Marise found herself obliged to answer +'<i>Yes</i>.' (She has an almost <i>abnormal</i> sense of justice for a woman, you +know!) To the fourth, she replied in an equally self-sacrificing way, so +in the end the man triumphed. But it was this business of the wedding +presents which (as I've explained to you now) he deliberately <i>took +back</i> (we Americans call this being an 'Indian giver'!) that has made +Marise think he's in love with someone.</p> + +<p>"I may have guessed the person in her mind; but, as you will feel no +interest in <i>that</i> side of the subject, I'll not bore you by dwelling on +it at present. The interest for <i>you</i> in Garth's being in love with a +woman who is <i>not</i> our Marise (no matter who!) is <i>obvious</i>. If the +child is right in her conjectures, she is also right, no doubt, in +asserting that she need have no fear the man will lose his head.</p> + +<p>"In reading over what I have just written, I see that I may have given +you a wrong impression. It sounds as if I had resigned myself to see +Marise go off to live alone with Garth in his house by the abyss. Which +is not the case, of course. I shall be with her. That is, I shall be +most of the time—the best bargain I can drive! Except that, naturally, +Céline will <i>always</i> be with her. And if Garth is a Demon, Céline can be +a dragon. She has learned this art from <i>Me</i>. She is absolutely +faithful, and devoted to <i>your</i> interests. In order to make sure of her +services when needed in any possible emergency, I have more or less +confided in her, which I think was wise.</p> + +<p>"Now, before I write further, I will set your mind at rest as far as +<i>possible</i>.</p> + +<p>"Garth has used the power he holds to the uttermost, and no entreaties +on the part of author or manager have moved him. Marise is to give up +the part of Dolores in a fortnight, and Susanne Neville begins +rehearsing to-morrow! Poor Sheridan, poor Belloc! Poor <i>play</i>! Poor +<i>public</i>! My daughter is immediately after to start for the West +with her 'husband'—and maid! I wished to be of the party, but Garth +brutally inquired if 'that sort of thing was done in the smart +set'—mothers-in-law accompanying bridal pairs on their honeymoon? If I +wanted gossip, there would be a good way to get it, he said. He is +continually throwing gossip in our faces, whenever we propose anything +he doesn't like!</p> + +<p>"After a most exhausting (to <i>me</i>) argument, it was settled that I +should remain in New York for a few days after their departure, and that +I should then leave also, going straight on to Los Angeles. There I will +open beautiful Bell Towers, and see that all is ready for your advent, +with the invalid. Meanwhile Marise is to visit some sort of female named +Mooney, an adopted mother of Garth. She lives near a town called +Albuquerque, which if I don't forget is in New Mexico. You can perhaps +look it up on the map. Garth appears to have cause for gratitude to this +woman, who is an elderly widow. He has spent some years (I don't know +how many, and do not care!) in that State and the neighbouring one of +Arizona; and I gather from one or two words he let drop that he gave +Mrs. Mooney the house she now owns. In any case, he said he <i>must</i> pay +her a visit, not having seen her since the time when he joined the +British forces at the beginning of the war. And if <i>he</i> went, his wife +would have to go with him!</p> + +<p>"The man evidently expected that Marise would object; but in the +circumstances the idea seemed quite a <i>good</i> one! You see <i>why</i>, of +course, dear Tony? This old woman will be an extra chaperon for our +girl, whose wild impulsiveness has brought so much worry and trouble to +us all. Garth cannot make scenes before his foster-mother, for the very +shame of it!</p> + +<p>"After a short visit there, he will take Marise and Céline to his own +place: and you may be sure I shall not be long in joining my child, to +give her my protection!</p> + +<p>"Do, my dear son-to-be, hurry on your marriage. You must cable me the +moment you get this, when you are likely to arrive, addressing me here, +where I shall still be at that time. All our difficulties will end when +you are able to hand Garth the million dollars. (I <i>quite</i> understand it +would be imprudent to send a cheque or a letter to him. Who knows what +desperate thing he might do when he had got the money?) The one safe +thing will be a <i>conversation</i>, and the money in bonds. Then, as you +suggested, you can dictate a document for Garth to sign, compromising to +<i>him</i> but not to you. You can also dictate terms—as you would have done +from the first, if Marise had not tried to punish you—by punishing +<i>herself</i>! But oh, let it be soon—soon! The strain is telling upon my +nerves—and no doubt the nerves of Marise, though she is singularly +reserved with me, I regret to say—one would almost think <i>sulky</i>, poor +child!</p> + +<p>"I can't express the pain it gives me to upset you with all these +anxieties. But I dared not keep silence, lest you should learn of this +journey West, and so on, through some garbled story in the newspapers. +You might then think the <i>worst</i>; whereas now, you are in the secret of +your dear girl's <i>safety</i>. No harm will come to her: and thank goodness +there will be no tittle-tattle to rouse Mr. Ionides's suspicions!</p> + +<p>"I presume you will marry your cousin by special licence, so as to hurry +things on; and I comfort myself by thinking that before many days all +will be <i>en train</i>. Perhaps in a fortnight after you reach England you +will be arranging to leave again for the benefit of the invalid's +health. California is the most wonderful place in the world for a cure. +But, of course, the poor Œnone is incurable, and is not likely to be +with you on this earth for more than a year or two at worst—I mean, at +most.</p> + +<p>"When you have settled with Garth, he will have no further excuse to +assert himself. I shall find a house near Bell Towers, and Marise will +come to me. The time of waiting for happiness will pass in the +consolation of warm platonic friendship and lovely surroundings. An +excuse can be found for Marise's divorce; and Garth will pass out of our +lives for ever!</p> + +<p>"Now I have explained everything as well as I can, and I shall add items +of interest each day until time comes for posting my letter. <i>Au +revoir</i>, dear Tony! Yours, M. S.—the initials you love!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + +<h3>"SOME DAY—SOME WAY—SOMEHOW!"</h3> + + +<p>If Zélie Marks had been a malicious girl she could, with a few words +through the telephone or on paper, have spoiled at a stroke such few +chances of happiness as remained to Garth.</p> + +<p>The man was completely, almost ludicrously in her power; and Zélie +didn't flatter herself that what he had done was done entirely because +of trust in her. He <i>did</i> trust her, of course. But as the girl set +forth to carry out his wishes, she realised that he had turned to her as +much through a man's blindness as through perfect faith in her unfailing +friendship.</p> + +<p>Friendship! She laughed a little at the word, travelling westward in the +luxurious stateroom for which Garth had paid. What a dear fool he was! +But all men were like that. When they fell head over heels in love with +one woman, they never bothered to analyse the feelings of any other +female thing on earth!</p> + +<p>Yes, that was about all she was in his eyes—a female thing! He had been +in desperate need of help, and she happened to be the one creature who +could give the kind he wanted.</p> + +<p>Some girls would have refused, she thought. Others would have accepted, +and then—behaved like cats. Even she had longed to behave like a cat +when she talked to his "wife" through the telephone. "If Marise Sorel +dreamed of what he's asked me to do, not one of the things he hopes for +could ever by any possibility come to pass," Zélie reminded herself, as +she gazed without seeing it at the flying landscape. "Not that they ever +will come to pass anyhow. But it shan't be <i>my</i> fault that he's +disappointed."</p> + +<p>Miss Marks honestly believed that she was unselfish in her service; yet +something far down in the depths of her prayed to gain a reward for it +in the far, far future.</p> + +<p>The one thing which seemed certain about this wild marriage was, that it +wouldn't last. Sooner or later—probably sooner!—there'd be a divorce. +Then, maybe, Jack Garth would remember what his pal Zélie Marks had done +for him. He'd turn to her for comfort as now he turned for help. +Love—real love—was sometimes born in such ways: and Zélie didn't for +an instant let herself think that Garth's love for Marise Sorel was +<i>real</i>. It was infatuation, and was bound to pass when he found out what +a vain, self-centred girl his idol was; whereas Zélie Marks had been +loyally his chum for years.</p> + +<p>Zélie had loved Garth long before the war, when she knew him in +Albuquerque. She was learning stenography then, after her father died, +and when there was no one for her to live with except an aunt. The aunt +was quite a good aunt, and a friend of Mrs. Mooney—Jack's "Mothereen"; +but Zélie had wanted to be independent. Jack and Mothereen had been kind +to the girl; and when Jack began building a house near his beloved Grand +Canyon, for a little while Zélie had tremblingly prayed that it was +meant for her to live in. Later, she had begun to lose hope, but not +wholly. And then the war had broken out in Europe. Almost at once Garth +had dashed over to England and offered his services, on the plea that +his father, a Yorkshire man, had never been naturalised as an American.</p> + +<p>Zélie couldn't rest in Albuquerque after that. She went east, and would +quietly have slipped away after Garth to Europe as a Red Cross nurse if +she hadn't been afraid he would suspect why she followed. Instead, she +stopped in New York, and got work as a stenographer with a firm of +engineers, thanks to an introduction from Jack. When America flung +herself into the war-furnace too, Zélie Marks did train as a nurse: but +in little more than a year came the Armistice, and the girl reluctantly +took up her old profession again.</p> + +<p>Now, she loved Major Garth, V.C., a hundred times more than she had +loved Jack Garth, the smart young inventor. Yet here she was on the way +to Arizona, where she had promised to go and get his house (that house +she had once thought might be hers!) ready to receive another woman!</p> + +<p>When he had come to her flat early in the morning and told her what he +wanted done to "surprise Marise," she had made him some hot coffee, and +agreed to everything.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Jack," she said, "I'll do it, and your wife shall never know, +unless you tell her yourself. And I advise you not to do that, because +if you drop the least hint, she'll hate the house and me, and be angry +with you. Any girl <i>would</i>! I'm not blaming her. She shall think that +your house was just waiting, in apple-pie order, her room and all: or +else—yes, <i>that</i> would be best!—she shall think Mothereen did the +whole business. Of course, that's what you'd want Mothereen to do, and +what she'd want to do, if she were strong enough for the task. But as it +is, she shall work just enough, so that she won't have to <i>fib</i>—no hard +work to tire her out. She'll love to go to the Canyon with me—the dear +Mothereen!—and she'll have the time of her life."</p> + +<p>So that was Zélie Marks' secret errand. She was to travel straight +through to Kansas City, by the Santa Fé "Limited." There she was to +pause in her journey and purchase a list of things which had never been +supplied for Garth's new house, finished only a short time before the +war: beautiful silver, crystal and fine linen, and the decorations for a +room worthy of a bride like Marise. Kansas City was a big enough town to +provide these things, Garth thought; and as it was many hours nearer the +Grand Canyon than was Chicago, Zélie's purchases would reach their +destination sooner than if she shopped there.</p> + +<p>Garth had to leave much to Zélie's taste, but his advice, "Try to think +what <i>she</i> would like," had hurt. Zélie was to have all the trouble and +pain, yet must strive to please Marise Sorel, not herself. And poor old +Zélie was never to get any credit for the sacrifice!</p> + +<p>Of course, she <i>had</i> got something. She had got Jack's thanks in +advance. He had said, "You're a brick, Zélie! The finest girl there is. +I shall never forget what you're doing for me." And she had got the most +marvellous jewels she'd ever seen except at the opera or at Tiffany's. +But she didn't count them as possessions. She knew they had been refused +by Marise (Jack put it casually, "Stuff didn't make a hit there. I hope +it will with you!"), and Zélie had no intention of keeping Mrs. Garth's +cast-off finery. Just what she would eventually do with what Jack called +the "stuff," she hadn't made up her mind: but the girl felt confident of +an inspiration.</p> + +<p>She had also got money for the trip West, and back, with travel <i>de +luxe</i>. She didn't mind accepting that, as she was doing an immense +favour for Jack, which nobody else could or would do. And she didn't +mind his paying an "understudy" to look after her work at the Belmore +till she should return. But she had refused nearly half the money which +Jack had pressed upon her. She simply "wouldn't have it!" she'd +insisted. He had been forced to yield, or vex her: but he had probably +said within himself, "Anyhow, she's got the jewels!"</p> + +<p>How little he knew her, if he could think that!... And so, after all, +the thanks were the biggest part of her reward.</p> + +<p>Tears smarted under Zélie's eyelids now and then, as she thought of +these things while the train whirled her westward: how loyal she was to +her pal, and was going to be in spite of every temptation; how little +Marise deserved the worship lavished upon her; and how much more good it +would do Jack to give his love in another quarter!</p> + +<p>"All the same, I'll do my very, very best," the girl repeated. "I won't +tell Mothereen a single <i>one</i> of the horrid things I think about the +bride. I'll paint her in glowing colours. I'll try and make the house a +dream of beauty, no matter how hard I work. I'll warn Mothereen not to +mention my name, though I'd <i>love</i> to have her blurt it out! But some +day—and some way—I'll somehow get even with Marise Sorel for all she's +made me suffer. And made <i>Jack</i> suffer!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + +<h3>THE END OF THE JOURNEY</h3> + + +<p>Marise knew as little as possible of her own country. Her early memories +wavered between New York when things went well, and Brooklyn or even +Jersey City when the family luck was out. Her first experiences on the +stage had given her small parts in New York. Mums had refused fairly +good chances for the pretty girl, rather than let her go "on the road." +Then had come the great and bewildering success as "Dolores," which had +kept the young star playing at one theatre until mother and daughter +transplanted themselves to England. This "wedding trip" with Garth was +the first long journey that Marise had ever made in her native land.</p> + +<p>It was the most extraordinary thing which had ever happened, to be +travelling with Garth—except being married to him! And, after the first +twenty-four hours of "Mrs. John Garthhood," she had not felt "married" +at all, during the fortnight which followed the wedding.</p> + +<p>For one thing, she had been desperately busy preparing to leave the +stage "for good." There were so many people to see! And the person of +whom she had seen least was her husband. He, too, appeared to be busy +about his own affairs, and Marise was rather surprised to discover how +many men (his acquaintances were nearly all men, and men of importance) +he knew in New York.</p> + +<p>Every night he took her to the theatre, and returned to escort her home +in the car he had so extravagantly hired. That was in the <i>rôle</i> of +adoring bridegroom which he had engaged himself to play! But apart from +luncheons and dinners eaten with wife and mother-in-law on show in +public places, these were the only occasions when they met and talked +together. At night, though Marise still stuck to the bargain and +occupied her room in the "bridal suite," she never knew when Garth +entered his quarters next door, or when he went out. But now, here they +were in a train, destined to be close companions for days on end.</p> + +<p>The girl's restless fear of the unknown in Garth's nature, which had +almost gone to sleep in New York, waked up again. Yet somehow it wasn't +as disagreeable as it ought to have been—and indeed, she had rather +missed it! There was a stifled excitement in going away with him which +interested her intensely; and she was interested in the journey itself.</p> + +<p>Garth had made everything very easy and comfortable for his wife, so far +as outward arrangements went. She had a stateroom (it happened by chance +to be the same in which Miss Marks had travelled a fortnight ago, but +Zélie's vows of "getting even" did not haunt the place), and close by, +Céline had a whole "section" to herself. Garth lurked in the distance, +just where, Marise didn't know. He must, of course, take his bride to +meals, and sit chatting with her for some hours each day in her +stateroom, lest people who knew their faces should wonder and whisper +about the strange honeymoon couple. But so far as Marise could tell, he +seemed inclined to keep his word with her.</p> + +<p>What would Mums—who had sobbed at parting—think if she knew that her +martyred Marise was quite happy and chirpy? Yet so it was! The girl was +keenly conscious of Garth's presence, but she couldn't help being as +pleased as a child with the neat arrangement of her stateroom; with the +coffee-coloured porter whose grin glittered like a diamond tiara set in +the wrong place; with the cream-tinted maid who brought a large paper +bag for her toque, and said, "My! ain't your hat just <i>sweet</i>?" and with +the wee wooden houses they passed so close she could almost have +snatched flower-pots from their window-sills, as "Alice" snatched +marmalade, falling down to Wonderland through the Rabbit Hole. That was +just at the start, for soon the train was flashing through fair green +country with little rivers, and trees like English trees.</p> + +<p>Marise laughed aloud at the huge advertisements which disfigured the +landscape; unpleasant-looking, giant men cut out of wood; Brobdingnag +boys munching cakes; profile cows the size of elephants, and bottles +tall as steeples. Then suddenly she checked herself. It was the first +time she had laughed with Garth! He, too, was smiling. Their eyes met. +The man seemed very human for that moment; young, too, and in spite of +his bigness, boyish. What would she have thought of him, she wondered, +if they had met in an ordinary way?</p> + +<p>The train stopped at very few places. Indeed, when in motion it had an +air of stopping at nothing! It was fun going to the restaurant car. Men +stared at Marise, and she saw that some of the women stared at Garth. +Did they admire him? Would <i>she</i> have admired him if she'd seen him for +the first time as well-dressed as he was now, wearing a smart Guards' +tie, and if she had never learned to think of him as a Devil and a +Brute?</p> + +<p>Certainly his hair was nice. It grew well on his forehead, and brushed +straight back it would have had the effect of a bronze helmet if there +hadn't been a slight ripple to break the smoothness.</p> + +<p>"Monsieur Garth has received a telegram in the train," said Céline that +night as she helped "Madame" to undress. "He has no stateroom himself. I +suppose he could not get one. He is in a 'section,' no better than mine. +He is sitting there now reading the telegram. I think he has read it +several times. Perhaps it is from Madame his mother, whom we go to +visit."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," echoed Marise. But somehow she felt sure it wasn't. It wasn't +about business, either! Strange that you could get telegrams in trains. +He must have told the person to wire; and the person was a woman—Zélie +Marks, most likely. All Marise's resentment against Garth came back, as +her mother would have wished for Severance's sake.</p> + +<p>At Chicago, where they arrived next morning, they had to stop all day +until the Santa Fé Limited left at night. Garth took his wife to "see +the sights." He was quite agreeable, in an impersonal way, and so was +she; but they did not laugh together again. They talked only of the +moment, never planned ahead; yet Marise's thoughts kept flying on to the +end of the journey, and what life would be like then.</p> + +<p>The morning after brought them to Kansas City, where Zélie, bound on her +secret mission, had got off to buy beautiful things for the far-away +house. But Major and Mrs. John Garth did not get off. They went on and +on, till the flat country of waving grass turned to red desert dotted +darkly with pines, and having here and there a mysterious mound like an +ancient tumulus. Instead of homely villages there were groups of adobe +houses, such as Marise vaguely pictured in Africa. Out of the hard +scarlet earth pushed grey rocks like jagged teeth of giant, buried +skulls; and at last it seemed that the train was rushing straight to the +setting sun where it would be engulfed in fire.</p> + +<p>Now and then when the girl glanced at Garth, who was absorbed in the +wistful ecstasy of homecoming, it occurred to her that he had changed. +His eyes were more tawny than ever they had been. Perhaps it was the red +reflection shining up into them! Now she understood better than before +why they had looked like the eyes of a lion that sees his lost and +distant desert. This was Garth's desert—<i>his</i>, and he loved it! A queer +little thrill of involuntary sympathy ran through her. She felt that it +might be in her also to love this wild rose-red and golden land, with +its dark, stunted trees, and the draped Indian figures silhouetted on +slim ponies against a crystal sky. It appealed to something in her soul +that had never yet found what it wanted. It made her feel that she was +very little in her outlook, her aspirations, but that she might some day +grow to a stature worth while.</p> + +<p>It was morning—late morning—when they reached Albuquerque, once +settled and named by Spanish explorers. As the train drew into the +station Marise glanced out with veiled eagerness. Yes, she <i>was</i> eager, +but she didn't want Garth to know that. It would please him too +much—more than it was safe to please him, maybe!</p> + +<p>There was a surprisingly delightful hotel built in old Spanish style, +which seemed to be part of the station itself: and on the platform were +knots of Indians so picturesque that the girl nearly cried out in sheer +pleasure.</p> + +<p>Garth had come into the stateroom to help gather up her things. She had +been wondering for some moments at the strained frown between his +eyebrows when he should have been smiling with joy. Suddenly he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Marise" (he always called her Marise, and she had ceased to resent it), +"there's something I want to ask you to do. I kept putting it off, but +now the last minute has come. You know I think a lot of Mrs. Mooney, my +adopted mother, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"You've told me so. And it goes without saying, as you had an <i>idée +fixe</i> that you must make her this visit at any cost," Marise replied.</p> + +<p>"At any cost—that's just it," he repeated. "Well, she's as +old-fashioned as you're new-fashioned. She couldn't understand a motive +for marriage except love—she'd hardly believe there was any other! I +don't want to shock or worry her if I can avoid it. Will you please help +me out in keeping her as happy about—us, as you reasonably can?"</p> + +<p>"Of course I don't want to hurt her," said Marise. "I hate hurting +people—as a general rule, though you mayn't believe it. What do you +want me to do—something special?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Could you bring yourself to call me 'Jack' before her? She'd +notice if you always called me 'You,' as you do—as you have since I +pointed out that 'Major Garth' didn't fit the situation."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. That's easy enough!" Marise reassured him. "I'm not an +actress for nothing. Many a man whom I wouldn't dream of calling by his +Christian name off the stage has had to be 'dearest' and 'darling' +<i>on</i>!"</p> + +<p>Garth flushed darkly, she could not quite guess why. "Thank you," he +said. "We'll consider ourselves in the theatre, then, when we're at +Mothereen's, playing—don't you say?—'opposite' parts. I'll try and +make yours not too hard. I don't know whether she'll have come to the +depot to meet us or not, but—hurrah, <i>there</i> she is!"</p> + +<p>His voice rang out as Marise had never yet heard it ring. Yes, she had +once—just for an instant—that first Sunday when he said, "I would sell +my soul for you!"—or some foolish words of the kind.</p> + +<p>Since then, she had forgotten those tones, and thought his voice hard; +but now its warmth and mellowness brought back a memory.</p> + +<p>The train was stopping. In front of a wonderful window full of Indian +curios stood a little woman looking up and waving a handkerchief. She +was dressed in black, with the oldest-fashioned sort of widow's bonnet. +And if you'd seen her on top of the North Pole, you would have known she +was Irish.</p> + +<p>Garth flung a window up, and shouted, "Mothereen!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + +<h3>SECOND FIDDLE</h3> + + +<p>The next thing that Marise knew, she was on the platform, being hugged +and kissed by the little woman in black, admired by a pair of big, +wide-apart blue eyes under black hair turning grey, smiled at by a kind, +sweet mouth whose short upper lip showed teeth white as a girl's.</p> + +<p>Not even Mums had ever hugged or kissed Marise like that! There had +always been just a perceptible holding at a distance lest hair or laces +should be rumpled. But there was no dread of rumpling here! Marise knew +that Mrs. Mooney wouldn't have cared if her hair had come down or her +funny old bonnet had been squashed flat. There was something oddly +delicious, almost pathetic—oh, but <i>very</i> pathetic as things really +were between her and Garth!—in being taken to that full, motherly bosom +where the heart within beat like the wings of a glad bird. +Suddenly—perhaps because she was tired and a little nervous after her +immense journey—Marise wanted to cry in the nice woman's neck, which +smelt good, like some sort of warm, fresh fruit. But she didn't cry. She +smiled, and behaved herself well, as Mrs. Mooney turned her affectionate +attentions to "Johnny."</p> + +<p>"Sure, boy," she said, when Garth had come in for a full share of +caresses, "your bride's beautiful. You didn't tell me <i>half</i>, and +neither did——"</p> + +<p>But Mothereen broke off short, and squeezed the gloved hands of Marise, +shaking them up and down to cover an instant's confusion. She had been +solemnly warned by Zélie that the name of Marks was taboo, and now she +had nearly let it out!</p> + +<p>"There's an automobile waiting," she hurried on. "Not that I've got one, +or the likes of one, meself, but ye're from N'York, me dear, and I felt +it would be the right thing to have."</p> + +<p>"So it is, Mothereen," said Garth. "Now I'll just get the 'shuvver' to +help me with our bags and things——"</p> + +<p>"Not yet, boy, please," she begged excitedly. "There's a lot of folks +waitin' for the good word with ye, the minute we've had our meetin' +over. I couldn't keep 'em from comin', Johnny, honest I couldn't, try as +I might. I believe if we had a carriage instead of an auto to drive home +in, they'd take out the horses and draw ye along themselves, singin' +'Hail the Conquerin' Hero'!"</p> + +<p>As if her words were a signal, a crowd of men and women, mostly young, +burst out from the hotel, or from the Indian museum with its window +display of brilliant rugs, totems, turquoises, black opals, and chased +silver. "Hurrah for our Jack! Hurrah for our V.C.!" they yelled.</p> + +<p>Marise was taken aback and hardly knew what to do. It was so odd to hear +roars of applause which were not for <i>her</i>!</p> + +<p>It wasn't that she wanted the roars, or envied the embarrassed recipient +of the unexpected honours; but it <i>was</i> strange to stand there—she, the +famous and beautiful Marise Sorel—with no one looking at or thinking +anything about her at all.</p> + +<p>Garth <i>was</i> a V.C., of course, and worthy of praise for brave deeds he +must have done (she'd never heard what they were, or thought very much +about them!), yet it did seem funny, just for the first surprised +moment, that these creatures should be so wild over him without caring +an atom for her!</p> + +<p>"Oh, darlint, and ain't we two women proud of him!" gasped Mothereen, +squeezing the girl's arm convulsively.</p> + +<p>Marise glanced down at the plump, black-clad form quivering with emotion +at the sight of Garth being shaken hands with and pounded on the back. +"Yes, we are," she echoed kindly, for she would not have pained the dear +woman for anything on earth.</p> + +<p>"I shall have my work cut out for me, while I'm in her house, if she +expects me to be chorus for her adopted son," the transported favourite +told herself. "But she is a darling, and I'll do my best for the few +days I'm here, at—well, at <i>almost</i> any price."</p> + +<p>When Garth's old friends had thrown themselves upon him like a tidal +wave, the reflex action came, and they were willing to meet and be nice +to his wife. Male and female, they saw that she was tremendously pretty +and smart. Many knew who she was, and had heard of her success, even +though they had never seen her on the stage. But what was a star of the +theatre, compared with a hero of the war? Garth was It. Marise was only +It's second fiddle.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he great?—fine?—wonderful?" were the adjectives flung at her +head by gushing girls. "I suppose he lets you wear his V.C.?" a man +pleasantly condescended. Everyone was sure, as Mothereen had been sure, +that she must be "very proud" of the splendid husband she'd been lucky +enough to catch.</p> + +<p>Marise smiled as she pictured what Mums' expression would have been +among these adorers of the Fiend, the Brute, beings from another world, +for whom the celebrated Miss Sorel was nobody. Really, the scene on this +platform was like a village green in a comic opera, with all the minor +characters dancing round the tenor!</p> + +<p>At last Garth—happy yet ill at ease and half ashamed—contrived to +rescue his mother and wife. They got to the motor-car waiting outside +the station; but there they collided with a new procession, belated yet +enthusiastic. It was, "Garth forever!" again: more shouts of joy, more +slaps, more introductions to the harmless, necessary bride.</p> + +<p>Even when the three had ambushed themselves in the car, boys hung on +behind, singing, "For he's a jolly good fellow!" and girls threw flowers +in at the windows.</p> + +<p>"This is the happiest hour of my life since I first met up with ye, +Johnny dear," choked Mothereen, wiping her smiling eyes. "And I'm sure +it's the same for you, isn't it, my child?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes—ye-es!" responded Marise.</p> + +<p>Garth laughed.</p> + +<p>The town of Albuquerque was very Spanish-looking. Indeed, it would have +been strange if it were not so, since the Spanish had built much of it +in the Great Days of their prime, hundreds of years ago. It was on the +outskirts of the place that Mrs. Mooney lived, in a house—as she +explained to Marise—"architected for her by Johnny himself."</p> + +<p>"He and I lived here together after he brought me back to me +dearly-loved west, from N'York," she went on; "as happy as turtle-doves +till the war broke on us. That house at the Canyon where he's takin' +you—the later the better, because I want to keep ye here as long as I +can!—was never for <i>me</i>. He thought he'd like to go and brood over his +work in it, all alone, once or twice a year. He felt as if that Grand +Canyon would be a kind of inspiration. I doubt if it ever popped into +his head in those times that he'd be takin' a pretty young wife like a +princess from a fairy tale there some day. Not that aught except a +fairy-tale princess would be good enough for him."</p> + +<p>Marise did not answer. What was there to say? But they had arrived at +Mothereen's house.</p> + +<p>It, too, was Spanish, in a modern, miniature way, and Mothereen +explained it to Marise. "Johnny wanted to build me something bigger and +more statuesque like," she said. "But I wouldn't let him. I love a +little house. I'm at <i>home</i> in it. I have no grand ways. I hope it's the +same with you, me dear! Though for sure it will be, on yer honeymoon, +with the best boy in the wurruld, just back safe from the terrible war! +Zé—I mean <i>he</i>—did speak of a 'suite' to put the two of ye up in, but +I warrant ye won't be the one to say yer quarters are too small!... Come +in, will ye? And welcome ye both are as the sunshine after rain!"</p> + +<p>Marise obeyed the arm round her waist, but a presentiment of trouble was +upon the girl. She foresaw a dilemma. And it had two long horns. She was +between them!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + +<h3>MOTHEREEN</h3> + + +<p>Mothereen led them over the house, which was built in bungalow style, +all on one floor, saying to Garth, "Do you remember this? Do you +remember that?" and pointing out to Marise details upon which she could +hang some anecdote of "Johnny."</p> + +<p>"But I've saved the best for the last," she announced. "Now I'm going to +take ye to your '<i>suite</i>,' as Zé—as it's fashionable to call it. Ye +know, Johnny, the spare bedroom with the bath openin' out? Well, I've +added onto it the little sewin'-room, done up the best I could in a +hurry. And if that doesn't make a 'suite,' what <i>does</i>? There's no door +from one room into the other, that's the trouble! I'd a' had one cut if +there'd been time, but there wasn't. Still, it's the next room, and the +two of ye will have the whole use of it, so I hope the dear gurrl will +excuse the deficiencies."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure there won't be any deficiencies!" exclaimed Marise graciously. +Garth was right to love his "Mothereen"! She was certainly an adorable +woman, and too delicious when she rolled out a long word. The girl was +pleased to hear that there was no door between her room and Garth's. Not +that he was likely to annoy her. But—who could tell if he would not be +different here in his own home, where everyone made a hero of him, from +what he had seemed in <i>her</i> New York? It was just as well that she was +to be on the safe side.</p> + +<p>"What a pretty room!" she cried out, as, with a proud housewifely look, +Mothereen flung open a door. "Why, it's lovely! Is this mine?"</p> + +<p>"Of course it's yours, darlin'—yours and Johnny's," said Mothereen, +beaming with pleasure at such praise. "Come and look out of the window, +ducky. John knows what's there, but 'twill be a surprise for you."</p> + +<p>Still clasped by the plump arm, Marise crossed the polished floor, which +was spread with beautiful Indian rugs. The walls were white, and hung +with a few good pictures of desert scenery and strange Indian mesas. The +furniture was simple, but interesting: made of eucalyptus wood, pink as +faded rose-leaves against its white background; and everywhere were +bowls of curious Egyptian-looking Indian pottery, filled with roses. The +one immense window took up nearly all one end of the room, and opened +Spanish fashion upon a garden-court with a fountain, a marble bench, and +a number of small orange trees grouped together to shade the seat.</p> + +<p>"'Twas Johnny's idea," Mothereen explained, when Marise had complimented +the court. "The next room looks on it, too. And now ye'd both better +come and see what I've done with that same!"</p> + +<p>She led the way out again, and opened the door of an adjoining room. "I +do hope ye'll like it too!" she said. "It's yer own little sittin'-room, +and you two turtle-doves can have yer breakfast here by yerselves if ye +like."</p> + +<p>With all her goodwill towards "Mothereen," Marise could not repress a +slight gasp, or a stiffening of the supple young figure belted by the +kind woman's arm; for her first glimpse of the room gave her an electric +shock. The room <i>was</i> a "sittin'-room," and nothing else.</p> + +<p>"Is anything wrong, darlin'?" anxiously asked Mothereen.</p> + +<p>Marise hesitated. Involuntarily she glanced over her shoulder at Garth, +who was close behind. She met his eyes, which implored hers.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, indeed!" the girl protested. "It's—it's charming. I was +thinking of something else for an instant."</p> + +<p>"Ye're <i>sure</i> everything's all right?" Mothereen persisted, her pretty +brows puckered.</p> + +<p>"Quite sure. Thank you <i>so</i> much!"</p> + +<p>"Nothing ye'd like to have me change?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," Marise consoled her, in a strained tone.</p> + +<p>"Well then, I'm glad, and I'll leave ye to yerselves for a while. Come +out to me when ye feel like it and not before—one or both. And ye'll be +welcome as the flowers in May."</p> + +<p>She kissed Marise and snuggled her cheek, rosy and fresh as an apple, +against the arm of her adopted son. Then she was gone with a parting +smile, and Garth shut the door.</p> + +<p>"That was mighty fine behaviour of yours, and I thank you with all my +heart," he said to Marise.</p> + +<p>She had dropped into a chair, tremulous about the knees. "You needn't +thank me," she answered. "What I did was for <i>her</i>."</p> + +<p>"I know. That's why I thank you," said Garth. "I think a lot more about +Mothereen's feelings than I do my own. Mine are case-hardened—hers +aren't, and never could be. You see, she's fond of me."</p> + +<p>"I do see! So is everybody else—here, it seems."</p> + +<p>"They're warm-hearted folks out in the West. They love to make a noise. +I hope you weren't disgusted."</p> + +<p>"No, I liked them," said Marise. "They seemed so sincere. And Mrs. +Mooney is the dearest little woman. I'd have my tongue cut +out—almost!—rather than she should be sad. But now the question is, +what's to be done? I tried to help you. You must help me."</p> + +<p>"I will," Garth assured her. "It's going to be all right."</p> + +<p>"But how—without hurting her?" Marise looked round the room. "You can't +sleep on that little sofa."</p> + +<p>"I can sleep on the floor rolled up in a blanket. That would have seemed +a soft billet in France."</p> + +<p>"You'd be wretchedly uncomfortable. And how would you bathe?"</p> + +<p>"I guess you don't need to worry yourself about that detail. I'll manage +the business in one way or other."</p> + +<p>"That sounds vague! What's become of the room which used to be yours in +this house, before you went to the war?"</p> + +<p>"Your bedroom next door is the one. The only spare room we had in those +days was this, where we're sitting now. We never had any people come to +stay, though, so Mothereen turned it into a sewing-room."</p> + +<p>"I see! And you can't slip out to an hotel or anywhere, because every +human being in town knows you."</p> + +<p>"No, I can't slip out. But—well, we <i>are</i> married!"</p> + +<p>Marise started, and stared. Her eyes opened wide. She looked ready to +spring up and run away.</p> + +<p>"All I was going to say is this," Garth went on. "There's a big screen +or two in your room, I noticed. Perhaps, as you're kind enough not to +want me to go unwashed, you'd stretch a point, and let me walk through +to the bath with a couple of screens in position. We needn't stay more +than two days and nights, the way things have turned out. Mothereen will +be disappointed, but her feelings won't be hurt because I shall take +steps to get a wire from a friend of mine at the Grand Canyon. The +friend will tell me that I'm needed at once on a matter of importance. +That'll do the trick. And Mothereen can make up for lost time by +visiting me—us, at Vision House."</p> + +<p>"Vision House!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I named it that. You wouldn't be interested in the reason why."</p> + +<p>Marise felt that she would be interested, but didn't care to say so.</p> + +<p>"You wouldn't mind her coming to the Canyon?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course not! I should be delighted. That is, if I were there."</p> + +<p>"You would be there."</p> + +<p>"I mightn't. You see—things will change. Mums will come, and—and—I +shall go away—with her. You know what will happen."</p> + +<p>"Who knows anything about the future? But let it take care of itself. +There's plenty to think of in the present, isn't there?"</p> + +<p>"Too much!"</p> + +<p>"Not for me. Can you bring yourself to agree to that plan I proposed? +The screen——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I suppose it's the only thing to do! I've played bedroom scenes on +the stage, and this——"</p> + +<p>"Very well. That's settled, then."</p> + +<p>"Ye-es. Except—about your belongings. I suppose Mrs. Mooney is sure to +run in now and then to see how—we—are getting on."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid she will. Unless we tell her to stay out."</p> + +<p>"We won't do that! I suppose your toilet things will have to be in <i>my</i> +room—on that tallboy with the mirror which Mrs. Mooney evidently meant +for them."</p> + +<p>"If you can bear the contamination!"</p> + +<p>Marise glanced at him. But he did not speak the words bitterly. He was +faintly smiling, though it was not precisely a gay smile. She wanted to +smile back, but feared to begin again with "smiling terms," so she +replied gravely that it could be quite well arranged. "I'll +explain—enough—to Céline, and she'll unpack for you," the girl +suggested.</p> + +<p>"That's a kind thought!" said Garth. And then, as if satisfied with the +way in which troublesome matters had shaped themselves, he got up. "I +expect you'd like to have your maid in now, to help you," he suggested. +"You can ring, and I'll go and have a chin with Mothereen."</p> + +<p>Céline was lodged at a distance, but there was a bell communicating with +her quarters. She came, in an excited mood.</p> + +<p>"But it is a house of charm, Madame!" she exclaimed. (It had ceased to +seem strange, now, being "Madamed" by Céline.) "Monsieur Garth—the two +domestics who have for him an adoration, say he built it. And he has +another place larger and more beautiful, where we go. It is, then, that +Monsieur is rich."</p> + +<p>Marise did not answer. But she would have given something to do so, out +of her own knowledge. Garth and all his circumstances, and surroundings, +were becoming actually mysterious to her. She was puzzled at every turn.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't gossip with the servants here, Céline," she said.</p> + +<p>"But no, naturally not, Madame!" protested the maid. "I will listen to +all they say, and speak nothing in return. So Madame wishes the effects +of Monsieur placed in this room? <i>Parfaitement!</i> It shall be done."</p> + +<p>Luncheon was outwardly a happy meal. Mothereen so radiated joy in her +adored one's return that Marise was infected with her gaiety of spirit. +After all, life was only one adventure after another, and this was an +adventure like the rest. Well, not exactly <i>like</i> the rest! But at +least, it was not dull!</p> + +<p>All the afternoon there were callers, and Mothereen broke it to the +bride and bridegroom that, without being disagreeable, she could not +avoid inviting a "few folks to dinner, and some to drop in later." "The +dinner ones are our grand people," she explained to Marise, "the Mayor +and his wife, and a son who is a Colonel. He has married a French wife. +She is very stylish, and she'll have on her best clothes to-night. They +say she's got grand jewels. But sure, they won't hold a candle to +yours."</p> + +<p>"I haven't brought many with me, I'm sorry to say," replied Marise.</p> + +<p>Mothereen's face fell for an instant, then brightened. "Oh, I clean +forgot," she exclaimed. "The beautiful things I have waitin' fur ye. +They'll be on yer dressin'-table to-night. Now, not a wurrud, darlin'! +Ask me no questions, I'll tell ye no lies. This is a <i>secret</i>."</p> + +<p>Intrigued, Marise became impatient to go to her room, but could not +escape there till it was time to dress. Céline was already on the spot, +preparing her mistress's dress for the evening: bridal white frock, +scintillating with crystal; little slippers, silk stockings, a petticoat +of rose-embroidered chiffon and lace.</p> + +<p>But Marise did not cast a glance at these things. She walked straight to +the dressing-table, and couldn't help giving a little squeak. For there +lay the missing jewel-cases—those she had thrown into the corridor at +the Plaza Hotel on her wedding night—and had never seen since.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + +<h3>THE WHITE DOVE</h3> + + +<p>Marise and Garth neatly arranged their life according to stateroom +etiquette on shipboard. When one was in the bedroom the other was in the +sitting-room next door. They were like the figures of the man and woman +who come out and go in at the adjacent doors of a barometer; and the +plan, though inconvenient, was not unworkable. When the girl had opened +the jewel-cases and gazed once more at the glories she had thought lost +forever to her repentant eyes, she couldn't resist tapping on the wall +with a gold-backed hair-brush—one Garth had given her. Indeed, she did +not stop to think better of the impulse.</p> + +<p>Her heart—or some distantly related muscles round the organ—had +suddenly warmed towards the man. This thaw was doubtless produced by +remorse. For she had believed, on no evidence save instinct, that he had +given these lovely things—<i>her</i> wedding presents, although +discarded!—to Zélie Marks. Instead, he must have expressed them to Mrs. +Mooney in order that she—Marise—should have a chance to change her +mind. Foxy of him, because it would be difficult to refuse the gifts +again, coming as they did from the innocent hands of Mothereen! However, +she would see. She'd have a talk with Garth, and then decide.</p> + +<p>Garth was in the sitting-room, pretending to himself that he was +interested in the evening paper. He jumped up at the sound of a tap on +the wall, hardly believing his own ears. But a knock at Marise's door +brought a "Come in!" which did not sound grudging.</p> + +<p>Marise in a so-called <i>robe de chambre</i> was more dressed than in +"Dolores's" third act ball-gown at the theatre, yet there was such a +bizarre touch of intimacy in being admitted to this bedroom scene on the +stage of life that numerous volts of electricity seemed to shoot through +Garth's nerves. His face was composed, however, even stolid. "You wanted +me?" he asked.</p> + +<p>Marise didn't directly answer that question. She pointed to the +jewel-cases. "Mrs.—Mooney put these here," she said. "I—wanted to tell +you I'm glad they weren't stolen or—anything."</p> + +<p>Her words gave him time to swallow his surprise, which was quite as +great as her own had been at sight of the jewels. But he guessed at once +what had happened. What a trump Zélie was! A grand girl! She'd make a +fine wife for someone. He'd been a clumsy ass to force these things upon +her in a moment of fury against Marise; and Zélie had done exactly +right. He was immensely grateful. Some day he must find a way to repay +her for silently handing him a big chance—a chance that might mean a +lot, which but for her thought, her generosity, he would have missed.</p> + +<p>Well, it was up to him not to miss it now! He'd been an idiot over these +baubles once. He mustn't "fall down" over them again; and to let Marise +guess how he'd bungled—how a girl she didn't appreciate yet had +straightened matters out—would be to prove himself a priceless ass.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for saying that," he quietly replied.</p> + +<p>"I did tell you once before that I was sorry I'd thrown the jewel-cases +on the floor. It was <i>horrid</i> of me. I felt afterwards I'd been most +ill-bred," vouchsafed Marise.</p> + +<p>"No. More like a bad-tempered child," said Garth.</p> + +<p>"You weren't nice to me when I tried to apologise," the girl went on.</p> + +<p>"Were you trying to apologise? Sorry! I didn't understand."</p> + +<p>"What did you think I was trying to do?"</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see a small boy take a stick, and stir up some beast in +its cage at a Zoo? If you did, you'll know."</p> + +<p>Marise laughed. "What sort of a beast?"</p> + +<p>"Any sort with a sore head."</p> + +<p>"Well—to change the subject," she said rather hastily, "let's talk not +about beasts, but about jewels. I've apologised. And now officially I +put these valuable things into your hands."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather leave them in yours," said Garth.</p> + +<p>"But—I told you before I really couldn't keep them—in the +circumstances."</p> + +<p>"Haven't the circumstances changed—just a little?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't quite see how you mean."</p> + +<p>"Don't you? In that case, I suppose they haven't. Won't <i>you</i> change, +then—enough to keep the things, as I've no use for them?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I can't. You may have a use for them some day, you know."</p> + +<p>"What use? I don't seem to see Mothereen in pearls and laurel wreaths."</p> + +<p>The picture called up made them both smile. "No, but you won't—won't be +bound to me for ever," Marise explained, her cheeks growing pink. +"There'll be some other girl; a girl that perhaps you haven't even met, +yet——"</p> + +<p>"Never on God's earth will there be a girl for me, that I haven't met."</p> + +<p>Remembrance of a girl he <i>had</i> met darted through the mind of Marise. +Zélie Marks! Was the same thought in his mind? she wondered.</p> + +<p>"Who can tell about these things?" she murmured vaguely. "Anyhow, you +must please take charge of your jewels now."</p> + +<p>"But you said this morning you wouldn't like to hurt Mothereen's +feelings."</p> + +<p>"What have her feelings to do with the jewels?"</p> + +<p>"Just this. She's been keeping them for the great day—the day of our +coming. She knows they were my wedding present to you——"</p> + +<p>"Then she knows that you were shockingly extravagant."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she doesn't think so. She's better acquainted with my +circumstances than you are. Anyhow, she's looking forward to seeing you +all dolled up in the things to-night, and it'll be a blow for her if +you're not. She won't say a word to you. Only she's sure to ask me——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right! I'll wear the lot!" snapped Marise. She spoke rather +crossly, but Garth was not dashed. He was, indeed, happier than he had +been since his wedding day. His dummy hand might have scored a success +once or twice before during the strange fortnight they had passed +together, yet a world apart. He wasn't certain. But he was certain of +this: it was a small triumph. He had a "hunch" that, when the girl had +once seen herself in the pearls, the pendant, and the wreath of emerald +laurel leaves, she wouldn't be anxious to give them up.</p> + +<p>"That's very good of you," he thanked her formally. "I'm obliged to you +for Mothereen's sake as well as—but no matter for the rest. It's +nothing to you, of course."</p> + +<p>As he spoke, Garth walked to the door without waiting for a hint from +Marise. "You'll want to go on dressing," he said, "so as to leave the +place clear for me." Then, without another word, he went out and shut +the door.</p> + +<p>Marise stared at herself in the mirror. "You might have two noses—or +none—for all the notice he took of your looks," she told her +reflection.</p> + +<p>History repeated itself that evening. The guests were all +hero-worshippers, as the crowd had been at the station. The bride was +admired. No one could help admiring her. Face, figure, hair, clothes, +and jewels were all wonderful. But even those who seemed to admire her +most blatantly betrayed their opinion that she was a lucky girl to have +got Jack Garth—she, only an actress!</p> + +<p>Some of the people had come a long distance to welcome home the V.C. +from the great war, and among these were a young couple who interested +Marise, because they appeared so frankly in love with each other. What +their last name was, she didn't learn. Mothereen must have thought that +she had heard of them from Garth. "Here are Billy and Cath," she +introduced them, adding, "This is our dear Marise."</p> + +<p>Billy was in the Army, and had fought in France when America "went in." +He was stationed somewhere—Marise didn't know where—and Cath had been +a "war bride." She looked delicate, though pretty; and another girl +whispered to Marise, "Cath was never strong, but when Billy was reported +missing a year ago she went right down, and the doctors thought she'd +got T.B. My, you don't know what <i>T.B.</i> means? Everyone out here knows +only too well, because the climate in these parts and Arizona is so +good, lots of 'em come to get cured. Consumption, of course. But joy's +the best medicine in the world. You can realise how it would be with you +if it had been your gorgeous Jack! I guess Cath will get well now, +though she isn't quite right yet—and I don't suppose Billy'd have let +her take such a trip for anyone but Jack Garth."</p> + +<p>They had motored from "home," wherever that was, in what they called a +"tin Lizzie," and Billy had driven the car himself. When everyone else +was gone, Cath was still in the house, for there was trouble with +"Lizzie," and Garth had gone out with his friend to see what it was.</p> + +<p>Cath looked very tired, but her eyes were bright, and a pink flush high +on her rather thin cheeks melted into shadows under thick dark lashes. +She talked excitedly to Marise about "Jack and Bill," telling the +stranger anecdotes which would have thrilled a loving bride, but now and +then she glanced wistfully at the door.</p> + +<p>At last the two men came back, and the girl half sprang up. "I was +getting worried!" she cried. "Is Lizzie going to behave herself?"</p> + +<p>"That's what I wish I was sure of," said Billy. "The little brute is in +the sulks, and not even Jack can get at the reason, so it must be pretty +deep-seated. Still, she may bump us home if I coax her along."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, boy!" exclaimed Mothereen. "That'll never do for Cath! +Why, you might be stuck for hours. You and she must stay here and we'll +lend you what you need."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, darling!" Cath answered. "That would be wonderful. I +<i>am</i> tired. But are you sure you've room to squeeze us in, now you've +got Jack and his wife with you?"</p> + +<p>Mothereen started. "My saints!" she gasped. "I'd forgotten we'd made a +suite for them. But that doesn't matter a bit. There'll <i>be</i> room. And +you'll stop."</p> + +<p>Billy and Cath protested. They wouldn't upset the house for worlds. It +wasn't so late but Bill could go into the town and knock up the folks at +a hotel.</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort," Mothereen scolded. "We'll have a cot bed put into +my room—mine's too narrow for two; and sure I am that Marise won't mind +my having a bunk fixed up for the night in her sitting-room."</p> + +<p>Fortunately Cath and Bill were both talking too fast at the same time to +notice the expression of the bride's face, and Mothereen was looking at +them. With all her wish not to hurt Mothereen, the line had to be drawn +somewhere. Marise, trying to control her face, glanced at Garth. Her +eyes said, "This is up to you. You've got to save me. Think of +something, quick!"</p> + +<p>"Of course, nobody'll hear of your turning out, Mothereen!" Garth flung +himself into the breach. "I expect Marise will invite Cath in to chum +with her. Then Bill and I will shift for ourselves. We——"</p> + +<p>But an outcry from Cath, Bill, and Mothereen cut his words in two. None +of them would hear of such a thing. Part a honeymoon pair like that? +Never! It would be a crime.</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't Cath and I have that sitting-room if Mrs. Garth can spare +it?" asked Bill.</p> + +<p>"We-ell," Mothereen temporised, and glanced with a smile at Marise. +"What do you say, darling?"</p> + +<p>It was a terrific moment for the girl. It was worse than not knowing +your part on the first night of a new play. Again her eyes turned to +Garth. But this time he was caught unprepared. He missed his cue, and +looked agonised. Marise believed that he was thinking of Mothereen more +than of her. Still, she was sorry for the man. She just couldn't "let +him down" before his adored one and his friends. Besides, she had never +quite forgotten the ring of his voice on the night after the wedding +when he had bidden her trust him. In his strange way—such as it was—he +had never failed her since. No, she <i>wouldn't</i> let him down!</p> + +<p>"What do I say?" she answered Mothereen. "I say 'Yes,' of course. +I'm—delighted! Can't we all help to make up their beds, and bring in +washstands and things?"</p> + +<p>They all did help. And everyone lent Cath and Bill something—"for +luck." Garth contributed pyjamas for his friend. Mothereen kept a supply +of new toothbrushes of all sizes and qualities. Cath squeaked with joy +over the "nighty" Marise offered.</p> + +<p>Then at last came the moment for bidding each other "sleep well!—sweet +dreams!" The door of Cath and Bill's bedroom shut. Mothereen followed +Marise into her quarters adjoining, kissed and complimented her, and +called Garth, who was looking at a picture of himself in his first +British uniform, enlarged to enormous size in crayon, framed in gilt and +hung up in the hall.</p> + +<p>"Marise has sent her maid to bed," Mothereen explained. "She was tired +after the journey—a train headache. I thought I could undo this lovely +wreath for her, but I can't. Will you try?"</p> + +<p>Garth tried. He'd never touched the girl's hair before. Its ripples were +so soft—so soft! He had not known that a woman's hair could feel so +divine as that. For an instant he was afraid that a certain unsteadiness +of his fingers would make him awkward. But he almost prayed that it +might not, and the prayer—if it was a prayer—had its answer. He +happened to be particularly deft. The emerald laurel wreath yielded its +secret to him, and without disturbing one of those wonderful golden +waves, he laid the glittering thing on the table.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll say good night, then, me dear ones," said Mothereen. "It's +made me as happy as a bird, sure it has, to see your happiness. The Lord +is good to us all, He who brought Johnny back, safe and sound, out o' +the Furnace. His blessin' on ye both this night!"</p> + +<p>Then she was gone.</p> + +<p>Her words had brought a sense of peace into the room, as if a white dove +had flown in.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + +<h3>THE VIGIL LIGHT</h3> + + +<p>"I'll go and rouse up one of the hotels," said Garth.</p> + +<p>"But you're in evening dress," Marise reminded him. "You can't come back +like that in the morning. Besides, what would the people think?"</p> + +<p>"Hang the people!" Garth replied.</p> + +<p>"One can't—unfortunately."</p> + +<p>"Well, here's a better plan. I'll sit outside in the garden court. I can +come in—if you'll let me—before there's any chance of being seen."</p> + +<p>Marise shivered. "It would be cold!"</p> + +<p>"Pooh!" said Garth. "It's never really cold here. Don't forget it wasn't +exactly a picnic, those years in France. I don't think I shall ever mind +cold again."</p> + +<p>"Anyhow, I should feel a brute sleeping calmly here, with you sitting on +a hard bench out of doors. I may not be a very nice person," Marise +criticised herself, "but I'm not a thorough-paced <i>pig</i>. We must think +of some other possible arrangement."</p> + +<p>"There's only one other possible arrangement. And you'd not consider +that possible."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" rather breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"For you to make yourself comfortable behind a barricade of those two +useful screens in your bedroom, while I sit up in an armchair—or spread +myself out on this sofa."</p> + +<p>"I <i>do</i> consider that possible," said Marise, "now I know what kind of a +man you are. That's what we'll do! I'll slip on a dressing-gown and curl +up on top of the bed under an eiderdown. And early in the morning the +one that's awake will call the other. It's quite simple—and you see I'm +not so disagreeable as you thought."</p> + +<p>"Have I ever given you cause to believe I thought you disagreeable?"</p> + +<p>"Dear me, yes! Whole heaps of times! Not that it matters."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it wouldn't matter to you. But it does matter to me, 'what +kind of a man' you 'now know' me to be. Have you been studying me? I +hadn't noticed it. But if you have, I'd be interested to hear what +conclusions you've come to. Do you mind telling me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, my conclusions mostly concern your state of mind regarding <i>me</i>!" +said Marise.</p> + +<p>"What, according to you, is it?"</p> + +<p>"Dislike," she replied promptly.</p> + +<p>"That's a strong word!" Garth blurted out. They were standing in the +middle of the room, eyeing each other as might a pair of duellists +obliged to fight over some technical dispute. "Have I been so brutal to +you as all that?"</p> + +<p>"You haven't been brutal lately. You were—<i>dreadfully</i>—at first."</p> + +<p>"H'm! You weren't exactly angelic to me."</p> + +<p>"There's nothing very angelic in the—in the affair."</p> + +<p>"What, precisely, do you mean by 'the affair'?"</p> + +<p>"The—er—bargain."</p> + +<p>"I thought I'd convinced you that the 'bargain' had collapsed."</p> + +<p>"Well, our—marriage, then, if you like that better. I've wondered every +minute what you did marry me for, if it wasn't money. And sometimes I +think it couldn't have been, because you seem to have plenty of your +own. Still——"</p> + +<p>"Some men with plenty could do with more. Is that what you'd say?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not sure what I'd say—about you."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you think that a million dollars would always be worth +having. I'm sure your mother would think that."</p> + +<p>"The question is, not what <i>we'd</i> think, but what you thought—when you +married me."</p> + +<p>Garth looked at her for a moment in silence, as if weighing his answer, +wondering whether to stick to his fixed plan of remoteness, or risk +"giving himself away."</p> + +<p>"Do you remember any of the things I said to you the first day we met?" +he asked at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I remember you thought—then—you lo—you admired me a good deal. +But you were a different man that day from what you were afterwards."</p> + +<p>"You're right! I was. A different man. The word you broke off just now +was the one word for what I felt. Only it didn't express half. I loved +you with all there was of me. I adored and worshipped you. But—I don't +believe you've ever been in love yourself except on the surface, or I'd +ask you how much you think love can stand, and live?"</p> + +<p>Marise felt the blood pour up to her cheeks and tingle in the tips of +her ears. So it was true that he <i>didn't</i> love her now! The thought hurt +her vanity. She hated to believe that a man who'd loved her once could +<i>un</i>love her in a few days or weeks. But it annoyed her very much to +flush. She wished to look entirely unmoved. Instead, she wanted to cry.</p> + +<p>"Please do tell me once for all <i>why</i> you married me if it wasn't either +for love or money!" she said crossly, with a quiver in her voice.</p> + +<p>"When one makes a bold move on the chessboard—the chessboard of +life—there are often several motives," Garth replied. "Sometimes it's +to save the queen from being taken by an enemy piece. Perhaps that was +my principal motive, who can tell?—I don't know just what piece to +compare with Severance, though with a <i>card</i> it would be easy. He's not +a knight. Nor yet a bishop. We might call him a castle. I hear he's got +one—which needs a bit of doing up before it would suit a queen."</p> + +<p>"You married me only to keep Tony Severance from getting me?"</p> + +<p>"That might have had something to do with it."</p> + +<p>"Not for the million?"</p> + +<p>"I leave you to guess that, from what you say you know of me."</p> + +<p>"And not because you wanted me yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I don't get much good from having you, do I?"</p> + +<p>"Then it was like the dog in the manger."</p> + +<p>Garth shrugged his shoulders. "Let it go at that for to-night, anyhow. +We must talk more softly if we don't wish to keep Bill and Cath awake in +the next room."</p> + +<p>This warning was a dash of cold water!</p> + +<p>"We won't talk at all," half whispered Marise. "If you'll arrange the +screens for me, I'll rest on the bed."</p> + +<p>There were two large, four-leaved screens in the room, one in a corner +behind a sofa, keeping off a window draught, one in front of the door. +Placed as Garth placed them, they formed a room within a room, hiding +the bed from view. Marise stepped behind this "barricade," as Garth had +called it, contrived with great difficulty to unfasten a complicated +family of tiny hooks, wriggled out of her sparkling dress and into a +<i>robe de chambre</i>, turned off the light of an electric candelabrum, +turned on that of a green-shaded bedside lamp, and lay down under a silk +quilt.</p> + +<p>From Garth's part of the room she heard no sound, except when several +electric lights were switched off, and Marise imagined him uncomfortably +folded up on the sofa which was far too small for what she called "an +out-size" of man.</p> + +<p>It was dark in the room save for her bedside lamp, the shade of which +drank most of the light. So dim was it, so still was it, that after a +while Marise grew drowsy.</p> + +<p>She hadn't meant to sleep at all, but she realised that Nature was too +strong for her. Besides, what did it matter? Garth was probably asleep +too—and there were hours before dawn.</p> + +<p>The girl ceased to resist the soft pressure as of fingers on her +eyelids. They drooped, closed, and—she slept. By and by she dreamed. +She dreamed most vividly of Zélie Marks, as she had dreamed once or +twice before.</p> + +<p>She—Marise—was in this house of Mothereen's; in this very room, though +Garth was not with her. He existed, but he had gone out—or away. Marise +had taken off the jewels he had given her, and was laying them on a +table. They were beautiful! It was a pity not to keep them for her own! +Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and without waiting for +permission Zélie Marks burst in.</p> + +<p>"I've come for the jewels," she announced, in a hateful voice, looking +at Marise with angry, wicked eyes.</p> + +<p>"They're not yours, and you're not to have them," said Marise in the +dream. She spoke with courage; but suddenly she was afraid of Zélie. She +knew that the girl meant to do her harm. Some dreadful thing was going +to happen. But her voice was gone. She could not cry out. She couldn't +even speak. It was impossible to move. She felt like a bird fascinated +by a snake. The dream had become a nightmare.</p> + +<p>Zélie saw her helplessness. The big black eyes became more and more +evil. The girl advanced slowly, yet with set purpose. Without removing +her stare from Marise's face, she picked up the rope of pearls.</p> + +<p>"As you won't give these to me, though Jack wants me to have everything +of his, I'm going to make you swallow them," she said in a low voice, +cold as the tinkle of ice.</p> + +<p>Marise strove with all her might to cry out, "No—no!" but could not. +She tried to turn and dart away before Zélie could touch her, but she +was immovable as the pillar of salt that had been Lot's wife.</p> + +<p>Zélie took a handful of pearls and began stuffing them into Marise's +mouth. It was suffocation! Marise wrenched herself free of the frozen +spell and uttered a shriek.</p> + +<p>It waked her; and at the same time she was conscious of another sound—a +sound which brought back to her brain a whirling vision of things as +they really were.</p> + +<p>She remembered the screens, and why they were there.</p> + +<p>Garth had bounded up from some resting-place and had knocked over a +chair. He must think, either that she was <i>in extremis</i>, or else that +she had cried out as an excuse to bring him to her. She saw one of the +two screens sway, as if Garth had struck against it inadvertently. Then, +hastily she closed her eyes. He must be made to realise that she had +truly screamed in her sleep, and that there was no horrid coquettish +trick.</p> + +<p>Marise lay quite still, so that she hardly breathed; and Garth's steps +made scarce a sound; yet she knew that he had come round the screens and +was looking at her.</p> + +<p>After the things he had said, she was wild to know <i>what that look was +like</i>. If she could see his face at that moment, when she'd just given +him a fright, she would know without any possible doubt whether he'd +spoken the plain truth in hinting (he hadn't exactly <i>said</i>!) that he +didn't love her because she had tried him too far. But she couldn't see +his face without opening her eyes; and if she opened her eyes he'd know +she was awake. He'd suspect that she had screamed on purpose.</p> + +<p>The girl tried to breathe with long, gentle sighs, hardly moving her +breast, as she did when she played the part of a sleeper on the stage. +It was easy enough <i>there</i>; but she couldn't be a good actress after +all, because she was unable to control her breath now. Her heart was +beating fast, and her bosom rose and fell in jerks.</p> + +<p>A long time seemed to pass. Was Garth standing there gazing down at her +still, or had he tiptoed away? Marise simply <i>had</i> to know! Surely she +could just peep from under those celebrated eyelashes of hers for half a +second, without his catching her in the act, if he were there?</p> + +<p>The lashes flickered, and were still again. But Marise had seen. Garth +<i>was</i> there. He was looking down at her. Yet all her subtleties had been +vain. She couldn't read his face. It was as inscrutable as that of the +Sphinx, which she knew only from photographs. Presently she heard a +slight, almost indefinable sound, and peeping again, saw Garth in the +act of disappearing behind a leaf of the taller screen. Had he caught +that tell-tale flicker, or not?</p> + +<p>Garth went back to his darkened corner of the room, but his brain felt +as it had been brilliantly lit up, with a hundred electric candles +suddenly turned on in it. They dazzled him. But he composed himself +outwardly and lay down again on the crampingly short sofa.</p> + +<p>He had taken off collar, tie, coat and waistcoat, slipping on instead a +futurist dressing-gown which a haughty salesman in a smart shop had +forced upon him as "<i>the</i> thing." Zélie would probably have approved it. +In any case, it would have graced a Russian ballet.</p> + +<p>Minutes, hours perhaps, passed before he felt even somnolent. But the +ring of light on the ceiling above Marise's concealed lamp, resembling a +faint, round moon in a twilight sky, hypnotised him. At last sleep +caught him like a wrestler, and downed him for a moment. In a flash came +a dream. He thought that Marise had cried out again. Then he waked, in +another flash, and knew that it was not true. Vividly he saw her face, +as it had been in that last glimpse he had stolen; sweet as a rose; lips +apart, long lashes shadowing the cheeks; then—a flicker; and he saw the +bosom that had been shaken all through the silent scene with heart-beats +too quick for those of a sleeper.</p> + +<p>With this photograph upon his retina, he deliberately rolled off the +sofa, and fell with a bump on the floor.</p> + +<p>Crash! went a screen.</p> + +<p>Marise was beside him.</p> + +<p>"Are you <i>dead</i>?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"No. Only asleep," he answered with a yawn.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + +<h3>THE ALBUM</h3> + + +<p>The next day Garth received a telegram urging him to come at once to the +Grand Canyon. He was needed because of some work at Vision House which +had been stopped for his decision.</p> + +<p>Marise believed that he had had the message sent to himself, and was +grateful, for his departure relieved the situation. Later, she thought +differently; but at the time she was pleased with the man. She even gave +him a little appreciative squeeze of the hand when they said good-bye.</p> + +<p>Garth was to be gone two days. He would then return, travelling at +night, and after a few hours with Mothereen would take his wife and her +maid away. Considering the circumstances, this was as good an +arrangement as could have been hoped for by Marise. His absence, +however, did leave the house very dull! Whether one liked Jack Garth or +not, even if one hated him, his was a personality that made itself +missed.</p> + +<p>Of course, it was very unpleasant that she had to go and live in his +house. In his rough-hewn fashion, he'd been rather decent in some ways, +not abusing the man's power he had over her as a woman; still, Marise +told herself that she thanked Heaven to be rid of him. She must not +appear too joyous, however, or Mothereen would be shocked. So realistic +was the girl's air of sadness (helped by a prospect of heavy boredom), +that the dear woman attempted the task of cheering her up.</p> + +<p>"Would ye like me to show ye an album of photos I have of himself as a +boy and a growin' lad?" Mothereen wanted to know. "He was never much on +bein' took, after he grew up. But I've kept all his letters he wrote me +from the Front. They're great, and ye can have the run of 'em, me pet. +But first we'll go through the album together, don't ye think?"</p> + +<p>Marise said that she would be delighted. And she must have had a more +angelic nature than she'd supposed, because the thought of the ordeal +left her unruffled.</p> + +<p>Mothereen brought the volume in question—bound in purple morocco—and a +ribbon-tied bundle of letters to the girl's sitting-room. Then, with a +beaming countenance, she settled herself on the sofa and opened the +album on her lap. She had evidently no suspicion that she was being +patronised good-naturedly by "Johnny's" wife. Indeed, she fully believed +that the girl was impatiently waiting a treat.</p> + +<p>"Come and sit down beside me, Mavourneen," she said. "That's right! Now +we're cosy. See, this cute little photo at the beginnin' was Johnny when +I had him first. Ye know the story, don't ye?"</p> + +<p>"No-o," confessed Marise. She could easily have given an evasive answer; +but suddenly she was conscious that she <i>wished</i> to know the story. +"Maj—he—never told me."</p> + +<p>"Never told ye!" echoed Mothereen. "Never told ye aught about the father +he's so proud of, and all the rest? Why, if it had not been for that +father of his, I don't suppose he'd have gone to the war like a shot, +the way he did."</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me—unless you think he'd rather you didn't?" asked +Marise, gazing at the badly-taken photograph of a handsome, +fearless-eyed child of five or six, in funny little trousers.</p> + +<p>"Sure, there's no reason <i>why</i> he should mind. The boy has nothing to +blush for. It's all the contrary!" said Mothereen. "And I <i>will</i> tell +ye. It's right ye should hear what the gossoon fought his way up from to +where he stands now. Ye've heard, at the least, that the father was +English?"</p> + +<p>"I think I did hear him tell someone—not me—that his father was a +Yorkshireman," Marise remembered.</p> + +<p>"He was that, and a gentleman besides, an officer in the British Army. +His name was the same as the child's—John Garth. It was an American +girl he'd married, a girl from out West here. She went over to England +as a kind of a nursery governess with a family of rich folks, and there +was a row—a flare-up of some sort. The folks left her behind when they +came home, and the girl got engaged to sing with a little concert party, +tourin' the provinces. It was in Yorkshire Captain Garth saw her, and +fell in love. He was always inventin' something or other, was my +Johnny's dad: like father like son, and when the one child born to the +pair of 'em was a toddler, the Captain had an accident with some +explosive stuff he was workin' at. The poor young man's right arm was +blown off, and his eyes were hurt. That meant he must leave the army, +and as he wasn't wounded in the service of his country, not a red cent +of pension did he get! The poor girl wife was expectin' a second child, +but the shock she got by the accident brought on her trouble before its +time, and she and the baby died together.</p> + +<p>"It was nip and tuck that the Captain didn't die too. But he pulled +through somehow, and there was the boy to think of. When it turned out +that Government would do nothin', the poor man had a notion to come to +this side of the world—his dead wife's country. She'd always been +tellin' him, it seems, that those inventions of his, that the British +War Office turned up its nose at, might make his fortune in the States.</p> + +<p>"Well, he took the little money he had left, and thought to try his +luck. But he was pretty well done for, poor man, and a big storm there +was, crossin', just about put the finishin' touch; for he broke his leg +aboard ship."</p> + +<p>"Were you on the ship?" Marise asked.</p> + +<p>"Not me! 'Twas many a year since I was on board a ship," said Mothereen. +"Me and my man—Pat was his name—we had our honeymoon in the steerage. +'Twas out to the West we came, near to where we are now, which is why me +heart is in the West always. But troubles fell on Pat in business, and a +friend of his invited him to join in a new scheme, back East in New +York. The fellow'd been left a house there, off Third Avenue, and with +Pat to help in the expense of a start, furnishin', advertisin' and the +like, accordin' to him, they could coin money takin' boarders. It +sounded all right on paper, and so it might have been in practice, +maybe, with Pat to manage and me to cook, if half the boarders hadn't +slipped off without settlin' their bills. But that's what they did, the +spalpeens. And if troubles had been black out West, they was black and +blue in N'York! This was the time when Captain Garth came limpin' in out +of hospital, with his boy hangin' onto his hand. He'd seen our +advertisement in a paper, offerin' cheap board. The man looked like +death—and he didn't look like pay. But sure, me heart opened to the +pair of 'em at first sight! Ses I to meself, 'If I was to have a child, +I'd want one the pattern o' <i>that</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"What happened then?" Marise wanted to know, when Mothereen paused for +her thoughts to rush back to the past.</p> + +<p>"Just the things ye might suppose! We none of us had any luck. There was +no more doin' for the inventions in the States than there'd been in +England. The Captain left the child in my charge, and went to +Washington. There he hung about the place till the last of his money was +frittered away, and nothin' to show for it. But my, didn't that boy grow +into me heart, those days when he was like me own? Four years old he +was, and to look at him or hear him talk, you'd have said six! There +came along a big wave of 'flu, the end of that hard winter, and my Pat +and Captain Garth was both laid low with the sickness. Pat took it from +the Captain, nursin' him—and within a week of each other they was dead. +That's how me Johnny boy got to be me son."</p> + +<p>"You were a saint to adopt him, when his father caused your husband's +death," said Marise.</p> + +<p>"<i>Saint</i>, is it? Wait till ye hear the rest of the story, and know what +it was the boy did for me. Not much more than a baby he was, but with +twice the understandin' of many a grown-up man I've met. He saw the way +things were for me, with his wise little eyes, and he made up his mind +to help when the time came.</p> + +<p>"I had to give up the house, I couldn't hold on. I sold up my bits of +things, and took one room for the two of us, Johnny and me. I got some +sewin' to do, but 'twas in a neighbourhood of poor folk, and there +wasn't enough comin' in to keep bread in our mouths. What do you think +that baby did then, darlin'? I'm sure <i>this</i> is the part of the story +he'd <i>never</i> be tellin' ye!"</p> + +<p>"I can't imagine," said Marise.</p> + +<p>"How he saved a few cents I've never rightly known, for he was mum about +it. What I think is, he must have begged till he had a half-dozen +nickels or dimes. Then he bought newspapers, and sold 'em in the +streets. From the first minute he was a success, and it's not hard to +see why. He was in a different class from the poor dirty brats in the +same business. And if ye'll believe it, me girl, there was times when +the child kept the two of us on what he earned. From that day we never +looked back. He put spirit into me, and the heart to work. Now, I'll +turn over a page in the album, and show you our boy at the age of ten. +What d'ye think of him?"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't look like a seller of newspapers," said Marise.</p> + +<p>"No more he wasn't, by then. He and I had gone into the molasses candy +business. We made the candy ourselves; and if I do say it, there wasn't +its equal in New York. Johnny would have the stuff wrapped up in pretty +little packets of coloured paper tied with gold string, and I tell you, +it went like smoke! At night, Johnny attended a school, and picked up +knowledge as a chicken picks up corn.</p> + +<p>"Now, here he is in the album again at fifteen. We had the Mooney +Molasses Candies—three sorts—for sale in a lot of shops, and we'd a +little flat of our own, and money in the bank. Isn't he a fine fellow to +look at there? The makings of a man! 'Twas when he was fifteen that he +began to study the notebooks his father had left, and to turn his +thoughts to inventions of his own. The first thing was an oyster-opener. +The second was a fastener to keep shoe-strings from untying. Then there +was a big leap, and at eighteen he'd patented a toy pistol that fired +six shots, and no danger in one of 'em! That was what began to bring +<i>real</i> money in; and Johnny said, 'Mothereen' (he'd called me that name +from the first), 'the next step is goin' to take us out West to the +place that you love!' So it did! 'Twas that high-speed bullet of his +which won him the notice of the War Office. It won him ten thousand +dollars, too; and on the strength of it he brought me back to the town +where Pat and I settled first, in the happy old days. But little did I +dream even then of the destiny ahead of the boy! I was lovin' him too +much, and rememberin' the child he'd been, to realise that by me side a +real genius was growin' up. I might o' done, though, if I'd kept me eyes +open, the way he studied and worked, worked and studied, readin' the +classics and learnin' languages and mathematics the while he'd be +faggin' out some new invention. But Johnny was never the boy to brag or +talk about himself. He was always queer in spots, sort of broodin', +you'd almost say sulky, unless you knew him, and a temper, too; though +never with me. Then came his discovery of how to make motor spirit out +of coke. That finished buildin' this house we're in, and bought his land +at Grand Canyon. I mean it did all that in the first few months. Soon +afterwards the dollars poured on us by thousands—yes, tens of +thousands! You sure heard of the trench motor-tool for diggin', I know, +because 'twas in all the English papers after the war had broken out, +and Johnny was at the Front. There was all that about his Victoria Cross +at the same time, or was it a bit before? You can tell me, I guess?"</p> + +<p>"It must have been before. I never knew why he was decorated," Marise +said.</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't tell you when ye asked?" cried Mothereen, as certain as she +was of life that the girl <i>had</i> asked—yes, begged and prayed!</p> + +<p>"He never did tell."</p> + +<p>"Well, ye shall read the newspaper paragraphs yerself—American papers, +mind ye!—for he never sent me the English ones, and I got what I got +through his friends. I've columns cut out. And with them there's the +praise of the trench machine, and the new kind of steel—Radium steel, +he calls it—that they say will make him a millionaire in a year or +two."</p> + +<p>"A millionaire!" echoed Marise. "I thought he was poor!"</p> + +<p>"Poor! Ye thought that—yet ye <i>married</i> him—you, who could get anyone +ye liked, from Princes of the Blood down to Cotton Kings! You <i>darlin'</i>! +Well, ye'll have yer reward. The boy is not poor. He's rich—what +<i>anybody</i> would call rich."</p> + +<p>"Then why——" Marise burst out, and stopped herself. If she hadn't +bitten back the words, they would have tumbled out: "<i>Why</i> did he marry +me?"</p> + +<p>She felt very small in spirit and mean of soul compared with humble +Mothereen, whose faith and loyalty had bridged the dark years with gold.</p> + +<p>Why had a man brought up by Mothereen wanted to play the dummy hand in +this ridiculous game of marriage?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + +<h3>THE BEREAVED ONE</h3> + + +<p>When his ship docked, two telegrams were handed to Lord Severance. The +first which he opened was from Mrs. Sorel, and he glanced through it +eagerly.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Everything going as well as could be expected, but your return +and final completion of arrangement eagerly awaited.—Mary S."</p></blockquote> + +<p>This was not quite as reassuring, somehow, as the sender intended it to +be. There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind the words, which twanged +the wrong chords of Severance's emotions. Hastily he tore open the +second envelope, hoping to find a message from Marise herself. But the +signature was "Constantine Ionides." Then Severance read with horrified, +incredulous eyes, "Œnone died suddenly last night of heart failure."</p> + +<p>For a moment Tony did not understand all that the news would mean for +him. Œnone dead! Well, he was free, at least! The hateful farce would +not have to be gone through. He could sail for New York again in a few +days.</p> + +<p>But a shock of realisation broke the thought. Not to marry Œnone +meant that he would not get his uncle's promised wedding gift. A fortune +was lost!</p> + +<p>The blow was a staggering one. He felt its full force, as if he had +abruptly turned to face a gale from the east.</p> + +<p>Wasn't it just his luck? Didn't everything always go like that for him +in life? Almost to lay his hand on the things he wanted, to see them +slip away from under his fingers!</p> + +<p>The journey to London was interminable. He suffered so much during the +miserable hours that it seemed as if he must have the consolation of +some reward at the end—must learn that Œnone hadn't died after all, +or that, better still, Uncle Constantine intended in any case to give +him the money which should have been his.</p> + +<p>But there was no brightening of the gloom for him. In fact, things were +rather worse at the end of the journey, if possible, than he had +expected. Uncle Constantine's heart was not softened by sorrow. On the +contrary, he turned upon Severance in a rage and blamed him for +Œnone's death.</p> + +<p>The girl had faded visibly after her cousin left England. She knew one +or two people who thought it for her good to be told that Tony's +"mission" was to follow Marise Sorel. Œnone had subscribed for +several American papers, in order to read of Lord Severance's doings on +the other side. One was a weekly gossip rag, and she had been turning +over a copy when she died. In fact, the thing was found in her hand, +open at a page where Severance's name was coupled in a sneering way with +that of Marise Sorel. The actress was said to have jilted him for a +Major Garth, V.C., of his own regiment, and the rumour was reported that +out of pique Severance would now marry his rich Greek cousin in London.</p> + +<p>"It was enough to kill her—and it did!" said Ionides. "Damn you, +Severance! I wish to Heaven you were dead instead of my poor girl who +loved you. And I wish to hell I could upset her will in your favour. I +can't do that. But not a shilling of <i>my</i> money will you ever get."</p> + +<p>So Œnone had left him her own private fortune, as she had told him +she meant to do if she died! That was something—probably the equivalent +of the pledged million dollars—not allowing for the vile exchange. But +of what use was <i>one</i> million dollars to him, in his present plight? The +least he could do with was double that sum.</p> + +<p>To carry out the bargain with Garth and free Marise he would have to +hand over a cool million. But how was he going to pay even his most +pressing debts and live—much less <i>marry</i>—if he cleaned himself out of +his whole inheritance at one stroke?</p> + +<p>On the other hand, if he kept the million doubtless coming to him by +Œnone's will, he would have nothing to offer Garth. The whole plan +would be a colossal failure: worse than a failure—a catastrophe. Garth +would stick to Marise from motives of spite, if nothing worse. The +girl's life would be ruined, and she would be lost to him unless he +killed Garth, or unless the man laid himself open to divorce +proceedings—which was the very thing he would be careful not to +do—unless well paid.</p> + +<p>Of course, a woman could divorce a man for incompatibility of temper and +things of that sort in one or two states out West, in America, Severance +had vaguely heard. But a hocus pocus affair of that sort wouldn't be +considered legal in England, and Marise could never, in such +circumstances, become the Countess of Severance, even if they had money +to marry on—which they wouldn't have!</p> + +<p>Severance had not known or guessed how the girl had said to herself +that, if there were a question of jilting, <i>she</i> wished to be the +jilter, not the jilted. Had he known, he would have felt even more +bitter against Fate. As it was, he pitied Marise, although the disasters +which had fallen on them both came through her impulsiveness. If only +she hadn't rushed off and married John Garth on an hour's notice, that +beastly paragraph would never have been printed, and Œnone would +still be alive. It had been foolish, rash, passionately mistaken. +Severance felt hotly. But there was little resentment in his pain. He +blamed himself almost, if not quite, as much as Marise, and all that was +Greek in him accepted, while it writhed at, the fatality.</p> + +<p>When Œnone's funeral was over and the contents of her will known, the +legacy reached the amount promised. But—the exchange, the awful +exchange between England and America! And the equally appalling death +duties! Even if Severance decided to plunge, and offer <i>all</i> to Garth, +the sum would fall far short of a million dollars. Besides, he couldn't +offer all, or nearly all. He was dunned on every side.</p> + +<p>There were moments—moments when he was most Greek—when Tony said to +himself that he would have to leave Marise to her fate. She had made her +bed. She must lie on it. He would stay in England, pay his debts, and be +extremely comfortable on what was left over out of Œnone's gift. But +there were other moments, burning moments, fanned to molten fire by Mrs. +Sorel's letters and telegrams. He <i>couldn't</i> give up Marise! Something +must be done. And at last, through the red mists he saw a way to bluff +himself out of the depths.</p> + +<p>"Coming back at once," he cabled Mary Sorel at Bell Towers, and started +the same day (the fourteenth day after Œnone's funeral) in a cabin +given up at the eleventh hour by its purchaser.</p> + +<p>The legacy was not yet in his hands, nor would it be for months to come, +but Severance had been able to borrow a substantial sum on the certainty +of his prospects. The voyage was stormy, and not being a good sailor, he +arrived in New York a wreck. He had courage enough, however, to start at +once for Los Angeles, where he meant to see his friend and well-wisher, +Mrs. Sorel. With her counsel he would consolidate his plans, and start +the campaign against Garth.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + +<h3>THE VISITORS' BOOK</h3> + + +<p>"Oh, Tony, what a downfall of our castle in the air!" were Mary's first +words, as she held out her hands to Severance. "This beautiful Bell +Towers, where we hoped we should be so happy—you and Marise and +I—wasted—wasted! Our dream broken! The best prospect for my poor child +now is, that she can go back to the stage and begin again where she left +off."</p> + +<p>Severance had come to her for comfort, but found he had to give instead +of get it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I say! Things aren't as bad as all that!" he protested. "Tell me +exactly how matters are, so far as you know, with Marise. Then I'll tell +you how they are with me. You must remember, I'm not without +resources—or ideas."</p> + +<p>They were standing together on a rose-hung loggia, looking over a +fountain terrace where oranges shone in the sun and a hundred flowers +poured forth perfume like a hymn of praise. As Mary Sorel had said, the +place was a perfect setting for romance. But all hope wasn't over yet!</p> + +<p>Tea was brought to the loggia; and when the maid had gone, Mary began to +tell Severance—not only the news he wanted to hear, but, alas! much +news that made sorry hearing indeed.</p> + +<p>"Céline writes me, as often as Marise does," Mrs. Sorel explained, a +little shamefacedly. "I arranged that she should do so. Marise is <i>odd</i> +in some ways, you know. Not secretive exactly. No. But she has sudden, +unexpected sort of reserves. And I wanted an unbiased account of +affairs, from—well, from more than one point of view. They've left +Albuquerque, near where the adopted mother lives, and gone to the place +I wrote you about—the Grand Canyon. At least, Garth's property isn't +far from the Canyon. You can see it from the windows. 'Vision House,' he +calls the place; but I think it's more because getting the land was the +fulfilment of some old dream than because of the view. Marise says +that's wonderful, though—the view, I mean."</p> + +<p>"You can't expect me to care about the view from Garth's damned house, +where he keeps Marise a prisoner!" exploded Severance.</p> + +<p>"No, dear boy—forgive me! I was wandering from the point, thinking of +her letters. <i>They</i> wander, too. She tells me all kinds of things about +the place. She says it's amazing. She talks more of everything else than +herself."</p> + +<p>"What does she say about Garth?"</p> + +<p>"Not more than she can help. But—oh, <i>one</i> thing! Tony, she tells me +he's rich—very rich."</p> + +<p>"Rot! He wants her to believe that."</p> + +<p>"No. Someone else told her, not he. And the house, though it's simple, +is the house of a rich man, she says. I should have been there by this +time, if you hadn't wired me you were coming here to get my advice +before—before deciding what to do next. And—besides, I was a <i>little</i> +delayed by the visit of a <i>charming</i> Comtesse de Sorel who came to Los +Angeles, and thought she might be distantly related to poor dear Louis. +We fagged up the family tree together. It appears that Louis just missed +being a comte himself, by descent, because of—ah—a family accident: a +marriage that didn't take place. Think of the difference to us if——"</p> + +<p>"I'm thinking of the difference to me because of a marriage that did +take place!" Severance cut her short. "I shall start for the Grand +Canyon at once. I suppose there's an hotel there."</p> + +<p>"Marise says there's a <i>dream</i> of an hotel, close to the abyss, or +whatever you call it. The name is El Tovar, after some old Spanish +general who seems to have been even more of a brute than Garth. You'll +go there—naturally. Yet I thought from what you said that all was +over—that you couldn't <i>pay</i> Garth, and——"</p> + +<p>"I'll do something! You don't suppose I'm going to stand quietly by and +leave him in possession, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he's not exactly in <i>possession</i>. To put it like that is to +exaggerate——"</p> + +<p>"He's got the legal power of a husband over Marise, and, one way or +another, he'll have to be kicked out!"</p> + +<p>"That, at least, will be something to the good—if you succeed, dear +boy. But this terrible disappointment over the money.... What <i>do</i> you +think of doing?"</p> + +<p>Severance put into words what he thought of doing. Mums listened +earnestly, weighing each pro and con as he talked. For a wonder, she +didn't interrupt. It was only when he had finished and awaited an +opinion that she spoke.</p> + +<p>"Very good! Very good indeed!" she praised him. "It seems to me that +you've analysed the man's character, and formed your plan on the +analysis. Marise—ah, well, <i>she's</i> more complicated than he is, of +course! But I think this idea of yours will appeal to her romantic side. +Like all girls, she <i>is</i> romantic."</p> + +<p>"Everything depends upon how she feels towards me," said Severance. "She +did care a little—once. You don't think that what I—what's happened +has changed her?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see why it should have done," answered Mary. "After all, she +consented."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid your influence was for something in that!"</p> + +<p>"Naturally a mother has influence. But Marise's mind is her own. She's +very individual. Besides, the time is so short since then."</p> + +<p>Yes, Mums was right there! The time was short—very short. Only a few +weeks had passed since the day when Marise had been persuaded to accept +the first Great Plan, though it felt more like several years. She +couldn't have changed—unless association with a man like Garth had made +her value Severance more than ever.</p> + +<p>The one amendment Mary had to make was that she should travel with Tony, +and be on the spot to help in the carrying out of this new, second plan. +But her suggestion was received with an ill grace. "I want to do it all +on my own," he objected. "If Marise is romantic, as you say she is, it +would spoil the whole show to have her mother in the background. No, +what's got to be done I want to do myself. You must wait here. I'll +bring her to you when I can, if things turn out the way I expect. +Anyhow, you trust her to me, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, dear Tony," Mums assured him. Her voice didn't sound quite +sincere, but then, it seldom did, unless she was in a temper. And after +all, Severance didn't care a hang whether she trusted him or not, so +long as she did not interfere. The mother of Marise bored him with her +pretensions and affectations, though she was useful at times; and in the +future—that future which he hoped to share with Marise—he didn't +intend to see a great deal of Mrs. Sorel.</p> + +<p>Bell Towers was as beautiful as it had been described, and it was +his own for the next few months. But weary as he was, Severance +left the place that night, taking a stateroom in the train for +Williams—"Williams" being the prosaically-named junction for perhaps +the most romantic place in the world, the Grand Canyon.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Getting out at the small station Severance saw no Canyon at first. It +couldn't be so huge or wonderful as people said, he thought, and anyhow, +he didn't care for scenery—especially now. There was a pine wood, and +ascending out of it for a short distance he came to the hotel—a +glorified loghouse, it was—such a loghouse as the Geni of the Lamp +might have created for Aladdin by request. It was very big and very +beautiful. Even Severance, tired and out of temper, couldn't help +admitting its charm. Then, on the plateau of the hotel, above the wood, +he found himself gazing straight down into the canyon, and far across a +gulf of gold and rose.</p> + +<p>The man was amazed, almost stunned, for a moment. Constitutionally he +dreaded great heights and depths, and though the place was stupendously +magnificent, the moment his eyes saw its majesty Severance longed to +escape from it. With relief, he turned his back upon the flaming rocks +and sapphire depths, and almost ran into the hotel.</p> + +<p>There was a vast, low-ceilinged hall, with just the right sort of +furniture, and an odd invention—a cross between hammocks and hanging +sofas—suspended here and there by chains from the roof. In these things +girls sat; and there were several extremely handsome young men lounging +about, dressed like cowboys. Severance caught snatches of conversation +about ponies, and the "long trail" and the "short trail." Everyone had +either just made the descent into the canyon, or intended to make it; +but Severance had no wish for the adventure which brought most people to +this abode of wonders.</p> + +<p>The hotel, it appeared, was nearly full, but there were two or three +rooms free for that night, and Tony engaged one. He then inquired the +way and the distance to "Vision House."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Major Garth's!" exclaimed the hotel clerk. "It's about a mile or a +mile and a half from here. It's on the edge of the pine forest—has just +a group of big trees between it and the canyon—not enough to hide the +view, though. Some think the trees improve it—make a sort of frame. You +can walk, easily. But I saw Major Garth in the hotel half an hour ago, +with a friend who's convalescing here after being ill. I'm sure he's not +gone yet. I can send and see if he——"</p> + +<p>"Please don't do that!" Severance broke in. "I am—a relative of Mrs. +Garth, and I have a message to deliver from her mother. There's no need +to disturb Major Garth if he's with a friend."</p> + +<p>Severance had intended to bathe, change into fresh clothes, and have a +long, cool drink—the drink of his life—before starting out to call at +Vision House. He could thus have been at his best, and have felt sure of +doing himself justice in any ordeal he might be destined to go through. +But with the certain knowledge that Garth was out of the way—perhaps +only for a short time—it would have been tempting Providence to delay +for one unnecessary second.</p> + +<p>He inquired just how to go, and vetoed the suggestion that he should +first look at his room.</p> + +<p>"If you'll register, I'll ring for a chap to show you where you start +from," said the clerk, pushing a big book forward and handing the guest +a pen.</p> + +<p>"Earl of Severance," Tony wrote, expecting to see the man look +impressed, but no such emotion was visible. Instead, he turned back a +few pages to show the signature of an Indian rajah and a Scottish duke. +A mere earl looked small fry compared with them!</p> + +<p>On the same page with the duke, Severance happened to catch sight of a +name which was vaguely familiar to him, and he kept the book open to +refresh his memory.</p> + +<p>"Miss Zélie Marks," he repeated to himself. "Now where have I heard...."</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, he knew.</p> + +<p>Zélie Marks's face rose before his mind, and he recalled where he had +seen it last—recalled also a look he had caught in a pair of handsome +eyes fixed upon Garth the day of the first visit.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sorel had tried to send the two off together, and Severance had +said to himself, "That couple know each other pretty well. The girl's in +love with the fellow!"</p> + +<p>So she was out West, at this hotel, close to Garth's house! Why? What +did it mean? It must mean <i>something</i>.... Did Marise know?... Had Miss +Marks been brought here purposely to give the wished-for—the +arranged-for—excuse for a divorce? Or was the reason for her presence +more subtle and more complicated?</p> + +<p>Severance felt excited, as if he had picked up something of unexpected +value.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + +<h3>THE TERRACE</h3> + + +<p>Marise stood on the high terrace which looked towards the rose-and-gold +gulf of the Canyon. Gazing out, between the dark slim trunks of pines, +she saw the sunlight moving slowly from rock to rock. "It's like stray +sheep of the golden fleece," she thought, "being herded by an invisible +shepherd to join the flock."</p> + +<p>Yes, the moving gleams were all massed together now. But they were +travelling on. Suddenly they had ceased to be a flock of sheep. They +were shining bricks, built into a citadel.</p> + +<p>"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately palace dome decree," Marise quoted +to herself.</p> + +<p>How astonishing that so marvellous a place had existed for thousands +upon thousands of years, and she had hardly heard of it, until John +Garth had brought her to this house of his!</p> + +<p>"Vision House" was the right name for it. Garth hadn't meant it like +that—or if he had, he'd not told her so!—but one <i>had</i> visions here. +One couldn't think little ordinary, foolish thoughts. Life seemed to be +upon its highest plane, and whether one wished to do so or not, one had +to try and reach that plane. One wanted to be at one's best, to be "in +the picture"—and the best must be very good. It must even be noble.</p> + +<p>Whoever had designed Vision House and chosen its furnishings had felt +that. There were great windows bowed out in generous eagerness towards +the Canyon. There were wide loggias, upheld by clear-cut, pale stone +pillars. In the rooms were no brilliant colours to jar with the rainbow +glory just beyond the delicate green veil of pines. The curtains of grey +or cream fell in soft, straight lines that framed a glowing +picture—rocks of every fantastic form and flaming colour, under the +blue of heaven: rocks like castles carved of coral and studded with +lapis lazuli: statue rocks of transparent amethyst, or emerald, +glittering where the sun touched them or fading to the smoky blue of +star-sapphires as the shadows crept up from the bottom of the vast bowl.</p> + +<p>There was an organ in one of the rooms. Garth had thought that the +finest piano in the world would be too tinkling a thing so near the +thrilling silence of the Canyon. He could play the great instrument +himself. She wouldn't have believed it, if she had not heard the music +as she walked alone on the terrace by moonlight, and had gone to peep in +at the long, open window. <i>How</i> he could play!—though he said casually, +when she asked him, "Oh, I wanted to do it, so I taught myself. I hear +things in my head. I like to make them come out." A queer fellow!</p> + +<p>In the library there were only books which Garth thought "worthy of the +Canyon." But in her room there were a few French novels. It was the one +place in the house, too, where there were pretty, frivolous decorations +such as a Parisian beauty of the seventeenth, or an American of the +twentieth, century would love. <i>That</i> was what he thought of her! <i>She</i> +would crave such surroundings at the Grand Canyon, as well as in New +York or London! She, and no one else whom he had ever planned to bring +here!</p> + +<p>When Marise thought of that room, and the difference between it and all +the others, she felt—not angry, for one <i>couldn't</i> feel angry for small +reasons, close to the greatness of the Canyon,—no, not angry, but +pained, and—wistful.</p> + +<p>She was wistful because she could not help seeing that the things Garth +must hastily have ordered for her pleasure were actually suited to her +type, her personality, and she had growing pains of the spirit which +made her long to climb high and higher, out of herself. Somehow that +room seemed to represent herself: soft and vaguely sweet; pretty, +perfumed, charming, fantastic and—forgetable. How should Garth have +known that she would suddenly become a different self, irradiated by the +sublime glory of this place? Why, even she hadn't known it, until she +had begun to feel the change! And it had started at sight of the +difference between those other, nobly simple rooms, which somehow +matched the Canyon, and hers which childishly laughed in its face.</p> + +<p>Or—had Garth expected her to change, under the influence, which was +like the influence of all the gods, and <i>wanted</i> her to feel the +difference as she was feeling it now?</p> + +<p>As she asked herself this question a pretty, half-breed Mexican maid +flitted out upon the terrace and announced "Ze Earl of Sev'rance."</p> + +<p>Marise started. She need not have been surprised. She ought to have +known (having heard of Œnone's death) that any day might bring Tony +to her. But the truth was that, for the time—quite a long time—she had +forgotten all about him.</p> + +<p>He didn't belong to the Grand Canyon! But suddenly she felt a desire to +see what he would be like, confronting it.</p> + +<p>"Show Lord Severance out here," she directed the maid. And then, between +the moment when the girl turned her back, and the moment when Tony +stepped through an open window-door of the drawing-room, Marise had to +realise that she faced a crisis—had to prepare for it.</p> + +<p>The red-gold light that always came from the Canyon like flame made +Severance seem to have deep mauve rings under his eyes, an appearance +which gave him a dissipated look. She began by not thinking him as +deadly handsome as she had always thought him in London and sometimes in +New York. No, certainly he didn't go well with Canyons and things like +that! But, of course, he was tired. He had travelled fast, and a very +long way—to meet <i>her</i>. She must remember this in his favour.</p> + +<p>He didn't glance through the trees at the dazzling glory. He'd had +enough and too much of the old Canyon! He looked straight at Marise. And +he walked straight to her, seizing both her hands, which resisted a +little, then thought better of it and welcomed him.</p> + +<p>"Poor Tony!" she breathed.</p> + +<p>"Not 'poor Tony,' now I see you again," he said. "Marise, you're more +beautiful than ever. You're the most beautiful thing on this globe. +Where can we go, where a lot of huge windows won't be glaring at us like +bulging eyes?"</p> + +<p>"There's nobody to glare through them," answered Marise. +"My—<i>he</i>—isn't at home."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Severance. "That's why I hurried to you without stopping +even to bathe and change. I wanted a talk with you before thrashing +things out with Garth. 'Wanted'? That isn't the word! I thirsted, I +burned for it. He's not in the house, but servants are. Marise, I've +travelled six thousand miles, hardly resting—just for this moment—and +others to follow—better moments. Give me one of the better ones now. I +deserve a reward. And I can't take it here on this beastly terrace."</p> + +<p>Marise suddenly realised that nothing in the world would move her from +the terrace. She was glad of the window-eyes. They were her protectors +against—against—the man she had loved.</p> + +<p>The words spoke themselves in her head. She heard them. She was +surprised at them. <i>Had</i> loved! Didn't she love Tony Severance now? If +not, why had she done all that she had done—so many wild, reckless +things? It seemed that she was asking the question not of herself, but +of the Canyon. The Canyon was like God. In the glittering, flaming, +blue-shadowed depths of it was knowledge of Everything.</p> + +<p>"I think we must stay here," she said. "There is no other place where we +can very well go. Would you—like to sit down on that seat by the wall?"</p> + +<p>"What I would like is to kneel at your feet with my arms round your +waist and my head on your breast—your dear, divine breast," answered +Severance.</p> + +<p>"Well—you can't!" she panted. "Tony, be sensible!" She sat down +hastily, and Severance dropped beside her on the velvet-cushioned stone +seat. He sat very close to the girl, and she edged slightly away.</p> + +<p>As she did so, he followed until she was pressed into the corner of the +bench. He laid his arm along the back of the seat, and pressed her +thinly-covered shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Please don't!" she whispered.</p> + +<p>Severance laughed out—a bitter laugh. "This is the way you greet me +after all I've gone through to get to you—and to get you!" he said. +"You know, I <i>am</i> going to get you."</p> + +<p>Marise did not answer. She knew nothing of the kind. All she knew was, +quite suddenly, that there was no longer any doubt in her mind on one +subject. She did <i>not</i> love Tony! She was sorry for him, and sorry for +herself, and sorry for everything in the world. But she did not love +him. She disliked having him touch her.</p> + +<p>"You <i>do</i> know it, don't you?" he insisted.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't," she stammered. "There—there's nothing to know."</p> + +<p>"Are you acting a part with me?" Severance flung at her. "Or what has +come over you, Marise? One would think you in reality the virtuous +married woman, keeping the <i>tertium quid</i> at arm's length——"</p> + +<p>"Well, I <i>am</i> a married woman. And—and I'm not <i>un</i>virtuous!" she +defied him, through her heart-beats. "Things have changed, Tony——"</p> + +<p>"Why—because I've got a million dollars less than you expected me to +have?"</p> + +<p>The girl sprang to her feet, tingling and trembling. Severance jumped up +also, and belted her slim waist with his hot hands. He thought that this +was the way to regain her—that by grasping her body he might seize her +elusive spirit. It was all that Marise could do not to scream, "Help! +Help!" like an early-Victorian heroine. She bit back the cry of +primitive womanhood, but to her intense surprise, and even horror, she +found herself landing a rousing box on Tony's ear.</p> + +<p>"You vixen!" he blurted.</p> + +<p>"Cad!" she retorted.</p> + +<p>With that, his hands dropped from her waist. His face had been pale with +fatigue. Now it was paler with pain. "You don't—mean that, Marise?" he +stammered.</p> + +<p>And, of course, she didn't. Things had happened in the past which had +encouraged him to this. He had thought she loved him. She was to blame +as much as he was—more, perhaps—the Canyon would say.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry I boxed your ear, Tony," she apologised. "But—but—if you go +on like this, I'm awfully afraid I shall lose my head and box it again."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand you," he said, more quietly.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand myself," she confessed.</p> + +<p>"Then"—and fire from the Canyon lit Severance's Greek eyes—"it's my +plan to make you understand. You love me. You <i>daren't</i> go back from it +all, after what's passed. I love you, and you belong to me."</p> + +<p>"Good afternoon, Severance," said Garth, at the window. "I heard you'd +arrived."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + +<h3>STRAIGHT TALK</h3> + + +<p>If Garth had appeared two minutes earlier, he need have suffered no +uncertainty about Marise. But unfortunately she was not in these days +the romantic heroine of a stage play. Characters did not come on or go +off at just the right instant to work up her scenes in life. Therefore +this unrehearsed effect ended with an anti-climax. Whether Severance +were cast for hero or villain remained doubtful: and whether she had +acted the noble wife or the weak lover was left vague: or at least, it +was vague to the mind of Garth. He had no idea what Marise had done. He +was sure only that Severance had done as much as she would let him do. +By and by he expected to learn a great deal more: through the process of +deduction.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, if I <i>had</i> called out, he would have heard me!" thought +Marise; and was thankful that she hadn't. To yell for John Garth to +rescue her from Tony Severance! That would have been too inane, too +ridiculous. Nevertheless, a picture flashed vividly across her brain: +Garth as he had looked that night at Mothereen's house when hearing her +shriek he had bounded to her bedside from behind the screen. His collar +had been off, his strong throat bare, his hair rumpled. It had occurred +to Marise as she peeped from between her lashes that he'd make a fine +model for a young Samson, newly sheared by Delilah.</p> + +<p>The man's quiet voice and his drawled "Good afternoon, Severance," +frightened her a little. She had seen him angry, but never violent. She +felt convinced, somehow, that the angrier he was, the more quiet he +would be—deadly quiet. Just why she felt that, she couldn't have +explained, for she did not know him well—indeed, she knew him hardly at +all. Yet she <i>was</i> sure—very sure. And she was sure also that his "good +afternoon" didn't express Garth's real emotion at sight of Severance +with her on the terrace of Vision House.</p> + +<p>"What had I better do?" she wondered. "Go—or stay?"</p> + +<p>She decided to stay, and keep peace between the two men if need be. +Besides, she <i>must</i> hear what they would say to each other!</p> + +<p>Severance had no conventional answer for Garth's "Good afternoon." He +stood silent, staring and frowning, fingering his small black moustache.</p> + +<p>"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" asked his host.</p> + +<p>Severance had never been able to forget the scene between himself and +Garth at the latter's hotel in New York. He was at heart more Greek than +British; and the days are long past since Greeks were aggressive +fighters. He shrank from any repetition of his experience at the +Belmore, and had come to Vision House meaning not to rouse Garth to +violent issues. That cool question was too much, however, for his +prudence. Anyhow, even Garth wouldn't be brute enough to attack him +before Marise!</p> + +<p>"I have come to bring Miss Sorel a message from her mother, who wants +her at Los Angeles," he said sharply.</p> + +<p>"That might do if she were Miss Sorel," returned Garth. "But she isn't."</p> + +<p>"She is professionally," said Severance.</p> + +<p>"She's ceased to be a professional."</p> + +<p>"Temporarily."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Your point is that she's the temporary wife of a temporary +gentleman, and that as such her time with the T.G. is up. Is that it?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely."</p> + +<p>"I see. You've come to wind up the arrangement?"</p> + +<p>"I have. You must have been expecting me."</p> + +<p>"I didn't let my mind dwell on you. How are you going to pay me my +million—in banknotes, bonds or a cheque? Because I may as well inform +you, I shall refuse to accept a cheque."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean to offer you one."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Have you got the million on you?"</p> + +<p>"I have not! I haven't got it anywhere—that is, all of it. I shall pay +you by instalments."</p> + +<p>"I can't agree to accept the money like that."</p> + +<p>"You'll have to!" exploded Severance. "There's nothing else you can do."</p> + +<p>"You think so? We shall see. But it occurs to me that one instalment +deserves another. You pay me by instalments: I allow my wife to go to +her mother by instalments. Some of her trunks can go first."</p> + +<p>"For God's sake don't joke about this thing!" broke out Severance. "It's +too coarse—even for you."</p> + +<p>"Strikes me that it would be coarser to take it seriously," said Garth. +"And there's no need of doing that any more."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" the other asked sharply.</p> + +<p>"As I pointed out before, the 'bargain's' smashed to bits."</p> + +<p>"Nothing of the sort!" Severance flung at him. "There wasn't a word +spoken about handing you the whole million in a bunch."</p> + +<p>"There was something said about handing it over in advance. It wasn't +handed over."</p> + +<p>"That was Marise's fault, not mine. She rushed on the marriage out of +childish pique against me, never stopping to dream of the consequences."</p> + +<p>"Which, however, haven't been very disastrous for her," said Garth. +"Have they, Marise?"</p> + +<p>"No—o," she murmured. "But oh, please, both of you—don't lose your +heads!"</p> + +<p>"Mine's on my shoulders," returned Garth calmly. "And I see an +excrescence of some sort protruding from Severance's. You need have no +fear for either of us. Still, if you prefer to wait indoors, we can get +on without you for awhile."</p> + +<p>"No, I'd rather stop where I am." Marise chose.</p> + +<p>"To go back then," said Garth; "the fault, if it was a fault, anyhow +wasn't mine. I obeyed the lady's commands and married her without +haggling for money down. As there was no 'bargain' to stick to, I stuck +to my post, the post of dummy husband, to oblige her, not for any +mercenary reason. I shall go on sticking to it, if not to please her, or +myself, just because I've got into the habit. I can't break that even +for Mrs. Sorel; certainly not for you."</p> + +<p>"I'm not talking of myself now," barked Severance. "I'm talking of +Marise. She wants to be free. Surely you won't hold her against her +will."</p> + +<p>"Surely she can speak for herself!" said Garth.</p> + +<p>Marise did not speak. Her senses began to whirl. She did not know what +was to become of her. She couldn't tell what she wished would become of +her! She felt as if a wave had swept over her head. She was drowning.</p> + +<p>"No!" snapped Garth, when she remained silent, looking at neither, but +gazing anxiously out towards the Canyon. "No, I agreed to play the dummy +hand during your absence for the sum of a million dollars. I haven't got +the million. But even if I had got it, I should have demanded a second +million to clear out. There was nothing specified on that score in New +York."</p> + +<p>"It was taken for granted, of course!" said Severance. "There was no +other meaning possible. We trusted to your honour."</p> + +<p>"We?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Sorel and I—and her mother."</p> + +<p>"That's news to me. Perhaps I shall appreciate it as a compliment when +I'm old—ninety or so. I don't now. I simply don't believe it."</p> + +<p>"You think we lie?"</p> + +<p>"First person singular, please! Marise hasn't spoken."</p> + +<p>"Damn you!" broke out Severance, at the end of his tether, and for once +reckless of consequences. "You refuse to let her go—you refuse equally +to leave her."</p> + +<p>"That's so," said Garth, with an exaggerated nasal twang which made +Severance want to kill him for his insolence. He started forward, +itching to strike; but something he saw in Garth's eyes brought him to a +standstill. That confounded tooth episode was always "throwing itself up +at him," so to speak! Fortunately, however, he remembered something at +that instant—a weapon which he had almost overlooked, though it was +within his grasp. He calmed himself with a kind of mental and physical +stiffening.</p> + +<p>"If you don't intend to carry out your agreement—I insist, <i>your +agreement</i>—! why have you brought that secretary girl, Miss Marks, all +the way from New York to El Toyar Hotel?" he hurled at Garth. "When I +heard she was there and that you were constantly riding over from your +place to see her, I supposed it was done on purpose to give Marise an +easy chance to get her divorce. As it is——"</p> + +<p>"As it is," Garth cut him short, "the affair is not your business."</p> + +<p>"It's Marise's business, if it <i>doesn't</i> mean what I thought."</p> + +<p>"Then let her attend to it. She's quite capable of doing that," said +Garth. "And now, unless you can produce a million dollars at sight, or +still better, two million, don't you think you'd be wise to blow back to +your hotel? It'll soon be too dark to walk."</p> + +<p>Severance turned furiously to the pale girl. "Marise—can you stand by +and see me ordered away like this?"</p> + +<p>She looked at him with a strange look which he could not read at all. +"This is his house, Tony," she answered, in an odd, dull voice. "Not +mine."</p> + +<p>"I think you'd best go, for your own sake," said Garth. "But come back, +of course, when you've got the money. If we're here then, we'll be glad +to see you."</p> + +<p>Severance turned without another word, even to Marise, and walked away +as he had come, passing through the drawing-room. Garth started to +follow, but Marise ran to him and stopped him with a small, ice-cold +hand on his arm. "Why are you going after Lord Severance?" she +whispered, her lips dry.</p> + +<p>"Only to see that he doesn't lose himself somewhere in the house and +hide under a table or sofa," Garth explained.</p> + +<p>Her hand dropped. She let him go.</p> + +<p>There was no fear of anything melodramatic, she saw. Yet she was not +relieved. She felt as if she had some black, hollow, worn-out thing in +her breast instead of a heart. It was heavy and useless, and hardly +beat.</p> + +<p>"That horrid girl!" she said half aloud when Garth had gone. "I always +knew, really, she would be here. I believe he <i>did</i> give her the jewels, +and Mothereen wangled them away from her somehow. He's pretending to +follow Tony, and see him out. But he doesn't mean to come back here to +me."</p> + +<p>As she thought this, Garth came back.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + +<h3>STUMBLING IN THE DARK</h3> + + +<p>After all, Severance had hardly expected a more brilliant result from +his bluff. The one real failure was in losing his temper, which, when +discussing his plan with Mums, he'd meant to preserve like a jewel of +price.</p> + +<p>Only the short preliminary round had been played. The game proper was +all before him. He'd tested Marise to begin with. She had not been +completely satisfying. That is, she hadn't thrown herself into his arms +and sighed, "Take me away, darling Tony!" which would have been the +ideal thing. But on the other hand, she hadn't very actively repelled +him. If Garth had not appeared on the scene like a stage demon, all +might have been different. The fellow was a bully, and had cowed the +girl. Heaven knew to what means he had resorted in these last weeks to +break her high spirit. But of course there was no doubt that she wanted +to free herself, and the best service Severance could give his dear +lady-love was to take her (ostensibly) against her will.</p> + +<p>That brought him back mentally to the plan he had explained to Mary +Sorel at Bell Towers—the plan she had approved. He must carry it out at +once. And Zélie Marks's presence at the hotel might help, he began dimly +to see now.</p> + +<p>By the time he had reached El Toyar he saw with more clearness. At the +hotel desk he scribbled on one of his visiting cards, "Please grant me a +short interview. I come to you from Mrs. John Garth." This card he +slipped into an envelope and closed down the flap. Then he addressed it, +and requested the clerk, "Kindly have this sent up immediately to Miss +Marks."</p> + +<p>While he awaited an answer, or the arrival of Zélie, Severance debated +whether or no to wire Mary Sorel.</p> + +<p>She had suggested his doing so, to prevent any danger of scandal in the +working out of the plan. But in his heart Tony had no longer the holy +terror of that bogey which had chilled him while Œnone was alive.</p> + +<p>Then, the least whisper of gossip connecting him with Miss Sorel, or +even Mrs. Garth, might have ruined the prospect of marriage with his +cousin: and that would have been, indirectly, as harmful to Marise as +himself. Now, however, when there was nothing further to be gained or +lost for either of them from Constantine Ionides, Severance need think +only of himself and Marise; and he thought of himself first.</p> + +<p>His intention was to take Marise away from Garth, who had no right to +the girl and was keeping her against her true wish. If necessary, +Severance would take her by force, for her own good, because then the +thing would be done and over with: there would be no going back. +But—anyhow—he would take her!</p> + +<p>Mums had urged him to wire, if his first attempt failed, and Garth +refused to see reason as presented to him with mild bluff. She wanted to +fly to the Grand Canyon and be on the spot—ready for emergencies—to +stand by her daughter. But Severance wasn't sure even now, as things had +turned out, whether he would be wise in furthering this wish.</p> + +<p>It was natural, of course. But just as scandal would have been fatal +before, it might be useful in the present situation. If her "Mums" were +close at hand, Marise might in the first confusion of her mind seek +refuge under the maternal wing, from the man she loved. If she did +anything futile like that, it would give Garth time to act: whereas, if +Marise had no refuge but her lover—oh, distinctly it would be tempting +Providence to telegraph to Mums!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Well?" said Garth, when Marise stood statuelike in the blue dusk.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it <i>is</i> very well," she answered slowly.</p> + +<p>"I warned you fairly that I'd not stand out of Severance's way," Garth +reminded her, his face so grey and grim in the twilight that the girl +remembered how she had thought it looked carved from rock.</p> + +<p>"Yet only a few minutes ago you offered to leave me, for a bribe of a +second million."</p> + +<p>"There can't be a 'second' million till there's been a first."</p> + +<p>"The principle is the same."</p> + +<p>"There's where you're mistaken. I think now the time has come for you to +understand. But I had a sneaking idea that perhaps you did understand, +already. You have a sense of humour—a strong one, for a woman."</p> + +<p>"Has a sense of humour anything to do with—this affair?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. A grim one. But if you don't see it——"</p> + +<p>"Sometimes for a minute I've wondered if I did see—something."</p> + +<p>"What did you think you saw?"</p> + +<p>"I—hardly care to put it into words."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'll do it for you. But if I do, you must answer honestly."</p> + +<p>"I will—if I answer at all."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I'll risk your answering. You wondered pretty often and by +flashes if the question of money ever had anything to do with my +accepting the damnable and disgusting offer Severance made to me. Was +that it?"</p> + +<p>"Ye-es. Though what else could it be, when you showed in every way that +your love—if it was love—had turned to—to actual <i>hate</i>, before you +married me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not so bad as that!" Garth protested, something like a queer, +suppressed laugh, shaking his voice.</p> + +<p>"Dislike, then."</p> + +<p>"That sounds as if I hadn't treated you decently."</p> + +<p>"No, for you <i>have</i>. You've been very decent indeed—except that you've +forced me to do lots of things I haven't wanted to do, like living in +that suite at the Plaza and—and coming out here, and all that."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it necessary, as you were so anxious to avoid scandal?"</p> + +<p>"There might have been other ways."</p> + +<p>"I didn't see them. Anyhow, it's done now. It can't be undone. And as +things were, I've tried to treat you as you want to be treated, all +through. As to the money, I will defend myself there, since it seems +that you have seen to the bottom of the well—where truth lies!—only in +those short flashes. If Severance had ever tried to hand me a million +dollars or any other sum for what I've done, I'd have thrown it in his +face, and knocked the face in after it. That's what I meant from the +first. So now you know."</p> + +<p>"But—if you'd stopped wanting me? Why—why? You said yourself I didn't +seem to be a judge of how much it took to kill love."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I said that."</p> + +<p>"And you said other things. You said a million was always useful to +anyone——"</p> + +<p>"There I banked again on your sense of humour. Or perhaps a little on +your judgment of character."</p> + +<p>"I must confess I've tried to judge yours!" Marise exclaimed, almost in +spite of herself. "But I can't—I'm always stumbling against things—in +the dark."</p> + +<p>"Well, there's plenty of 'dark'! I admit that," said Garth. "Many people +would say that of me. Perhaps the only one who wouldn't is little +Mothereen, and we can't count her, can we? There are all sorts of horrid +possibilities in the dark, where a character's concerned. My motive, +though <i>not</i> mercenary, might have been revenge punishment!"</p> + +<p>"That's often seemed to me the most likely!" cried Marise. "Especially +<i>now</i>."</p> + +<p>"Especially now? Explain, please."</p> + +<p>"Now, when you've brought <i>that girl</i> out here, close to this house. You +did bring her, didn't you? You asked me to be honest. Be honest +yourself!"</p> + +<p>"By my request she came."</p> + +<p>"You paid for her to come?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I couldn't let her give up a good job in New York, even for +awhile, and travel so far on my business, at her own expense—could I?"</p> + +<p>"On your business?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I told you once that Miss Marks was an old friend. We've known +each other for years. She used to live at Albuquerque. Cath and Bill, +whom you met, are her cousins—or rather, Cath is. Mothereen is +fond——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, now I'm <i>sure</i> of something I only wondered about before!"</p> + +<p>"Will you tell me what that is?"</p> + +<p>"A note for Meesis Garth from the Hotel El Tovar," announced the voice +of the half-breed maid.</p> + +<p>"Bring it to me!" Marise ordered.</p> + +<p>The girl, instinctively aware that she'd interrupted a "scene," tripped +across the terrace with an apologetic air. Marise almost snatched an +envelope from a little silver tray and tore it open. Her strong young +eyes could just make out through the dusk a few lines of written words.</p> + +<p>"This is from Zélie Marks!" she exclaimed, looking up at Garth. "She +wants me to come over at once and see her at the hotel. She says she has +been ill, and that's the reason she's staying on there."</p> + +<p>"She tells the truth. She had appendicitis. They thought there'd have to +be an operation, but they cured her up—or nearly—without. Why does she +ask to see you?"</p> + +<p>"She says she'll explain everything when I get there."</p> + +<p>"Do you intend to go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I'd like to hear—her story."</p> + +<p>"All right—go. You shall have the car, of course. But there are a few +things I'd prefer to tell you myself first."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather hear everything from her."</p> + +<p>Garth gave a shrug. "Very well. As you please. But you and she both seem +to forget dinner-time. You'll be hungry if——"</p> + +<p>"I won't be hungry!" cried Marise. "I want to start now."</p> + +<p>"I'll see to it for you," said Garth, with that quiet, rather heavy air +which irritated Marise sometimes and always puzzled her. For that was +one of the things about him which upset her judgment of his character.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<h3>ZÉLIE GETS EVEN</h3> + + +<p>"Will you step into Miss Marks's sitting-room? She's expecting you," +Marise was greeted, arriving at the hotel.</p> + +<p>"A private sitting-room! And Jack Garth's money pays for it," she +thought dully. But of course it was nothing to her. At least, it would +have been nothing if, while keeping it secret, he was not bent on +driving away the man who loved her—Marise. Oh, and that reminded her of +an important thing! It had been on her lips to accuse him of giving +Zélie the jewels, but she had been interrupted, or had forgotten. Then +the note had come from the hotel.... She would have the truth out of +Zélie herself.</p> + +<p>The sitting-room was on the ground floor, and had a loggia all its own, +lit by a red-shaded electric lamp, like an illuminated poppy. Zélie was +there in a huge American rocking-chair, gazing Canyonward under the +moon, when Mrs. Garth was shown into the room. Instantly the girl jumped +up, and Marise saw her framed in the door. She looked pale, and thinner +than she had been in New York. But the change wasn't unbecoming.</p> + +<p>The conventional thing would have been for Zélie to say, "How good of +you to come! I hope you didn't mind my sending for you, as I've been +ill." Whereupon Marise would naturally have answered, "Not at all."</p> + +<p>But nothing of the kind happened. The two girls eyed each other like +fencers, or even like cats. Then Marise said, "You see, I've come."</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Zélie, "I supposed you would, after what Lord Severance +told me."</p> + +<p>Marise was startled. "Lord Severance! <i>What</i> did he tell you?"</p> + +<p>"That you suspected your husband and me of all sorts of unmentionable +things, and that you wouldn't be satisfied until you'd had it out with +me. Well—now you can have it out with me. Fire away, Mrs. Garth. I've +nothing to be ashamed of. It's all the other way round."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" gasped Marise.</p> + +<p>"Well, frankly, I mean that you should be ashamed of suspecting him. You +ought to know him better."</p> + +<p>"I said not one word to Lord Severance about suspecting my—Major +Garth," Marise broke out in self-defence.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you?" echoed Zélie. "Well, that's funny, since he sent up his +card and told me you were wild. He urged and urged, if I had any +friendship for Jack Garth, to write and get you here."</p> + +<p>"That's very strange," said Marise. "But I suppose—one must +suppose!—he meant well. Now I am here, if you have anything to tell me +you might as well tell it."</p> + +<p>"Does Jack know you've come?" asked Zélie quietly.</p> + +<p>"He does. We were talking about you when your note arrived. You see, +Lord Severance mentioned that you were at the hotel."</p> + +<p>"Then why did you want to talk with me? Surely you'd believe Jack? I +shouldn't think <i>anyone</i> ever accused him of lying!"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> never did! But I—well, when your note came I thought I'd rather +hear everything from you. It wouldn't have occurred to me otherwise."</p> + +<p>"You mean you wouldn't have proposed coming over here if I hadn't +written?"</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't even have thought of it."</p> + +<p>"Then it's a game of Lord Severance's we seem to be playing."</p> + +<p>"I don't see his object," puzzled Marise.</p> + +<p>"Neither do I," replied Zélie—"yet. But as you say—now you are here, +we might as well talk. Won't you sit down?"</p> + +<p>"No, thank you," said Marise. "I'd rather stand."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you don't mind, <i>I'll</i> sit. I'm not very strong yet, as I told +you in my letter, that's why I'm still here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please do sit down!" cried Marise, more gently. "In that case I +will sit, too."</p> + +<p>"In justice to Jack I ought to tell you the whole story of why I came +out," said Zélie. "He and I decided it would be best for you not to +know. At least, <i>I</i> decided, because I'm a woman and realise how a woman +feels about such things. However, as he let you come here to see me, he +must have expected you to hear the truth. Goodness knows, it's simple +enough, and won't take long in the telling! The morning after you were +married he called early to see me, and asked if I'd do him a big favour. +Of course I said yes. The favour was, to start out West at once, buy +pretty things to decorate your room at Vision House, get the whole place +in apple-pie order, and engage servants from somewhere—no matter where, +and no matter what wages. Mothereen wasn't strong enough to have the +whole work thrown on her shoulders, though she'd have loved it. But when +I'd finished a lot of commissions at Kansas City, I stopped at +Albuquerque and told her about you."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what you told?" Marise laughed a little nervously.</p> + +<p>"What Jack would have wanted me to tell, not what you deserved."</p> + +<p>Mrs. John Garth stiffened. "Are you the judge of what I deserve?"</p> + +<p>"God help you if I were! All I know about you is, that you're the most +spoiled, conceited girl I ever saw, and that you're not capable of +appreciating Jack Garth—no, not <i>capable</i>!"</p> + +<p>"You don't know in the least what I'm capable of!" The cheeks of Marise +were burning now. They felt as if they had been slapped. "I never showed +my real self to you. Why should I?"</p> + +<p>"Why, indeed? But you showed me all your gladdest rags, and your jewels +and newspaper notices, and let me answer lots of your love-letters, +meaning to make the poor secretary envious."</p> + +<p>"What horrid thoughts you had of me! I never meant that."</p> + +<p>"Subconsciously, if not consciously, that's <i>just</i> what you did mean."</p> + +<p>"I won't dispute with you, Miss Marks. But speaking of jewels—since +you're being so frank—tell me if Major Garth didn't make a present to +you of a rope of pearls, an emerald laurel wreath, a sapphire and +diamond pendant——"</p> + +<p>Zélie was strongly tempted to answer bluntly "Yes." If she did, and left +it at that, Marise would be furious. She would go back to Vision House +and quarrel with Jack, even if the two hadn't quarrelled irrevocably +already, and the divorce which might give Jack to her would come soon. +But no, she had vowed to herself that she would be loyal to Jack through +everything. She had vowed, too, that she would "get even" with Marise +Sorel some day—and now was the day when she could "bring off the +stunt," as she said to herself. But she wouldn't get even in a way to +hurt Jack. If possible, she'd do it in a way to help him.</p> + +<p>"He gave me those things to take out to Mothereen and ask her to keep +them for you, till you came," lied Zélie. And lying, she looked more +indignantly virtuous than when she had been telling the simple truth.</p> + +<p>Marise believed her.</p> + +<p>"Is there anything more you want to know?" inquired</p> + +<p>Miss Marks. "Because if you do, I can't think of much which would +especially concern or interest you, except that Mothereen—Mrs. +Mooney—came to the Grand Canyon with me and helped as much in the work +as she was strong enough to do. So you needn't imagine she told you any +fibs. If there were <i>reservations</i>, I'm responsible. She'd have blabbed +out everything if I hadn't warned her you wouldn't be pleased to hear +that I'd been Jack's chosen messenger. You didn't like me much, I said. +You and your mother thought I was rather forward and above my place. +You'd think so a heap more if you knew. Mothereen promised to hold her +tongue. It must have been a struggle for her. She's as ingenuous as a +child. So is Jack in some ways. He'd have told you all about me if I +hadn't made him see it wouldn't do."</p> + +<p>"You seem to have been awfully solicitous on my account," said Marise.</p> + +<p>"It was on Jack's account really," explained Zélie.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want his apple-cart to be upset—no matter what I thought of +the apples. I didn't care a hang for them personally."</p> + +<p>Marise laughed. "The apples were me."</p> + +<p>"That's it. Pretty, good-smelling apples, with pink cheeks and satin +skin. But at heart—r-o-t-t-e-n!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks!" choked Marise, and got up. "Thank you for <i>all</i> your +frankness. I could return some of it, but you've been ill, and <i>I</i> don't +like being rude. I must just say one thing, however, before I go. You've +given yourself away dreadfully."</p> + +<p>Zélie stumbled to her feet. "How?"</p> + +<p>"By showing me exactly what your feeling is for Major Garth."</p> + +<p>"I'm his pal from the beginning to the end."</p> + +<p>Marise ignored the evasion. "You needn't be afraid that I'll be cad +enough to go and tell him what I think about you. He probably knows your +feelings and returns them, but——"</p> + +<p>"He doesn't. Are you a <i>damn</i> fool, or are you only pretending?"</p> + +<p>"I daresay I'm a damn fool," repeated Marise sweetly. "In any case, I'm +not pretending."</p> + +<p>"Then you're doubly a fool!" shrilled Zélie. "A damned fool not to know +how Jack feels for you, and a damneder one not to know enough to feel +right towards him. Jack's the salt of the earth. There's more courage +and good faith and everything noble and big in his little finger than in +your whole lovely body. So now you can go home. And put <i>that</i> in your +pocket!"</p> + +<p>Marise went. She shut the door softly, so softly and considerately that +it hurt worse than a loud slam.</p> + +<p>"I did get even with her!" Zélie thought. And plumped down on the sofa +with a sob.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + +<h3>WHEN SEVERANCE THREW DOWN THE KEY</h3> + + +<p>Not far from the door of Zélie Marks's room another door stood open. +Marise would have whirled past it without noticing, had not her name +been called.</p> + +<p>She turned her head, with a slight start, and saw Severance.</p> + +<p>"Come here a moment, my dear one," he said. "I have to speak to you."</p> + +<p>Marise hesitated. Her brain was not clear. She felt dazed, as if Zélie +had boxed her ears, as she had boxed Tony's earlier. She longed for +sympathy. No one—not even Garth himself!—had ever been so horrid to +her before, as Zélie had.</p> + +<p>Severance took her hand and drew her gently over the threshold into a +private sitting-room much like Miss Marks's. Then, when she was safely +inside the room, he shut the door, locked it, and jerked out the key.</p> + +<p>"Tony!" cried Marise. She felt as if some scene in one of her plays had +come true. Except that—Tony wasn't the villain who locked the heroine +in. <i>Surely</i> he wasn't the villain!</p> + +<p>"This isn't the right time for a joke," she said.</p> + +<p>"And this isn't a joke," said Severance.</p> + +<p>"Well, unlock the door at once, please, and let me out," she insisted. +"I must go——"</p> + +<p>"Where must you go?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Where! Ho—back, of course."</p> + +<p>"To Garth—after what happened between us three at his house this +evening? It's impossible for you to go back to him, Marise. He can't +expect it himself. When you came away to-night—if he knew you came—he +must have known the whole thing was finished, the farce played out."</p> + +<p>The girl felt as if a chilly breeze blew over her. She did not answer +for a moment. She was wondering in an awed way if Tony were right. Was +that the reason Garth had let her go so easily, to answer Zélie's note +in person? But no. He had only just reminded her the moment before how +he'd never intended giving her up to Severance. Still—when she thought +of it—what <i>was</i> there to go back for, unless she intended to stay +married to Garth—to be married to him as other women were married to +their husbands?</p> + +<p>She had never contemplated that, even at the times—and there had been +times—when she'd admired Garth, admired him with a secret thrill. +Besides, no matter how much Garth had wanted her, in the first throes of +his infatuation, he didn't want her now—for good. Oh, such an end to +the play wasn't to be dreamed of, from whichever side you looked at it!</p> + +<p>"If I go away anywhere from Vision House, it will be to my mother," she +said at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes, of course. That's where I'm going to take you. We'll go to-night. +There's a train we——"</p> + +<p>"I can't possibly go with you!" she cried. "Don't you see, to do that +would cause the very scandal we've all sacrificed so much to prevent?"</p> + +<p>"I do see," said Tony. "But you said yourself to-day that 'everything +had changed.' We don't need to be afraid of scandal any more. It can't +hurt us now. It will do us good. Marise, I've been thinking things over, +and I believe that the only way we can get that brute to free you is by +deliberately making a scandal. All the trouble comes from your throwing +yourself at the fellow's head in such a hurry. If you'd waited, Œnone +dying when she did would have made your marriage useless. You and I +would both have been free——"</p> + +<p>"We were both free before you decided you'd have to marry Œnone," +broke in Marise.</p> + +<p>"That was different. I was in debt and hadn't a penny to play with. I +couldn't live on you. Now my debts are paid, and though they've not left +me a very rich man, I've got something to go on with——"</p> + +<p>"You have, because Jack Garth won't take your money."</p> + +<p>"Oh, wouldn't he, if he could get it?"</p> + +<p>"No!"</p> + +<p>"Well, again, there'd be no question of money at present between him and +me if you'd waited, and hadn't tangled yourself up in this beastly knot +to spite me. Now I'll have to get you out of the tangle as best I can. +You can't do it yourself, and Garth will hang on to you for the same +motive you had—spite, if nothing more. Go with me to-night. Be brave. +<i>Make</i> a scandal. Then for the sake of that mother of his—and for his +pride if he has any, if not, for the appearance of it—he'll free you."</p> + +<p>Marise was very pale. "A little while ago," she said, "you spoke of +Zélie Marks being here to give—an excuse for divorce."</p> + +<p>"Yes. That seems the likely thing. Garth probably arranged it when he +expected money from me, to make divorce worth his while. Now we've had a +row, more or less, and he knows that at best he can't get much. His cry +is 'all or nothing.' He won't use Miss Marks as a pretext."</p> + +<p>"I tell you he never intended to accept money!" insisted Marise.</p> + +<p>"That's a new opinion of yours, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I never <i>felt</i> he would touch it. But I didn't know surely. Now I do."</p> + +<p>"I wonder how?"</p> + +<p>"I do—that's all."</p> + +<p>"Well, by Jove; I never expected to hear you taking Garth's part against +me!" Tony exploded.</p> + +<p>"I'm not doing that," Marise said. "We've all been horrid and detestable +in this business, you and I, and even poor Mums—for my sake——"</p> + +<p>"What about Garth? Is he on a higher plane?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he <i>is</i>!" exclaimed the girl. "He loved me once. He wanted to +marry me then—just for love. How he felt afterwards—or how he feels +now—I don't know. But—he's not a <i>beast</i>."</p> + +<p>"And I am?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I put myself and Mums in the same box with you. I'm saying nothing +of you I don't say of ourselves."</p> + +<p>"Well, so be it!" said Severance. "I'm a beast, if you like, and you're +the female of my kind. All the more reason why you belong to me. Nothing +shall separate us again. Even if we can't marry——"</p> + +<p>"Let me go out of this room!" the girl cried sharply.</p> + +<p>"No! Your <i>mother</i> approved of my plan, I tell you, Marise. She saw it +was the only way, for me to take you——"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it! There's not an unconventional drop of blood in +Mums' veins. If she wanted me to be 'taken' anywhere, it would be to +her. She would have come to this hotel, and received me. Then, perhaps, +I would have stayed—but not for you. I don't <i>love</i> you, Tony! I've +discovered that. I wouldn't marry you if I could."</p> + +<p>"You're out of your senses!" he cried. "You may think what you say at +this minute, because you're angry. But your <i>heart's</i> mine. I won't let +you go——"</p> + +<p>"If you don't, I'll scream," threatened Marise. "Open that door at once, +or I'll yell at the top of my lungs."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you will," said Severance. "You don't like scenes, except +on the stage. Besides, I don't care a damn if you do yell. It won't +change things in the end."</p> + +<p>The girl's answer was to lift her voice and shriek as only a trained +actress can shriek.</p> + +<p>Instantly, before she had reached her highest note, Garth stepped over +the low window-sill.</p> + +<p>"I was waiting for that," he said. "I knew you were here, Marise, so I +lurked on the loggia. Unlock that door, Severance."</p> + +<p>The other man was olive grey with rage and disappointment. It occurred +to Marise that he looked seasick.</p> + +<p>"Unlock the damned thing yourself!" he spat, and flung the key on the +floor.</p> + +<p>It landed near Garth's feet. But Garth did not stoop.</p> + +<p>"Pick up the key," he said quietly.</p> + +<p>"I'm damned if I will!" sputtered Severance.</p> + +<p>"Not so many damns, please," said Garth. "They bore me." He took a +Browning from his pocket and aimed it neatly at the centre of +Severance's forehead. "Better pick up the key," he added.</p> + +<p>Severance picked it up.</p> + +<p>"Now unlock the door."</p> + +<p>Severance unlocked it, and walked out into the hall. Then he slammed the +door after him. Voices were heard.</p> + +<p>"Somebody's come to inquire why somebody screamed," said Garth, +pocketing the weapon again. "If they knock here, it's all right. Mr. and +Mrs. Garth have a right to a <i>tête-à-tête</i> anywhere. I'll say you +thought you saw a mouse. That'll settle their doubts forever."</p> + +<p>But nobody knocked.</p> + +<p>"Don't be afraid," Garth went on. "Even if you came in here because you +wanted to come, I shan't make a row. But somehow I've got a 'hunch' that +you didn't want to."</p> + +<p>"I didn't," said Marise.</p> + +<p>"He pulled you in?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. I didn't think much of it at first. But——"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't believe he'll trouble you again. Not ever. I felt he +might make a fool of himself to-night, though. So I came over, in case I +should be needed. Now, what do you want to do—I mean, <i>really</i> want? I +consider Severance wiped off the map—<i>your</i> map. So if you wish to be +free of me, I'll make you so. While Severance was in the offing I'd have +stuck to you like a leech, because you're too good for him. That +Browning wasn't loaded. But I'd have killed the fellow sooner than give +you up to him. It's different now. I'll take you to Los Angeles, to your +mother at Bell Towers to-night if you like."</p> + +<p>Marise was silent.</p> + +<p>"You've only got to say," he prompted her.</p> + +<p>To his intense surprise and her own, Marise began to cry. Tears poured +down her cheeks. She flung herself on a sofa and sobbed. "I'm so—so +unhappy!"</p> + +<p>Garth's face grew slowly red as he looked at her. "I'm sorry for that," +he said. "Once I was willing you should be unhappy. I'm past that now. +But you needn't be unhappy long. You don't even have to spend another +night in Vision House. Your mother——"</p> + +<p>"You want me to go," gulped Marise. "You really love Zélie Marks——"</p> + +<p>"You're talking in your hat," he sharply cut her short. "You know I +don't love Zélie Marks. What Severance said about her and me to-day was +disgusting. She and I are friends. She's a good girl and a grand pal. I +wouldn't hurt her even for you. And I tell you this, Marise, now that I +know—for I do know!—that you won't marry that cad Severance, you can +divorce me. But it will have to be done decently. You can go to Reno and +live there for a few months with Mrs. Sorel. Then you can free yourself +on the grounds that our tempers are incompatible. But no woman's to be +lugged in, even a stranger. I won't stand for that. For the sake of +Mothereen and my Victoria Cross I won't be dragged in the dirt. I'll not +give you what the lawyers call 'cause.' So there you are. Now you know."</p> + +<p>But Marise still sobbed. "I don't—don't wish to drag anyone in the +dust!" she wailed.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you don't," said Garth, in an impersonal tone, a tone of kind +encouragement. "You've changed quite a lot since New York, though the +time's been short. You can't measure these things by time! I <i>hoped</i> +you'd change. You were an adorable girl, but I told you once that you +were spoiled and selfish, and you were—all of that. You weren't a +woman. Now you are. I counted a bit on the effect of Mothereen. And I +counted a whole lot on the Canyon. They're both worked their spells more +or less, I shouldn't wonder. But you haven't changed to <i>me</i>. Not that I +ever really dared expect that. But I sort of <i>hoped</i>—at first. I'm not +blaming you, though. I took the risk—and let you take it. Now for the +next thing."</p> + +<p>"Now for—the next thing!" repeated Marise, between sobs; and searched +wildly in her gold-mesh bag. "For Heaven's sake lend me a handkerchief," +she wept.</p> + +<p>Garth lent it, a linen one, not scented as Severance's handkerchief +would have been, but fresh and clean-smelling.</p> + +<p>"We're still in that cad's room," Garth said, looking round with a +frown. "But he won't bother us. And we'd better thrash things out, now +we're about it. We must decide where you're to go. You know, Marise, I'm +on long leave. I never quite made up my mind whether to go back to my +regiment, or chuck the army for good, and stay over here. I thought some +day I'd hear a clear call, one way or the other, while there was time to +decide. And I knew Mothereen wouldn't long be far off from me, whatever +I did. But now I leave it to you to settle the matter for me. I expect I +owe you that, for all my sulkiness. If you want to live over on this +side, I'll go back to England—my father's country. If you'd like to +take up your career there again, rather than you should risk running up +against me all the time, I'll resign my commission—as Severance and a +lot of fellows like him hoped they could make me do!—settle down in +Arizona and—forget the war."</p> + +<p>"Forget me, you mean!" said Marise.</p> + +<p>His tone changed, and he spoke in a lower voice. "I don't expect ever to +forget you, Marise."</p> + +<p>"But you'd like to!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not so sure of that, in spite of all."</p> + +<p>"You will be, when you marry Zélie Marks."</p> + +<p>"Zélie Marks again!"</p> + +<p>"Or somebody else."</p> + +<p>"I shall never marry, Marise. That's as certain as that I'm alive. I +haven't any love to give another woman after you. You had it every bit. +But that's not an interesting subject to you, is it? Can you make up +your mind to-night and answer my question? Shall it be England for you +and America for me, or—<i>vice versa</i>?"</p> + +<p>"You <i>liked</i> the army, didn't you? You didn't want to give it up."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't going to be driven out by Severance and Co. I shouldn't mind +so much going of my own accord."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like to stay in the Guards for some years anyhow, and reap +the reward of what you've done?—coming over here to Vision House now +and then on leave, till you're ready to rest and settle down for good?"</p> + +<p>"Sounds pretty ideal, as you put it. But I'll be content enough either +way. It's for you to decide for me, as things stand. But oh, by the by, +I forgot! I'm really rather a rich man, Marise. I've made my fortune +three times over, and I've got umpteen thousands more than I need for +myself or Mothereen. I want you to have alimony——"</p> + +<p>"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I'm rich too—quite rich, enough."</p> + +<p>"But I <i>wish</i> you to take something of mine, don't you understand? And +money's the only thing I have that you could possibly care to have."</p> + +<p>Marise began to cry again, twice as hard as before.</p> + +<p>"There is—something else of yours I'd care to have," she choked, +"if—if it isn't too late."</p> + +<p>"It's never too late."</p> + +<p>"But you don't know what I mean."</p> + +<p>"No. Not yet——"</p> + +<p>"I mean—your <i>love</i>. You said—I'd killed it."</p> + +<p>Garth took one step from the middle of the little sitting-room to the +sofa, and sat down beside the girl. He crowded her as Severance had done +that afternoon, but she didn't move an inch.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say that!" He spoke the words in her hair—that silky hair +which had seemed too divine to touch. "I asked you how much you thought +it took to kill love. But nothing could kill mine for you. Nothing on +earth or in hell. And I <i>have</i> been in hell, Marise."</p> + +<p>"Come to heaven with me, then," she whispered, and clasped his neck with +both her young arms. Her cheek, wet with tears, was pressed against his.</p> + +<p>"You—<i>mean</i> it?" he stammered.</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes. I <i>love</i> you! Because—you're so <i>queer</i>, you made me, +somehow. I know now I never really loved anyone but you. And I never +will if—you <i>care</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Care? I'm in heaven already." He framed her face in his hands and +kissed her on the lips, a long, long kiss that made up for everything.</p> + +<p>"In heaven?" she murmured. "So am I. But it will be better at Vision +House. <i>Dear</i> Vision House. Dear <i>home</i>!"</p> + +<p>Garth sprang up, bringing her with him, his arm round her waist.</p> + +<p>"Let's go now!" he said.</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Vision House, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. 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Williamson + A. M. Williamson + +Release Date: January 11, 2011 [EBook #34919] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VISION HOUSE *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + + + + VISION HOUSE + + By C. N. & A. M. WILLIAMSON + +Author of "_The Lion's Mouse_," "_The Second Latchkey_," +"_Everyman's Land_," etc. + + + A. L. BURT COMPANY + + Publishers New York + + Published by arrangement with George H. Doran Company + + COPYRIGHT, 1921, + + BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY + + PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA + + TO + THE GRAND CANYON + AND ARIZONA + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I ENTER MISS SOREL + +II EXIT THE BLIGHTER + +III A CABIN WINDOW + +IV REPRISALS--ET CETERA + +V ANONYMOUS + +VI ON SUNDAY AT THREE + +VII SAMSON AGONISTES + +VIII WHAT THE STAR SAID + +IX SOMETHING OUT OF ANCIENT ROME + +X THE THING SHE COULD NOT EXPLAIN + +XI EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE + +XII "HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT, TOO!" + +XIII "CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?" + +XIV MARISE PUTS ON BLACK + +XV THE CHURCH DOOR + +XVI FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE + +XVII THE SPEAKING-TUBE + +XVIII AU REVOIR--TILL SOMETIME! + +XIX WHY THE BARGAIN WAS OFF + +XX THE BRIDAL SUITE + +XXI KEEPING UP APPEARANCES + +XXII A SHOCK AND A SNUB OR TWO + +XXIII THE DREAM + +XXIV ACCORDING TO MUMS + +XXV "SOME DAY--SOME WAY--SOMEHOW!" + +XXVI THE END OF THE JOURNEY + +XXVII SECOND FIDDLE + +XXVIII MOTHEREEN + +XXIX THE WHITE DOVE + +XXX THE VIGIL LIGHT + +XXXI THE ALBUM + +XXXII THE BEREAVED ONE + +XXXIII THE VISITORS' BOOK + +XXXIV THE TERRACE + +XXXV STRAIGHT TALK + +XXXVI STUMBLING IN THE DARK + +XXXVII ZELIE GETS EVEN + +XXXVIII WHEN SEVERANCE THREW DOWN THE KEY + + + + + +VISION HOUSE + + + + +CHAPTER I + +ENTER MISS SOREL + + +It was the third day out from Liverpool on the way to New York, and +people were just beginning to take an interest in each other's names and +looks. + +The passenger list of the _Britannia_ was posted up close to the lift on +B deck, but the weather had not encouraged curious groups to study and +inwardly digest its items. In fact, digestion of all sorts had been +difficult. To-day, however, the huge ship had ceased to step on and +stumble over monster waves, and had slipped into a sea of silken blue. +Bad sailors and lazy ones were on deck staring at their fellows as at +unearthly creatures who had dropped on board since the vessel sailed, +miraculously like manna from heaven. The news had flown round, as news +flies in an Eastern bazaar, that there were three names of conspicuous +interest on the hitherto neglected list, and that now was the moment for +"spotting" their owners. + +Two of these should be easy to find, for their steamer chairs, plainly +labelled, stood side by side on A deck, where everyone sat or was +supposed to sit. The sea dogs and dogesses who braved all weathers had +nosed out those labels, but had so far watched in vain for the chairs to +be occupied. They had observed, also, that corresponding places at the +captain's table were vacant. There were three chairs together on deck, +and in the dining-saloon, but the third did not count with the public. +It was that of a mere chaperon--The Girl's mother. She was not the third +of the Three Thrilling Passengers. That person happened to be a man, and +he had neither chair nor label. If he had eaten a meal outside his cabin +he had somehow passed unrecognised. + +The stewards, questioned, said that John Garth had not applied for a +seat at table. Yes, certainly, one had been assigned to him, next Mrs. +Sorel, she being in the place of honour on the right of the +_Britannia's_ captain. In this position Garth would have faced Lord +Severance, and sat diagonally opposite Miss Sorel, who was on the +captain's left. But the favoured man had ignored his privilege. It was +understood that he preferred snatching vague sandwiches and glasses of +beer at odd hours in the smoking-room, or on deck; therefore it would be +hard to identify him. Meanwhile, however, celebrity seekers gathered +near those three chairs on the sunny port side of A deck. + +By ten o'clock the crowd had thickened; but it was not till close on +eleven that a tall figure in uniform, preceded by a steward with rugs, +sat down in the chair ticketed "Major the Earl of Severance." + +Many Americans were on board, homeward bound after months of Red Cross +and other war work, and they knew in their hearts, no doubt, that +titles, once valued by snobs, were absolutely out-of-date in this +newly-democratised world. Nevertheless, they threw glances at Lord +Severance. Their glances would not have been wasted on a mere every-day +male. Of course, their excuse might have been that they'd prefer +glancing at their own American Johnny Garth, who was as much a major as +Lord Severance, and, being a V.C. (the one and only American V.C.), +twice as much a man for them. + +But then Garth wasn't in sight, and Severance was. Besides, the chair +between Lord Severance's and Mrs. Sorel's was ticketed "Miss Marise +Sorel." Nobody could deny that Miss Sorel was worth flocking to gaze at, +had Severance not existed. + +Thousands, hundred of thousands, of men and women paid good money to +gaze at her in theatres. Here she could be seen free of charge. But was +she coming out? the deck pilgrims wondered. And Lord Severance had an +air of wondering, too. He held a book in his hand; but his eyes were +often on the nearest door. + +They were strikingly fine eyes, and Lord Severance was in appearance a +striking man. "Stunning" was an adjective used by some American +promenaders. They remarked, too, that he "wasn't a typical Englishman. +You'd think he was Spanish or something." + +He was not Spanish, but half of him was not English; the "something" was +Greek. His mother had been a Greek heiress and beauty, but her money and +looks had been lost before she died. Most valuable things were lost +after they had been in the Severance family for any length of time. The +beautiful Greek woman's handsome son had pale olive skin, a straight +nose, full red lips under a miniature moustache like two inked +finger-prints, raven hair sleekly brushed straight back from his square +forehead, and immense eyes of unfathomable blackness. + +He was going to "the States" on some military mission, no one knew quite +what, and so, although the war had finished months ago, he was still in +uniform, with the "brass hat" of a staff officer, and the gorgeous +grey-lavender overcoat of the Guards. It seemed as if nobody could help +admiring him, and nobody did help it, except a great, hulking chap in +abominable clothes, with a khaki-coloured handkerchief round his neck +instead of a collar. This beast--in a sat-on-looking cap, enough to +disgrace a commercial traveller, sleeves as much too short for his +red-brown wrists as were the trousers for his strapping ankles--strode +to and fro along the deck as if for a wager. It was almost as if he +flaunted himself in defiance of someone or something. Yet he didn't +appear self-conscious. He had in his yellow-grey eyes that +bored-with-humanity look of a lion in a zoo, who gazes past crowds to +the one vision he desires--the desert. Only, now and then as he passed +the chair of Lord Severance, his look came back for an instant from the +desert, or waste of waves, to shoot scorn at a pair of well-shod feet +crossed on a black fur rug. This would hardly indicate any emotion +higher than jealousy, it seemed, as the boots of Major Lord Severance +were perfect, and his own were vile. + +When Severance had restlessly occupied his chair for fifteen minutes he +suddenly sprang up. A maid, unmistakably French, was squeezing a load of +rugs through a doorway. Severance ignored the offered service of a deck +steward, as if the rugs were too sacred for human hands to touch. With a +kind smile he himself helped the woman in black to spread the soft, +furry folds over the two neighbouring chairs. + +"It's like a scene on the stage in a play written for her," said one +American Red Cross nurse to another. "The hero of the piece and the maid +working up the woman star's entrance." + +"Which is he, more like hero or villain?" the second nurse reflected +aloud. "If I wrote him into a play, he'd be the villain--that dark type +with red lips and a little black moustache. But the Sorel's a star all +right. We ought to tune up and whistle a bar of entrance music! See how +the French maid puts the brown rug on one chair and the blue rugs on the +other. What'll you bet Sorel and her mother aren't dressed one in blue +and one in brown? Gee! The biggest blue rug's lined with chinchilla. Can +you beat it?" + +Neither nurse could beat it, but the approaching vision could. She beat +it with a long cloak of even more silvery chinchilla. + +At the door she stood aside for an older, shorter, plumper woman to +pass, she herself being very tall and exquisitely slender. She did not +seem to look at anyone, or be aware that anyone looked at her. +Nevertheless, all eyes were focussed upon the standing figure in the +chinchilla coat and blue toque while the lady in brown and sables was +being seated. Even Lord Severance had eyes only for the girl as he lent +his hands to her maid to tuck in the brown rugs. But the girl's smile +was for her mother, and it was not till Mrs. Sorel was settled that she +moved. A charming little scene of daughterly devotion, worthy a +paragraph if there were a journalist in sight! + +Just as Severance, with an air of absorption, wrapped Miss Sorel's grey +suede shoes in her chinchilla-lined rug, the giant in the ghastly +clothes hurled himself past. The girl did not lift her lashes, so famous +for their length and curl. She was hanging a gold-mesh bag on the arm of +her chair. You would say that she had not noticed the fellow. But the +fellow had noticed her. + +The distant-desert look died. In his eyes a flame lit, and flashed at +the girl in the chair. It was a light that literally spoke. It said +"God! You're a beauty." Then he flung one of his glances at Severance, +scornful or jealous as before. To do this he had not actually paused, +yet it was as if something had happened. Whatever the thing was, +Severance resented it in hot silence; and, in turn, his eyes did deadly +work. They stabbed the broad back of the badly-cut, badly-fitting coat +as its wearer forged away, hands deep in pockets. + +Miss Sorel sat between her mother and Lord Severance. She glanced at the +former as if to begin a conversation, but Mrs. Sorel had opened her +lorgnettes and a novel. The girl knew the signal: "Don't talk to me. +Talk to him." But she was lazy in obeying. She felt so sure of +Severance, that she needn't try to hold him by any tricks. She might now +treat him as she chose. Not that she had ever let him see that she was +anxious to please. But there _had_ been an anxious time. The girl didn't +want to talk, so she sat deliciously still, deliciously happy. She was +thinking. The restful peace of the sea after stormy days made her think +of herself. + +She often thought of herself; more, indeed, than of any other subject, +because, like most beautiful young actresses, she had been encouraged to +form the habit. But this was special--extra special. + +The girl was so content with her world that she shut herself in with it +by shutting her eyes. Then she faintly smiled in order that (just in +case they happened to look) people shouldn't suppose she was seasick. + +How odd that it should be her mother's lorgnettes which had reminded her +suddenly of her own good luck--the lorgnettes, and the delicate ringed +fingers grasping the tortoiseshell handle! + +Once that little hand had not been so white. There had been no leisure +for manicuring nails, and polishing them to the sheen of pink coral. +There had been no rings--no lorgnettes monogramed with rose diamonds. +That was before the "Marise" days; before clever Mums had linked +together in the French way her daughter's name of Mary Louise (after +father and mother) and begun training the girl into superlative beauty +and grace for the stage. Oh yes, Marise owed a lot to ambitious little +Mums! But at last she had been able to make generous payment for all the +trouble, all the sacrifices. She, Marise, had bought the lorgnettes, and +the sables, and the antique rings which Mums told everyone were +heirlooms in the Sorel family, bequeathed to a great-grandfather of +"poor dear Louis by a Countess Sorel beheaded in the Revolution." She, +Marise, had easily earned money for all the other lovely things they +both possessed. + +It was like a dream to remember how, three years ago, she had been just +a pretty "actorine" among other "actorines" in New York, struggling for +a chance to "show what she could really do," her heart jumping like a +fish at the sight of a Big Manager. Why, hadn't she literally squeaked +with joy when she got a contract for "fifty per"? And hadn't she soon +after nearly fallen dead when Dunstan Belloc let her understudy Elsa +Fortescue in "The Spring Song"? + +Of course, even at that time, she and Mums had both been sure she was +born to play "Dolores," and that Elsa _wasn't_. Belloc hadn't been so +sure. He had given her the part only because she looked irresistible +when she begged for it. Oh, and perhaps a little because her dead +father, Louis Sorel, had been an old friend of his. Marise had had to +"make good," and she had made good. + +Not that the girl had wished harm to Elsa Fortescue. But Elsa was a "Has +Been," whereas "Dolores" was supposed to be in the springtime of youth, +and possessed of an annihilating beauty--the beauty which draws men as +the moon draws the sea. Marise didn't think it conceited to face facts, +and admit that this description fitted her like a glove. These gifts had +brought her sensational success in a single night, whereas the piece had +simply "flivvered" with Elsa as star. The critics had been cold if not +cruel, and grief mixed with _grippe_ laid Elsa low. Then little Marise +Sorel (only figuratively "little," she being one of those willowy, +long-limbed nymphs who are the models and manikins of the moment), +"little Marise," in whom author and manager felt scant faith, had saved +the play and made herself. Both had boomed for a wonderful year, and at +the end of that time England had called for "Dolores" and "The Song." + +Oh, and those two years in London that followed! Never could another +girl have known anything like them since the days of the great +professional beauties whom crowds had mobbed in Hyde Park. Papers and +people had praised Miss Sorel's looks, her voice, and her talent. It was +thought quite amazing that a girl so lovely should take the trouble to +act well, but Marise explained to interviewers that she couldn't help +acting. It was in her blood to act--her father's blood. She didn't add +that ambition was in her mother's blood, and that Mums was doing all she +could to hand it on to the next generation. It wasn't necessary to +mention ambition to the public. Some people considered ambition more a +vice than a virtue. But Marise, who knew what poor Mums's past had been, +understood the passion and even felt the thrill of it. Not only had she +had the "time of her life" in those two years, but she had met people +whom she couldn't have approached before her blossoming as "Dolores" in +"The Spring Song." As "Dolores" she had been spoiled, feted, adored; and +she had become rich. + +Now, here she was on the way back to dear New York to revive the play, +which Belloc, as manager, and Sheridan, as author, expected to surpass +its first success. At present Miss Sorel had the valued cachet of a +London triumph added to her charms. She was more _chic_, she could act +and sing better, than before. Isadora Duncan had coached her for the +dance in the last scene, as an act of generous friendship, and this had +given "The Song" a new fillip in London. It would be the same in New +York. + +As if this were not enough to satisfy an older "star" than she, there +was the wonderful way in which the affair of Tony Severance had +developed. He had strained every nerve to sail with her on the +_Britannia_. Heaven alone knew how he'd obtained or invented the +"mission" which had made his plan possible. It was entirely for her +sake, and everyone was coupling their names--in a nice, proper way, of +course. She was that kind of girl. And Mums was that kind of mother. +Even before Severance had come into the title, he had been splendidly +worth while on account of his looks, his position, and his "set," but +now it seemed to Marise that every unmarried woman in England and +America must be envying her. + +As she sipped the honey of these thoughts, the girl felt that Severance +was staring at her eyelashes, and willing her to lift them. But she +would not, just yet. She went on with her thinking. She asked herself if +her feeling for him were love? Of course, it wasn't the "Dolores" sort +of love for "David Hardcastle," but love like that was safer on the +stage than off. Marise admired Tony, and was very proud of her conquest, +though she would admit that to no one except Mums. She had been horribly +afraid, humiliatingly afraid for a few days, that he might change his +mind if not his heart, when the earldom fell into his hands like a +prize-package. If she'd not been sure before that Tony was the one man +for her, she was frantically sure after the great surprise, when he was +safely on board the _Britannia_. How pleased the cats would have been if +she'd lost him--the cats who pretended to think, in the days before he +was Lord Severance, that the honesty of his intentions depended upon her +money. + +They would see now--hateful, jealous things! For, as the Earl of +Severance, though not rich, Tony would be no longer poor, and he had +proved by sailing with her that life without Marise Sorel was worthless +to him. + +The cats would be sorry when she was the Countess of Severance, for +every nasty word they'd said. She would forgive, but she would never be +nice to them, of course. She would ask the creatures only to big, dull +parties, just to let them see what a _grande dame_ little Marise had +become. And even if she weren't certain that she'd rather be a Countess +than a stage star, Mums was certain for her--poor Mums, who had always +yearned to be at the top! And it would really be nice to "belong" among +the great people who had played with her for a while and made her their +pet. + +Marise opened her eyes. She did not, however, turn them to Severance. +She gazed at the one ring which adorned her left hand. She never wore +more than one ring at a time. This, and having all her jewels match each +other, her dress and her mood, was a fad of hers. Celine helped her +carry it out. But if Severance gave her a diamond, that would match +nothing, and spoil the scheme. + +"You have the longest lashes of any woman in the world," he remarked. + +"One would think you'd seen them all--all the women and all the +eyelashes!" She looked at him at last, and her soft, smoke-blue eyes +were the colour of her sapphire brooch and chain. + +"I've seen my share of fair ladies." + +"So I've heard." + +"You've probably heard a good deal that isn't true." Severance glanced +at Mrs. Sorel, or at what he could see of her, which was mostly book, +lorgnettes, and hand. She seemed absorbed. He leaned towards Marise. + +"The last three days have been a hundred years long," he murmured. + +"Why? Have you been seasick, poor boy?" + +"No!" (This was a slight deviation from the truth.) "I've been beastly +dull without you." + +"If you're such a good sailor, couldn't you walk, and read, and----" + +"I couldn't be bothered doing anything intelligent. I moped in my +cabin." ("Moped" was one word for what he had done.) "I----" + +"Oh, here comes Samson again!" Marise broke in. "Isn't that absolutely +the name for him? It jumped into my head when he passed before and gave +me that wild sort of look--did you notice?" + +"I did," said Severance drily. "I thought you didn't. Your eyes were +apparently glued to your gold bag." + +"What's the good of being an actress if you can't see two things at +once, especially if one of them's the biggest thing on the ship? Nobody +could help noticing that--any more than if Mont Blanc suddenly waltzed +down stage from off the back drop." + +"Waltzed? 'Galumped' is the word in this case." + +"Oh, do you think so?" Marise appealed. "He walks like a man used to +wide, free spaces." + +"Like a farmer, you mean. To my mind, that's his part: Hodge--not +Samson." + +"I've forgotten what Samson was, I'm ashamed to say, before he played +opposite Delilah," confessed Marise. "I suppose he was a warrior--most +men were in those days--as now. This might be one--if it weren't for the +clothes. They certainly are the limit! But do you know, he could be very +distinguished-looking, even handsome, decently turned out?" + +"No, I don't know it, my child." Severance beat down his irritation. +"The only way I can picture that ugly blighter being decently 'turned +out,' is out of a respectable club." + +"You talk as if you had a grudge against my provincial Samson," laughed +Marise, whose blue eyes had followed the "blighter" along the deck to +the point of disappearance. + +"I don't want to talk about him at all," protested Severance. "I want to +talk about you." + +"We're always talking about me!" smiled Marise, who was honestly not +aware how she enjoyed talking about herself, or how soon she tired of +most other subjects. "If you won't talk of one man, let's talk of +another! For instance, have you seen our V.C. passenger?" + +Severance flushed slightly. "Didn't I tell you, angel girl, that I've +been in my cabin the whole time?" + +"You didn't say the 'whole' time. And anyhow, there's such a crowd on +board, they might have stuck a fellow-soldier in with you at the last +moment. Didn't they warn you that they couldn't promise a cabin to +yourself? Naturally they'd have chosen a V.C. as the least insupportable +person." + +"Several V.C.'s I've met have been most insupportable persons," grumbled +Severance. + +Something in his tone made the girl suddenly face him with wide-open +eyes. She saw the dusky stain of red under the olive skin, and the +drawing down of the black brows. "Why, Tony, how stupid of me not to +remember before!" she exclaimed. + +There! It had come--the thing that was bound to come sooner or later. +Severance, rawly sensitive on this subject which the girl refused to +drop, had wanted it to be later. + +For the first time he thought that Marise Sorel was more obstinate than +a beautiful young woman ought to be. In a man he would call such +persistence mulish. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +EXIT THE BLIGHTER + + +"Stupid not to remember what?" Severance still temporised, though he +knew the answer. + +"Not to remember that man named Garth, in your regiment, who was +promoted from a private to be an officer, and won the V.C. I think it +was Mums who asked you about him one day, when she'd read something in +the _Daily Mail_, and you said he was a cad. Is this by any chance the +same Garth?" + +"By evil chance, it is." + +Marise was interested. She was dramatic, and liked coincidences. Mrs. +Sorel was interested too, with that part of her mind--the principal +part--which was not reading Wells's _Joan and Peter_. It was quite easy, +for two reasons, to unhook her attention from the book. One reason was +that as a chaperon she was reading by discretion, not inclination. The +other reason was, if she had to read at all, she would secretly have +preferred a "smart society" novel. But when she read in public she +always selected a book which could be talked about intellectually. + +She knew how strong this feeling of Lord Severance against the +regimental hero had been, and she wished that Marise would show a little +tact, and not vex him. He had not proposed yet! + +But Marise went on. "How quaint that your Major Garth should be on board +our ship!" + +"For Heaven's sake, don't call him my Major Garth, dear girl! I loathe +the brute." + +"But why, old thing? You might tell me why." + +"I did, at the time your mother mentioned him." + +"If you did, I've forgotten. Do tell me again. It sounds exciting." + +Mary Sorel thought that intervention would now be more useful than +detachment. + +"You two are talking so loudly, I can't read!" she sweetly reproved the +pair. "I caught the name of Garth, and the whole conversation we had +that day, about him, came back to me. We were lunching with Lord +Severance at the Carlton, and I showed him a paragraph I'd clipped from +the _Daily Mail_. I thought as it was about his regiment he might be +interested if he hadn't seen it. It was headed 'Romantic Career of a +Hero. British-born American Wins the Victoria Cross.' But he wasn't +interested, because he explained that the man was a blot on the Brigade; +very common, not a gentleman." + +"Yes, it comes back to me, too," said Marise. "But if he was a hero----" + +"That's all newspaper tosh!" cut in Severance. "They must have headings! +It's luck more than heroism that gets a chap the Victoria Cross. +Soldiers all know that. Otherwise----" + +His lips said no more. Only his eyes were eloquent. The beautiful +lavender-grey overcoat hid no ribbon-symbols of decorations on his +breast. But how can a staff officer find the chance his soul yearns for, +to show his mettle--except the metal on his expensive "brass hat"? + +"Of course!" Mrs. Sorel breathed sympathetically. + +"Garth was all right as a private, I dare say," Severance grudged. "Even +as an officer he might have passed in some regiments. But not in the +Guards. He ought never to have been let come in. And he ought certainly +not to have stayed in, knowing how we felt. If he'd had any proper +pride, he wouldn't have stopped a day." + +"Perhaps it was pride made him stick," suggested Marise, led on somehow +she hardly knew why--to defend the culprit. + +"'Proper' pride was my word," Severance reminded her. + +"Extraordinary that an American should be serving with the Guards, in +the first place!" Mary Sorel flung herself into the breach, hoping to +stop the argument. Arguments made her anxious. She thought that they led +to quarrels. And not for anything on earth would she have Marise quarrel +with Severance, the only earl who had ever shown symptoms of proposing. +It had been well enough for the girl to pique him when he was a handsome +young man about town, whose good position was counterbalanced by the +star's financial and face value. But since six weeks Severance had +become a great catch. Other girls were digging bait in case the fish +should wriggle, or be coaxed, off Marise Sorel's hook. + +"The fellow's luck again!" growled Severance. "I don't know what his job +was in his own country. I don't interest myself in the private life of +the lower classes. All I know is, he wasn't a soldier; but he had some +bee in his bonnet about a future war, and a theory that there'd be +trench fighting on a big scale. He contrived to invent and patent a +motor entrenching tool, supposed to act fifty times quicker than +anything else ever seen. Then he proceeded to experiment on his +back-woods farm, or his wild west ranch, or whatever it was. Washington +wasn't 'taking any,' however (isn't that what you say in the States?), +so Garth decided to try it on the British bulldog. Where his big stroke +of luck came in was meeting our old C.O. on board ship crossing to +England. The Colonel had been in New York with his American wife. He +probably heard the blighter brag of his invention, and that would catch +him as toasted cheese in a trap catches a hungry rat. You see, the old +boy always had a craze of his own about trench warfare, and I believe he +used to bore the W.O. stiff, roaring for some such machine as this chap +Garth invented. Naturally, Pobbles (that's what we call the C.O. behind +his back)--Lord Pobblebrook, you know--took the man up. Not socially, of +course. Garth's about on a social level with Lady Pobblebrook's +foot-man, I should think. But he got the W.O. to look at the trench +tool, and--as if that wasn't luck enough for the bounder!--the war broke +out. The W.O. bought Garth's invention, as you saw in the _Mail_, and +paid about tuppence for it, I suppose. He had a fancy to enlist in the +British Army--feared the U.S.A. would be a bit late coming in, perhaps. +I never heard of any American dropping into the Guards before, even as a +Tommy, but it must have been easy enough with a push from Pobbles, +especially as the chap's people had been English, I believe. If it +hadn't been for Pobbles, Garth would certainly not have got a +commission. Anyhow not with us." + +"Oh, you Guardsmen think you're gods!" the girl teased him. + +"Not gallery gods, in any case," Severance caught her up. "That's why we +don't want that sort in our mess and clubs. Most regiments have had to +put up with a mixture of these 'temporary gentlemen,' but not Ours. +Besides, 'temporary' and 'permanent' are different words. The +'temporary' kind can't be permanent, don't you see? For their own sakes, +they ought to step down and out when they cease to be useful, because +they never can be ornamental. We of the Brigade have a good deal to live +up to, you must admit. I assure you, I'm not the only one who hasn't +exactly encouraged Garth to wear out his welcome." + +"How about the Colonel?" Marise inquired. + +"Oh, Pobbles. He doesn't count in this scrap. He's practically never in +the mess, so the bad manners and bad boots of a cad don't interfere with +his digestion. Besides, he was responsible for landing us with the +fellow. I don't suppose he ever dreamed for a moment that a man of that +type would dare--or wish--to stay on as an officer of the regiment after +the war. But there it is! To save his own face the C.O. could hardly +give Garth the cold shoulder. Pobbles whitewashed himself by extolling +the swine as a soldier, and quoting such stuff as 'hearts are more than +coronets,' and so on." + +"Aren't they?" murmured Marise. + +"Oh, of course, in the way you mean. But not in the mess of a Guards +regiment." + +"I see," said the girl, with a blue twinkle beneath the admired lashes. +For some reason it amused her to wave a red flag, and play with the +lordly Severance as with a baited bull, under her mother's cautioning +glances. It was just a mood. Marise wasn't even sure that she did not +agree with Tony; and she was certain that Mums agreed. No lady possessed +of ancestral jewels, handed down from beheaded aristocrats, could afford +to hide the smallest coronet under the biggest bushel of hearts, in a +mess, or a drawing-room, or anywhere! Poor Mums, she was being baited, +too! But it was rather fun. And it could do no harm, since Marise +counted Tony her own forever. + +"So all of you younger officers have been doing your best to squeeze my +poor countryman out?" she ventured on. + +"Not because he's a countryman of yours. You must understand that! +Because he's impossible. And for the honour of the regiment. I'm sorry +to say, though, that we weren't unanimous in the matter. There have been +two or three--er--not rows, but something in that line, a few men +inclining to let Garth 'dree his own weird,' and learn for himself that +he's a square peg in a round hole. But Billy Ravenswood and Cecil de +Marchand and I took a firm stand." + +"I can see you taking it!" giggled Marise. "You took the firm stand on +one foot only, and kicked with the other! When you got tired of the +exercise, and had to sit down, you sat on Major Garth, V.C.--sat hard!" + +Severance laughed a little too, her giggle was so contagious. Besides, +at last, she did seem to be entering into the spirit of the game. +"Something of the sort," he admitted, not without pride in remembered +achievements. "The lot of an intruder among us isn't a happy one." + +"I should think not, if the rest are like you," said Marise. "I've seen +you perfectly horrid to quite inoffensive people you didn't happen to +approve of." + +"The person you force me to discuss, dear child, is the opposite of +inoffensive," amended Severance. "Can't we drop him?" + +"You seem to have done so successfully already," said she. "As he's on +this ship, homeward bound, the regiment is rid of him, isn't it?" + +"I'm not so sure. In fact, I'm not at all sure. He's in mufti, +certainly--to insult the good old word! But I understand he still +refuses to confess he's beaten, and is only on long leave." + +"Oh, he's in mufti! But you'll point him out, if he comes on deck, won't +you, boy? After all this talk, I pine to see what he's like. If he +passes by----" + +"Thank Heaven, he has passed by. He's gone inside, and we're rid of him +for the moment." + +"Tony, you don't mean--you can't!" + +"What?" + +"Samson?" + +"Why, yes. Didn't you realise that? Now perhaps you'll understand why we +don't want this particular Samson pulling down the pillars of our +temples." + +"He may have heard what we said! He was walking back and forth part of +the time as we talked." + +"Who cares if he did hear? It would do him good--be a douche to cool his +conceit." + +At that instant the back of Severance's head was coldly douched. +Something popped: something spurted. A jet of water sprayed over him, +fizzing with such force that it blew his gold-laced Guards' cap over his +eyes. + +Marise and her mother were petrified. They could only gasp. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A CABIN WINDOW + + +After the first dazed instant, the girl had a wild inclination to laugh. +She suppressed it with the explosive struggle of suppressing a sneeze. +Poor, dear Tony! It would be cruel to make fun of him, more cruel than +if the top of his head had been blown off! For him--especially at this +moment of his high boasting--it was tragic to be made ridiculous. But it +was funny--frightfully funny--to see his expression of stunned rage at +the accident, as he dried his face and hair with a faintly fragrant, +monogramed handkerchief, and wiped something fizzing out of his eyes. + +Of course it--whatever it was--must have been an accident. Yet it was +odd, or perhaps merely fortunate, that all the liquid had spurted over +Severance, not a drop spattering the girl's blue toque. That thought +darted through the mind of Marise, and prompted a quick turn of the +head. At the open stateroom window behind the deck chairs stood someone +whose face she could not see. In fact, the presence of this person was +indicated only by a ginger-beer bottle still pointing, pistol-like, at +Lord Severance's back. The bottle was almost empty, its contents having +been discharged in one rush, and a mere inoffensive froth now dribbled +over the window-sill. This vision told at a glance what had occurred. +The glass ball inside the mouth of the bottle had been pushed with too +great violence. But why, why, had the experiment been made at the +window? Was it the act of a stupid steward, or---- + +An answer to the question flashed into the girl's brain, and again it +was all she could do to control a shriek of laughter. (She had an +inconvenient sense of humour, inherited from Louis Sorel, and earnestly +discouraged by her mother.) What if--but no! The creature wouldn't dare. +Or would he? + +"Sorry!" said a voice. "Accident, I assure you. Hope the lady wasn't +touched." + +With this, Marise knew that the creature had dared. Though she had never +heard the "blighter" speak, she was as certain of his identity as of her +own. That, then, was his stateroom window. He had disappeared from the +deck intending to do the thing, and he had done it. From his own point +of view he had done it with deadly skill, and she was sure he knew +without asking that "the lady" had not been "touched." Of course, he had +heard what Severance said, and this was his revenge for past and present +insults. It was, no doubt, the deed of a cad, or a mischievous +schoolboy, but arriving on top of Severance's last words, thus douching +the doucher, it was so neat that it hit the girl's sense of drama as the +beer had hit the "brass hat." + +She wanted to say, "No, I wasn't touched, thank you." But Severance +would never forgive her for bandying words with the bounder. She +expected Tony to speak--to say something, if only a "Damn you!" which +would have been almost excusable even in the presence of ladies. But to +her surprise he left the disguised defiance unanswered. + +"Disgusting!" he exclaimed impersonally. "Creatures like that ought to +be caged. I'm afraid I must retire for repairs. But I'll be back in a +few minutes. You won't go away, will you?" + +"No, indeed," Mary Sorel assured him. "What a shocking shame. Poor Lord +Severance! But how much worse if it had been ale or stout! Think of the +horrid odour--and the stains on your beautiful coat!" + +"It would have been ale or stout if the ship wasn't 'dry' on account of +a few returning soldiers!" said Severance with extreme bitterness, as he +got up. "I wonder it wasn't ink. Only ink doesn't spurt." + +He crushed his wet cap over his wet hair, and went off, mumbling like +distant thunder. Behind the chairs, the beer-bottle window slid shut, +but Marise fancied she heard through the thick stained glass a wild +chortle of joy. + +Mrs. Sorel closed her book, with the lorgnettes to mark her page, and +leaned across Tony's empty chair. + +"Marise, you laughed!" she reproved her daughter. "How could you?" + +"I didn't, I only boo-higgled in my throat." + +"I wish you'd be more careful," cautioned the elder woman. "If you're +not, take it from me, you may be sorry yet. Tony is worried about +something. I noticed it the moment we came on board. You know what an +instinct I have! I feel as if--but I mustn't tell you now. He may get to +his stateroom and hear us." + +"What makes you think he could hear us from his stateroom?" asked +Marise. "Do you know where it is?" + +"Why, yes," replied the other. "I was with him when he chose the place +for our chairs. You were in our cabin showing Celine what to unpack. He +pointed out his window, and--but my goodness!" + +A gasp stopped her words. Marise followed the direction of the puzzled +or startled brown eyes. They stared at the window just closed, from +whose sill ginger-beer continued to drip. + +"Is that his room?" breathed the girl. + +"I thought that was the window, but I must be mistaken, of course. +Probably it's the next one--on my side or yours." + +Marise let the question drop. She wasn't pining to confide the contents +of her mind. Besides, her conjectures were too vague for words. In +striving to frame them she would surely laugh, and Mums would think her +a callous wretch. + +Mrs. Sorel, anxious to be overheard saying the right thing, if she were +overheard at all, began to chat about friends who had sent flowers or +telegrams on board. Each name she mentioned had a "handle." She liked +Lord Severance to be reminded casually now and then that her girl had +titled admirers outside the circle he had brought round them. But Marise +was not listening. She was putting two and two together. + +When she suggested that the V.C. had been billeted in Tony's cabin, Tony +had said neither "yes" nor "no," now she came to think of it. He had +caught at another branch of the subject which she elected to pursue. He +hadn't wanted her to know that the loathed Major Garth was his +room-mate. Why? Oh, he would feel it humiliating to his _amour propre_. +He had wished to buy a cabin for himself alone, and had been told that +it was too late: "the company would do their best, but could not +promise." Then, fate and the company's good intentions had picked out +the one companion he would least have chosen. + +It was almost too queer, and too bad, to be true; yet the more she +thought of it the truer it seemed. Her mother's impression about the +window--and the lack of surprise Severance had shown after the +"accident." Once recovered from the shock, he wore an air of having got +what might have been expected. He hadn't even looked over his wet +shoulder to glare at the sniper. Oh, Marise saw it all now! Tony had +made his last remarks for the benefit of the _bete noire_, believing he +had gone to the mutual cabin, but not dreaming how far a bounder, in +bounding, might bound for revenge. She would have given a good deal to +know whether Severance had now joined his room-mate in their quarters, +and if so, what was going on. + +In a hand-to-hand fight Severance would be apt to get second best with +Samson, unless skill should master strength. Was that why he had flung +back no challenge? But, of course, it couldn't be; Tony was not a +coward. He had merely kept his temper to save a scene. Nevertheless, she +wished that Garth hadn't shut the window! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +REPRISALS--ET CETERA + + +Jorn Garth considered himself completely justified in shooting Severance +with a pint of iced ginger-beer, and even had his conscience squirmed he +would have committed the act. Knowing that Severance thought of, and +denounced, him as "a bounder," he didn't see why, when worst came to +worst, he shouldn't live up to the reputation. + +Worst had come to worst on board the _Britannia_. Things had been bad +enough before, but the climax was reached when the two men found +themselves caged in the same room, neither one willing to play lamb to +the other's lion. Garth hated the proximity as hotly as Severance hated +it; but there was no cabin of any class with a free berth, save one +occupied by a coloured colonel in charge of negro troops going home. +Garth had a deep respect for the dark soldiers, who had distinguished +themselves in the war; but men of white and men of black skin were not +quartered together; and he had never boiled to throttle Severance as he +boiled at the cool proposal that he should join Colonel Dookey. + +"Join him yourself," he said. + +"I'm not an American," shrugged Severance. + +"That's why you and he would get along better than you and me, or he and +me," retorted Garth, careless of grammar. + +"I shall remain where I am," Severance gave his ultimatum. + +"Same here. You ought to be thankful your earlship has got the lower +berth." + +This statement required no answer; and the conversation lapsed. + +Garth had not taken his allotted seat at the Captain's table, because he +understood that ladies would be there, friends of Lord Severance. He +could not trust his temper if it were strained by continued public +snubbing in the presence of women. Besides, secretly shy of the +dangerous sex, the man who had won the V.C. shrank like a coward from +the prospect of being "turned down" by aristocratic females. He +preferred to snatch picnic meals in the hot smoke-room or to munch a +sandwich on the wind-swept deck, having this one advantage of the enemy: +he was a good sailor. + +Seeing Severance seasick had "given him back a bit of his own," and made +up for a good deal, including close quarters. Because a man can't hit a +foe when he's down, however, Garth had let slip a heaven-sent chance for +revenge. He refrained from jeering aloud at his brother officer's +qualms. But was the said officer grateful for the superhuman sacrifice? +On the contrary! To-day's work on deck was the climax. Garth had heard +and seen Severance sneering at him, as he had sneered before. Sneering +to men was one thing, however; sneering to the most beautiful girl Garth +had ever seen was another. + +Severance's attempt to drive Garth from the regiment by rendering the +mess impossible, and by other methods which in contrast made schoolboy +ragging kind, had only stiffened the American's resolve to "stick it." +Failing the stings and pin-pricks inflicted by Severance as ringleader, +and two or three of his followers, Garth would not have desired to stay +in the British Army after the war, although his father had been an +officer in it. As it was, though he hadn't yet settled the future, he +inclined to hold his commission for awhile, if only to "show those chaps +they couldn't phaze him." He had felt bulldoggy rather than wild +bullish. But catching a word or two blown to his ears by the wind on +deck to-day, he had at the same time caught fire. Here was the limit, +and down the other side! He burned to prove this to Severance in some +way slightly more delicate than murder. In such a mood he slammed into +their cabin, and heard a little more. Still flaming, he saw the +ginger-beer bottle (by an irony of fate, Severance's bottle), and then, +almost before he knew what he was doing, the thing was done. A caddish +but a luscious thing! He gloried in it. As he stood at the stateroom +window, the emptied weapon fizzing in his hand, it struck Garth that he +had hit the nail on the head. + +"That's it," he said to himself, as he watched Severance furiously sop +his hair. "I've hit the nail on the head!" + +Never had he been more pleased with the precision of his aim, for not a +drop had gone wide of the target. He had counted on his skill to make a +bull's-eye or he would not have risked the coup. Of course, Severance's +friends would loathe as well as despise him; but they must admit that +the reprisal was pat, and above all neat. He shut the window and roared. +He hoped the trio outside would hear him, and he yearned to know what +Severance's next step would be. + +For this knowledge he had not long to wait; but when it came, it brought +disillusion. Severance arrived promptly, still dripping, to find Garth +at bay, a grin on his face. + +"Your beer," said V.C. "I'll pay you for it." + +He expected the other to shout "You shall!" and spring at him. Severance +seemed to think, however, that the dignified course was cold silence. +"Registering" scorn too glacial for language or even action, he gazed at +Garth as if the latter were a worm of some new and abominable species +unknown to science and beneath classification. This effect produced, he +turned to the mirror and repaired ravages to his hair with "Honey and +Flowers." The moment he was his well-groomed self again, he went out, +having uttered not one word. + +"Well, I'm damned!" remarked Garth aloud. He then laughed, also aloud. +But there was a flat sound in his mirth. He felt like a good hot fire +quenched by a shovelful of snow, and was not sure whether he or +Severance had scored. Vaguely at a loss, like a stray dog, he took a +book to the smoking room, having no ambition to parade the deck +cock-o'-the-walk fashion. It turned out, however, that he could not +read. He could do nothing but think of that girl--that beautiful, +beautiful girl. + +Every man grows up with some ideal, bright or dim, of the woman whose +beauty might mean to him all romance: the woman of the horizon, of the +sunrise, of the bright foam of sea-waves. The girl on A deck of the +_Britannia_ was Garth's ideal, his "Princess of Paradise." + +He didn't know who she was, but he meant to know. Not that it would do +him any good to find out. She was a friend of Severance, which meant +that there was a high wall round her so far as he, Garth, was concerned. +All the same, he wouldn't let much grass grow--or many waves +break--under his feet before he was in possession of her name. This was +about all he was ever likely to have of hers! But so much he would have, +soon. + +Presently a steward brought matches for his pipe. "Can you tell me," +Garth inquired, "who are the ladies sitting amidships on the port side +of this deck; a young lady in a blue hat, with a grey fur coat, and an +older woman in brown? They look as they'd be someone in particular?" + +"They are, sir," replied the man quite eagerly. "You must mean Miss +Sorel and her mother; they're with the Earl of Severance." + +"That's right," said Garth. "I wonder, are they the ones at the +Captain's table." + +"Certain to be, sir," the steward assured him. + +Garth lit his pipe, and let the steward go without further questioning. +He yearned to ask who the Sorels were, and why it was so certain they +would be in the place of honour at the Captain's table--where he might +have been, and was not! But somehow, the thought of pumping a steward +for intimate details about that girl repelled him. He supposed she was +"some swell" in Severance's set. Not since he had enlisted in the +Grenadier Guards, nearly five years ago, had he taken leave in London. +He had been eight times a "casualty," but by luck, or ill-luck, his +wounds had not been "Blighty-wounds." His last leave he had spent in +Paris, and the second--one summer--in Yorkshire and Scotland, because +his father had been a Yorkshireman by birth. + +If Garth had ever heard of Marise Sorel's success in New York and +London, the story had gone in at one ear and out at the other. It did +not occur to him that the Radiant Dream might be an actress. But her +face haunted him, got between his eyes and his book and made his pipe go +out, as sunlight is supposed to extinguish a fire. + +He had rather prided himself on these old clothes of his, on shipboard. +They were full five years of age, had been bought ready-made at +Albuquerque, Arizona, for twenty dollars, and were damned comfortable. +Now, to his shamed surprise, he found himself wishing he had kept to +khaki, as he had a right to do. Severance had called him a +"clod-hopper," and he knew the word fitted him in that suit, a blamed +sight better than did the suit itself! + +Well, it wasn't too late yet. He could doll up in his uniform any +minute; he could even claim his place at the Captain's table, and meet +the Girl. His heart beat at the thought. He made up his mind he would do +just that; and then as quickly he changed it. + +No, he might be a bounder, but he wouldn't be a cross between an ass and +a peacock. He'd go on as he'd begun. If there were a laugh anywhere at +present, it was against Severance. He would do nothing to turn it +against Garth. + +This resolution he clung to, despite occasional wobblings, for the rest +of the voyage. + + * * * * * + +Garth had not a "blood relation" on earth, as far as he knew; but he had +an adopted mother, and he had friends. These people lived mostly in the +West. He meant to see a little life in New York before going out there, +but he did not expect a soul in the east to notice his existence. It was +a surprise for him when all the reporters who swarmed on board the +_Britannia_ from the tender made a bee-line for Major Garth, V.C. Each +wanted a "story," and Garth didn't know what to say. He was too glad to +see the shores of his adopted land, and too good-natured to snub the +humblest, but he didn't enjoy being interviewed. He got out of the +scrape as soon as he could; but there was another surprise awaiting him +on deck. He found himself a hero to the Custom House men! + +There was no chance of finding out what had become of Miss Sorel, but as +the reporters had rallied round her, and Lord Severance also, Garth was +reasonably sure to read later on who the girl was; where she was going; +whether or no she were engaged to his noble brother officer; and, +indeed, even many more picturesque facts than she knew about herself. + +It was after two o'clock when he arrived at the Hotel Belmore, where he +had stayed five years ago on the eve of sailing for England with his +invention. He was hungry, and aimed straight for the restaurant; but it +appeared that the manager had assigned to the only American V.C. a suite +with a private salon as well as bedroom and bath. A special luncheon for +the Major would be served there, with the compliments of the directors. +Garth could only accept with dazed thanks; and feeling like a +newly-awakened "Christopher Sly," he entered a room decorated with +flowers and flags. As he devoured delicious food, the New York evening +papers were handed to him by a smiling waiter who had read the headings. + +Yes, there he was, served up hot to the public with sauce piquante! Lord +knew how the fellows had got his photograph! Must be from some snapshot +caught by a _Daily Mirror_ man in London, and sent over to New York for +use to-day. What a great lout he looked!... And--gee! if there wasn't +old Severance in another photo down under his. Wouldn't his earlship be +wild? + +Garth chuckled, and then suddenly choked. A gulp of the champagne, in +which he'd been pressed to drink to his own health, had gone the wrong +way. _Her_ picture had caught his eye, in an adjoining column of the +_Evening World_, next to the portrait of Severance. "Our Own Marise +Comes Home," was the legend in big black type above. Oh! She was +American, not English! Must be an heiress if that chap intended to marry +her. Severance was supposed to be poor, for a peer; had been a pauper +till the death of an uncle and three cousins in the war gave him the +title.... What? an actress! Then, it wasn't true about her and +Severance--couldn't be true! That glorious girl was free! And, to judge +from the way New York was treating him, John Garth, V.C., was Somebody, +too. He was put above Miss Sorel's pal Severance in the papers--every +one of the papers! + +Eagerly Garth read about "The Spring Song" and "Dolores," the great +emotional part Marise Sorel had created, and was now to revive in New +York. It did not directly interest him that the whole of the old cast +would support the star, but it did matter that this fact reduced the +need for rehearsals to a minimum. The play would open at Belloc's +Theatre next week, and it was announced that for many days the house had +been entirely sold out. There wasn't a seat to be had for love or money. +"But I bet I get one for both!" Garth said to himself. "A seat for every +performance." Also he thought of something else he would do. The thing +might not help him to make Miss Sorel's acquaintance, but it would +satisfy his soul. And it would be worth all his back pay as a British +officer if he could carry out the plan. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +ANONYMOUS + + +"Oh, Mums, I'm so happy!" purred Marise, as she sank into a chair, +physically spent, spiritually elated. + +It was in her dressing-room at the theatre--the marvellous dressing-room +which Belloc had engaged Herte to re-decorate as a tribute and a +surprise to the star. The stage curtain had rung down on the last act, +after eighteen recalls and a little laughing, hysterical speech from +Dolores. Sheridan and Belloc had both kissed her; and everyone had +cried, and her mother had torn her from clinging arms, to shut the +dressing-room door upon a dozen faces. + +Sudden peace followed clamour. There was not a sound. The air was sweet +with the breath of a thousand flowers. Celine moved softly about, with +stolid face. Mrs. Sorel beamed. + +"Well, yes, dear; I do think you may be happy now," she vouchsafed. + +Marise caught the "second meaning"--the little more than met the +ear--hiding in her mother's words. Mums hadn't been easy about +Severance. She'd thought he had "something on his mind." She had even +been afraid that, although he was following the girl he loved from +London to New York, he didn't mean marriage. She had feared, and almost +expected, that he might break to Marise the news of his engagement to +another woman--a very different woman from the pretty actress. But that +time of Mum's depression had been on shipboard. Severance had "broken" +no news. He had been more devoted than ever before. He had curtailed his +official business in Washington, and rushed back to New York for the +first night of "The Song," so now Mrs. Sorel began to hope that for once +her "instinct" had been a deceiving Voice. + +"Yes, happy about everything," she added, so that Marise might +understand without the maid sharing her enlightenment. + +"I am, just that!" agreed Marise, stealing time to breathe before Celine +should take off Dolores' "bedroom-scene" dress. + +She looked round the room. It had been decorated by the Russian-French +artist, Herte (who had never seen her), to suit Sargent's portrait which +Belloc had lent him to study. In the girl's opinion it did not suit her +at all, unless she were in reality a tigress camouflaged to represent a +sheaf of lilies. But evidently that was what Herte thought she was, and +his conception of her temperament made the girl feel subtle and +mysterious. She adored feeling like that, and she adored Herte's tawny +orange splashes on violent blues, and his sombre blacks and dazzling +whites and lemon yellows, which somehow did not fade her sunlight +fairness. People knew about this room, for descriptions and photographs +of it had appeared in all the papers since she and Mums landed; +consequently everyone had sent flowers to match Herte's famous +colourings. + +There were silver azaleas, black tulips, queer scarlet roses, Japanese +tiger lilies, weird magenta orchids, and purple pinks. Severance had +sent blue lilies--the blue that Marise loved, and called "the colour of +her soul." The lilies had been the best of the huge collection, until +the Exciting Thing came--the thing accompanied by no letter, no card. +Towards this object the eyes of Marise travelled. She had been +"intrigued" by it the whole evening, whenever she had time to think, and +puzzle over its charm and mystery. + +"It" was a table; a small, round tea-table of rich red mahogany with a +well in its centre for flowers, and small holes in a line circling its +edge for the same purpose. These receptacles were filled and hidden with +the largest, purplest, and most fragrant violets Marise had ever seen, +and their amethyst tones, massed against the dark, rose-brown wood, +produced an exquisite effect. Marise believed herself an up-to-date +young woman, and her Persian dressing-room in London had rivalled Lily +Brayton's Chinese room during the run of "Chu Chin Chow." But she had +never heard of such a design as this in tables. It must be the newest of +the new, and invented by a great artist, she thought. In fear of seeming +ignorant, she had asked no questions of anyone, hoping to glean +information by luck: and vanity, as usual with her, had its own reward. + +"By George, who sent you Herte's latest?" Belloc had exclaimed, when he +bounced into her room before the first act to see if his star were +"going strong." + +Marise had to admit that she didn't know. But she put on an air of +awareness as to Herte. This was the sort of thing her mother taught her: +to seem innocent, but never ignorant--especially of anything "smart." +Mrs. Sorel had suggested that Herte himself might have contributed the +lovely specimen of his work, to complete the decoration of the room. +Belloc, however, had vetoed this idea. If there were no accompanying +poem, or at least a card, Herte wasn't guilty. He was not a young man +who bothered to blush unseen. So that hypothesis was "off"; and Marise +could think of no one among her acquaintances likely to spend so much +cash without getting credit. + +Belloc was giving a supper for her after the theatre, and Herte was +there; a dark, haggardly beautiful young man who looked as if he had +detached himself from one of his own wall decorations. Belloc had placed +him next the star, not knowing whether Marise were really engaged to +Lord Severance or not; and the first question the girl asked was about +the table. + +"Ah, you have my beloved violet-table!" he said, looking at her in the +way he had with beautiful young women: stripping her with his eyes and +dressing her all over again in a gown of his own creation. "I am +glad--glad." + +"You didn't know?" + +He shook his head until a black lock fell over his pale forehead. "I did +not. It was finished by the glorified cabinet-maker I employ: it +appeared in the window of my place. You must see my place, now your +rehearsals are over! You will want beauty to rest your mind--and you +will want Me to design your dresses! An hour later the table was snapped +up--gone from me forever." + +"Ah, but who snapped it?" + +Herte looked blank. "Your admiring friend, who knew it belonged, by +right of beauty, to you." + +"Thanks! But I want you to tell me his--or her--name." + +"Are you not acquainted with so much of him?" + +"I'm not. And I'm dying to be, because the gentleman is anonymous--a +great unknown!" + +"I am sure he is great, as a judge of art and ladies. But that is all I +am sure of, beautiful Dolores." + +"Monsieur Herte, you are hiding his secret!" + +"I could hide no secret from you. I will tell you all I know. A boy +messenger bought the table. A millionaire's boy messenger, perhaps! My +manager informed me what had happened. We guessed at once there was a +mystery." + +"Couldn't you find out?" Marise persisted. + +Herte shrugged his sloping shoulders. "Beyond a boy messenger no man can +go. He keeps the gate with a flaming sword. But you will find out some +day. Meanwhile, be content. You have the latest creation of my brain--of +my heart. At present it is the one thing of its kind in existence." + +Mrs. Sorel asked Severance if he had sent the table, which, she +explained, Marise had found in her dressing-room on arriving there. It +had been brought to the theatre by two boy messengers, full of flowers +(not the boys, but the table), and no word had been left whence it came. +Severance, bitterly jealous of the secret gift (which had, so to speak, +taken all the blue paint off his Persian lilies), would gladly have +claimed credit had he dared. But the real giver might announce himself +at any moment, and be able to prove his _bona fides_: so Severance made +a virtue of necessity. Belloc's supper-party was a "frost" for him, +though he sat by the second prettiest girl. He hated Herte and the +others, especially a millionaire member of New York's "Four Hundred," +who was financially interested in Belloc's schemes--and in his leading +ladies. + +Severance would have given anything--short of his title and estates, and +such money as came with them--to snatch the girl from all the men, who +would go on admiring and making love to her when he was far away. He did +not know how he could bear to turn his back and leave her to these +Americans, who had so much money and so much "cheek." He felt as if he +were throwing her to the lions--this exquisite morsel which he coveted +for himself, but was unlikely to get on the terms he could offer. +Almost, he wished that he had told her the truth in London, and said +good-bye to her then. Almost, but not quite; for he simply had not been +able to let her go like that. He had to be with her: he had to see the +sort of men she would gather round her on the other side of the world. + +Well, he had come; and he had seen; and he had made things harder for +himself instead of easier. He did not know what he should do next. An +arrangement, a compromise, must be thought of. When he spoke, he must +have something to propose--some alternative or other. But what under +heaven, or in hell, it could be, he had no clear inspiration yet. + +Marise ordered the violet-table to be taken from the theatre to the +Plaza Hotel, where she and her mother had a suite. She thought it would +give her more pleasure there, where much of her time was passed, and the +wonderful violets had not lost their freshness: they were so firm and +vital that they looked as if they would never fade. But on the second +night of "The Song," when Marise arrived in her dressing-room, another +anonymous gift awaited her. + +It was smaller than the table, but not less original; a black bowl, half +full of water bright and pale green as aquamarines, on the surface of +which floated three pink pond-lilies. The bowl stood on the star's +dressing-table, and, switching on the electric lights, a gleam as of +drowned emeralds sparkled under the lilies. Marise cried out in delight, +and ran to look for a card. This time he would reveal himself! (She knew +it was "he," and that it was the same man who had sent the table.) But +no. There was neither card nor note. Messenger boys had brought the +bowl. They had driven up in a taxi. If only Marise had dreamed of +receiving a second gift from the same source, she would have watched--or +even employed a detective. She was so excited and curious that she +feared for her acting that night. + +With the bowl and the lilies had come a large jar of crystals for +tinting the water: green, glittering lumps, like precious stones from +Aladdin's Cave, and that was precisely the label on the jar of jewels: +"Aladdin's Cave." Marise was childishly thrilled. When Belloc peeped in, +she showed her treasures, and learned that "Aladdin's Cave" was the name +chosen by a queer artist, new, but famous already for his +exhibition-shop in a cellar of that Bohemian haunt known as Greenwich +Village. + +Next morning the girl went there in a taxi: and when she had bought +exotic enamels, and transparent vases filled with synthetic sapphires, +she told "Aladdin" about the bowl. Like Herte, he shook his head. He was +but another man who "could not go beyond a District messenger boy." + +The stage door-keeper was now warned to find out what he could, if +another anonymous gift appeared. Also, Celine was sent early to the +theatre. Marise could not, however, quite bring herself to engage a +detective. She was tempted to do so, and urged by her mother, who had +visions of a mysterious millionaire ready to take the place of Severance +if the Englishman failed after all. But the girl felt that to set +sleuth-hounds on its track would kill romance. It would, she told Mums, +be like deliberately rubbing the bloom off hothouse grapes before you +ate them. And as it turned out, she was glad she had listened to +sentiment; for on the third night her only offerings were chocolates and +flowers ticketed conspicuously with their givers' names. + +This was like a too abrupt ending to a fairy tale. But, after all, it +was only the end of a chapter. On the fourth night a long +blue-and-silver box lay across two chairs in the dressing-room. It +looked like a box from a smart dressmaker, though no dressmaker's name +was visible. "Has Mademoiselle ordered anything?" Celine inquired, as +she untied the ribbon-fastenings. + +No, Mademoiselle had ordered nothing that day--at least nothing for the +theatre. She gave a little gasp as the Frenchwoman removed the box cover +and a layer of silver-stencilled blue tissue paper. Underneath filmed a +pale blue cloud which Marise snatched up and pronounced to be a "boudoir +gown." It was made from a material which fashion names mousseline de +soie one year and something else another. It was the blue of bluebells, +banded with swansdown and embroidered with silver thistles. Altogether, +it might have been created expressly for Miss Sorel by an admiring +genius. + +"From Herte!" exclaimed Mums. + +But Marise knew better, and would pit her own "instinct" against her +mother's any day. "No, from Him," she pronounced. "If this goes on much +longer without my finding out who He is, I shall simply perish." + +And it did go on: not night after night, but stopping, and beginning +again just as she thought the giver's invention exhausted or his pockets +empty. It went on for ten days, until Marise had received, in addition +to the three first gifts, an ancient Italian mirror in a carved silver +frame; an exquisite wax doll, modelled and dressed to represent herself +as "Dolores" in the third act of "The Spring Song," and an old Sevres +box filled with crystallised violets--evidently _his_ favoured flower. + +"He must be rich, or else he's poor, and so in love that he's absolutely +beggaring himself for you," said Mrs. Sorel. + +Marise volunteered no opinion. But secretly she preferred the second +hypothesis. She was used to rich men; but no girl is ever really used to +Romance. The mystery thrilled and delighted her, and bored Severance to +distraction. He realised that, if he said to the girl what he had to say +while this spell was upon her, she might let him go with hardly a pang, +instead of clinging to him at almost any price. So he did not say it. He +waited, and sent several cables to his mother's half-brother, +Constantine Ionides, one of the richest bankers in Europe. In the first +of these telegrams he stated that he had influenza, and might not be +allowed to travel for several weeks, but, as soon as he could, he would +return to London. This, because he had come to a certain understanding +with his half-uncle before undertaking the American "mission," and +because Mr. Ionides unluckily knew that the unimportant mission was now +wound up. + +At the end of ten days the girl decided upon a desperate step, for she +felt that "Dolores" as well as Marise Sorel was beginning to suffer from +curiosity deferred. She forgot to take a cue on the night of the doll; +and at home, after she had been in bed an hour, she suddenly sat up and +switched on the light. On a table within reach of her hand were paper +and envelopes, and a gold fountain-pen given her by Severance. Quickly +she wrote out a paragraph which she had composed in the sleepless hours; +and without a word to Mums (sure to disapprove) she gave it very early +next morning to Celine with instructions. + +That evening, in some of the New York papers, and the following day in +all those which had "personal" columns, her paragraph appeared. "Dolores +thanks the anonymous friend who has sent her six charming gifts in ten +days, and begs that he or she will make an appointment to call at her +hotel as soon as possible, in order that Dolores may express her +pleasure and gratitude by word of mouth." + +When Marise read this appeal in print her heart beat in her throat, and +she was dreadfully afraid that her mother or Severance might happen to +glance down that column. But she was even more afraid that the person to +whom it was addressed might not. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +ON SUNDAY AT THREE + + +"Oh, by the way, Miss Marks," said Marise, "you needn't trouble to read +my letters this morning. I--er--slept badly, and I'm up at such an +unearthly hour, I might as well go through them myself." + +She spoke from the doorway between her bedroom and the salon, where Miss +Marks, her secretary, was taking off gloves and hat before getting to +work; and she had on the boudoir gown of mousseline de soie and +swansdown sent by the Great Unknown a week ago. This was the first time +she had worn it, and Miss Marks's eyes sent forth a flash which might +mean admiration or jealousy, or both. Marise diagnosed the emotion as +jealousy. If she were right, she was sorry for the girl, who, though +handsome, could not compare with her, and who, though very intelligent, +was only a stenographer, at about twenty-five: two years older than she, +who was already a brilliant star! + +This thought was but a flash, brief as the flash in the secretary's +eyes, for instantly the mind of Marise turned to the letters. Thank +goodness she was in time! Another three minutes, and she might have been +too late. Miss Marks would by then have begun her first task of the day: +opening letters and sorting them, placing requests for autographs and +photos in one pile, pleas for money in a second, demands for advice or +help about going on the stage in a third, and so on. Who could tell if +the one envelope whose contents no eye but Marise Sorel's should see +mightn't lie at the very top? + +As a matter of fact, it did not lie at the top. It was nearer the +bottom, and long before she found it Marise had begun to fear that it +didn't exist. + +The trying part was that the envelopes told her nothing. She had to cut +or tear open each one, unless she recognised the handwriting of the +address, and could then throw it aside till later. She went through the +business curled up on a sofa, sitting on one foot, which showed among +snowdrifts of swansdown. It was a stockingless foot, thrust into a +silver _mule_ lined with blue velvet; and her skin was satin smooth and +creamy pink as the inside of a conch shell. Miss Marks noticed this, and +noticed also how long and thick was the plait of yellow-brown hair that +dangled over the sofa-back, its curling end within a few inches of the +floor. She smiled faintly as she saw how fast her employer worked, and +how she tossed the letters aside after a fevered glance at each. Marise +was quite right. Miss Marks was very intelligent! She knew, almost as +well as if she had been told the whole story, just why Miss Sorel had +got up at so "unearthly an hour" this morning. + +"Ah, now she's found the one she didn't want me to see!" the dark girl +said to herself, as the face of Marise turned suddenly pink, and bent +over a letter which she read through twice from beginning to end. Then, +lest she should be caught staring, Miss Marks began to arrange her +newly-sharpened pencils and the writing-pad on which she would take +down, in shorthand, letters dictated by Miss Sorel. + +She need not, however, have troubled herself with these elaborate +precautions. Miss Sorel was interested in and puzzled by this handsome +young Jewess with the burning eyes and wet-coral lips; but for the +moment Miss Marks's very existence was forgotten. + +The letter had come, as Marise hoped it might, on this the second day of +her advertisement; but the mystery remained unsolved. Indeed, it was +purposely kept up, for the thick parchment paper had neither initial nor +address. The few words on the first page were unsigned, and only one +secret was given away: but to Marise this was of great importance. The +strong, black handwriting was certainly that of a man. She would have +turned sick with chagrin at sight of a woman's penmanship. + + "It is I who have to thank you, not you me," she read. "You are + very kind to invite me to call, and say I must come soon. I + will take you at your word. Unless I hear to the contrary + through a second 'personal' in the _New York Record_, I will + ask for you at the Plaza Hotel at three o'clock next Sunday + afternoon." + +This was all, and Marise hardly knew whether to be pleased or +disappointed with the brief simplicity of her anonymous admirer. He, +whose original ideas in presents had made her imagine him the most +modern and mundane of men, expressed himself on paper rather like a shy, +old-fashioned schoolboy. A dampening doubt oozed into the girl's mind. +What if he hadn't picked out those wonderful things himself? What if he +had got some woman to choose them? But even a doubt--a piercing, new +doubt--had its fascination. And after Sunday it would be gone for ever. +She would know the worst--or best--of her Mystery Man. + +On Sunday afternoons she and her mother were "at home" to their friends, +from four to six; He proposed coming at three, however, and he was sure +to be prompt to the moment. That ought to give an hour before extraneous +people began to pour in. But--what about Mums? Marise concentrated her +mind upon that pressing problem. + +Mums was as curious as she concerning the unknown. But Mums, though an +absolute trump and a darling, was the most conventional woman on earth. +Just because she and Marise were not born to the high sphere they now +adorned, Mums was determined that neither should be guilty of the +smallest act unworthy of--at least--a countess. Naturally, as Mums +herself would admit, if you were already a countess, you could perhaps +afford to do what you pleased: and to judge from "smart society" columns +many countesses availed themselves to the full of their prerogatives. +Marise might soon be a countess; and if so, Mums would cease to dictate +from the rules of an etiquette book; but until that day those keen brown +eyes needed no lorgnettes to watch a daughter's doings. + +After a few minutes' reflection, the girl decided that she would not +confess to Mums what she had done. It would mean a scolding as a first +instalment, and a serial continued day by day of gentle, motherly +nagging. Marise loved her parent, but she hated to be nagged. No. Mums +must somehow be whisked out of the way before three o'clock next Sunday, +and kept out of it long enough for an understanding to be reached with +Him. + +Of course, Marise said to herself, she wouldn't tell a fib. She would +just explain frankly (she could see how she would look, her eyes very +blue and big, being frank with Him!) that she hadn't dared tell anyone, +even her mother, about the advertisement. And she would beg him to "help +her out" when she--er--made it seem as if he'd merely written to say he +would call unless he heard to the contrary. By that time she would know +his name, so the thing could be managed easily, and Mums never suspect +to what lengths she had gone. As for Severance, the coast would be clear +of him on Sunday till long after three. Dunstan Belloc was giving a +"stag" luncheon that day, at one-thirty, and she had persuaded Tony +against his will to accept. But Mums? How dispose of her? Suddenly a +bright idea swam to the rescue. + +Marise slipped the Unknown's letter into a pocket disguised as a bunch +of silver thistles. Then, with large, innocent eyes, she turned to her +secretary, "Oh, Miss Marks!" she exclaimed. And being an actress, it +occurred to her that the young woman addressed was surprisingly absorbed +in removing lead-pencil dust from her manicured fingers. If +she--Marise--had been secretly studying Miss Marks's profile or back +hair, she would have been equally absent-minded if addressed! She +wondered for the fiftieth time whether it was a coincidence that Miss +Marks had called on the manager of the Plaza the very day after the +Sorels had asked him to find a private secretary. + +At first, when Marise saw how handsome the girl was, and heard that +she'd "hoped Miss Sorel might want someone," the wary young actress +feared that Miss Marks wished to go on the stage. But now the +stenographer had been coming to the Plaza each morning for a week, and +had not thrown out such a hint. She was, indeed, entirely business-like, +and possessed of good references. Still, the fact remained that she had +never before applied to the manager of this hotel; and her appearance +had been apropos as that of the sacrificial sheep caught in the bushes. +Besides, Marise had often observed that odd, appreciative flame in the +black eyes, as if Miss Marks were more interested than a secretary need +be in her employer. + +"Yes, Miss Sorel?" the dark girl responded. "Would you like me to take +dictation?" + +"Not yet, thanks," said Marise. "I haven't had my bath or breakfast, and +I'm hungry. But I've thought of something. Mother and I were so excited +about that Polish boy-dressmaker genius you were talking of yesterday. +He sounds wonderful; and, as he's only beginning, I suppose he's not +choked with orders. He might do some work for me in a hurry?" + +"I think he'd sit up at night and go without meals by day to work for +you," replied Miss Marks. "It would be such an advertisement. And he +loves working for pretty people." + +"Well, I love helping geniuses." Marise modestly accepted the +compliment. "Didn't you say his flat is on your floor?" + +Miss Marks answered that this was the case. Valinski would move to a +fashionable neighbourhood some day. At present his talent budded in 85th +Street. + +"I wish I could go to him myself," sighed Marise. "I can't now, for I'm +so hard-worked and tired. But I thought mother might take a taxi after +lunch next Sunday and choose a design for a tea-gown--his specialty, you +said. Would he see her on Sunday--about a quarter to three, so she could +get back for her friends?" + +Miss Marks was certain of Valinski's consent. She would come for Mrs. +Sorel, if that would suit, and take her to the dressmaker. Marise +thought it would suit: and Mums, arriving at that moment dressed for the +day, an appointment was made. + +The life of Marise Sorel was so full, the pattern of each day so gaily +embroidered with emotions and incidents, that she was surprised at her +own excitement. She did not, however, try to quench it. She loved to +feel that, in spite of the adulation she received, one side of her +nature was as fresh, as unspoiled, as a child's. And she was as guiltily +pleased as a child when, at twenty minutes before three on Sunday +afternoon, her mother went down to a waiting taxi with Zelie Marks. +Patronising the Pole and choosing a design would eat up an hour, Marise +had calculated. + +She had put on a white dress of the simplicity whose price is beyond +rubies. Her hair was in a great gleaming knot of gold at the nape of her +neck. She looked about sixteen, and felt it. When the bell of the +telephone rang at three minutes before three, she thrilled all over. + +"A gentleman asking for Mademoiselle. He says he has an appointment," +announced Celine at the 'phone. + +"Any name?" Marise inquired. + +Celine put her lips to the instrument, the receiver to her ear. "The +gentleman has given no name, because he is expected. But if Mademoiselle +wishes that I insist----?" + +"No. Tell them he's to come up at once. And, Celine, be ready to open +the door of the suite." + +The Frenchwoman went out noiselessly: Marise rushed to the long mirror, +in front of which tall, scented roses were banked. Her cheeks were very +pink. She was like a rose herself. But hastily she rubbed her little +nose with powder from a vanity box. The gold case was only just snapped +shut, and Marise seated with a book, when she heard a sound in the +vestibule. He had come! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +SAMSON AGONISTES + + +Marise raised her eyes from an uncut volume of poems, and looked into +the face of--Samson. + +The shock of disillusion was so cruel that the girl felt faint. She was +giddy, as if she had stooped too long over a hot fire and risen +abruptly. + +So this--_this_--was her Man of Mystery, he who had held in unseen hands +more than half her thoughts for a delicious fortnight! She had deigned +to advertise in a newspaper for the pleasure of meeting this lout, +spurned by his smart regiment, despite his Victoria Cross: this cad, +whose notion of revenge was to explode as a bomb a bottle of +ginger-beer! + +The warm glow of anticipation was chilled to ice. The hands that +tightened on the book went suddenly cold. Marise did not know what to +do. She wavered between an impulse to be rude and the dutiful decency of +a hostess. Meanwhile, forgetting to act, she stared at the tall figure +as if at an approaching executioner. No one but a blind man or a fool +could have failed to see in those beautiful eyes the blankness of +disappointment. + +John Garth was neither blind nor a fool, and that look of hers was a +sharp-edged axe which "hit him where he lived," as his bruised mind +vaguely put it. + +He too had been like a child. Ever since the day of landing in New York +he had planned and existed only for this moment. He had coached himself +for it, dressed himself for it, spent his money like water for it. And +this was his reward. The sight of him was a blow over the heart for his +queen of romance. It blanched her cheeks. It made her physically sick. + +Celine had softly shut the door behind the guest, but involuntarily he +backed against it. If he had been a few years younger he would have +turned like a country boy and rushed away without a word. But there are +some things a man can't do; and others he must do. Garth had to say +something--the sooner the better. + +What he said--or what said itself lamely--was: "You didn't expect to see +me?" + +"No. I--didn't," Marise as lamely agreed. + +"Do you want me to go?" he blundered. "If you do, I will." + +"No--no," she breathed a lukewarm protest. "Don't go--please. I--I'm +only a little surprised. I remember--seeing you on the ship, of course. +And I didn't think----" + +"You didn't think I'd force myself on you--by false pretences." + +"I was going to say, I didn't think of seeing anyone to-day--whom I'd +ever seen before." The ice of her shocked resentment melted slightly in +the reflected fire of his pain. "That's all! Do--sit down, won't you? +I'm so grateful. I want to tell you how much--how much I thank you for +those beautiful things." + +As she spoke, the girl's face flushed again. After all, the man had done +nothing so monstrous. He couldn't be blamed, perhaps, for not realising +that merely by being himself--by being a bounder whom his brother +officers rejected--he had broken the charm of the mystery. He couldn't +know how undesirable he would seem to a girl of her sort. And the way he +had dressed himself up like a provincial actor playing a duke, to make +his call, was pathetic! Besides, there was the money he'd spent on +her--hundreds and hundreds of dollars which he couldn't afford. Oh, she +was glad that she hadn't followed her first fierce impulse, and been +rude! + +Garth had not accepted the invitation to sit down. He remained standing +upright as a stick, and stolid as a stone, against the door. Evidently +he stuck to his resolve to take himself away, and was delayed only by +the mental puzzle of how best to do it. With a repentant throe the girl +sprang up, light and lithe from among her cushions, holding out her +hands. + +"I do thank you!" she exclaimed. "And I _want_ you to sit down." + +Her look, her gesture, overcame him. He took a step forward, seized the +offered hands, and almost crushed them in his. Marise was rather +frightened, rather touched, but not too much moved to notice that he +didn't know enough about behaviour to take off his gloves--his brutally +new, gamboge-coloured gloves! Or else he was absent minded! + +Partly because her one ring was pressing into her finger, partly because +she wished for instant release, she gave a little squeak of pain. "Oh, +my ring!" + +Red blood poured up to the man's brown face. The pressure relaxed, but +he did not let her hands go. He lifted them to his lips and kissed first +one, then the other. His mouth was hot as a coal just dropped from the +fire!... That was her quick impression. She was not shocked, for her +hands had been kissed a hundred times by sad, mad men--though not men +like this. She said "Oh!" however, and gazed at him reproachfully, as +"Dolores" gazed at the villain in "The Song." + +The effect upon Garth was the same as if she had been sincerely +offended. He let her hands fall, and stammered "Forgive me!" + +Marise was beginning to enjoy herself a little, on the whole. + +Of course the man was common and rough. What was it that Tony had called +his despised brother officer? A "temporary gentleman!" Yes, that was it! +And a "momentary gentleman" would be even more appropriate, she thought, +because at an instant of deep emotion all decent men were raised to the +heights of Nature's gentility. This fellow was as fine as any nobleman, +for these few seconds of time, she realised, and it was worship of her +which added the new decoration to his V.C.! Despite her disappointment, +she felt that romance was not utterly lacking in the situation. + +"There's nothing to forgive," were the obvious words her lips spoke: but +the language of such eyes as hers could never be obvious. The soul of +John Garth drowned in their blue depths. As dying men lose all care for +conventions, so did he lose it while thus he drowned. + +"I love you--I love you!" he faltered. "You know, don't you? From the +first--from the first look!" + +"Oh no, I don't know that," Marise soothed him. "But you've been so +kind. Those wonderful presents! You ought not----" + +"Thinking of them--sending them--has been the big joy of my life," he +broke in. "I've been--drunk with it. I've never felt anything like this +before. Why, I'd die for you; I'd sell my soul. Even that's nothing!" + +"They're very great things," she assured him gravely, as she had assured +other men of different types who had flung themselves on her altar as +burnt-offerings. "Any woman would feel the same. But----" + +"I don't care a hang what any other woman would feel. All I care for on +God's earth is you--you. Couldn't you think of me--couldn't you, if I +tried to make something of myself----?" + +Marise laughed a charming laugh. "Isn't it making something of yourself, +to have won the Victoria Cross?" she challenged. + +"Oh, that! That was an accident. I just got so mad I forgot to be scared +for a minute or two, and went for a few Germans----" + +"The newspapers compared you to Horatio keeping the bridge against an +army." + +"George! You remember that?" + +"Women don't forget such things." (She would have forgotten if that +clipping from the _Daily Mail_ hadn't associated itself with Tony's +onslaught upon the regimental hero. But she wasn't called upon to +mention this.) "It was long before I saw you, that I read what you had +done, and fixed your name in my mind," she went on. "Now I have my own +special memories of you. I shall keep your gifts always. And I shall be +prouder of them than ever, because they came from a hero----" + +"You're breaking it to me that there's no hope," he cut in. The blood +was gone from his face now. "Nothing I could do, or try to be, would +make you like me well enough----" + +"Oh, you are too impulsive!" she checked him. "You've seen me only +twice----" + +"I've seen you every night since we landed, and twice a week in the +afternoon." + +"What, you've come to the theatre for every performance, even matinees, +just to--to----?" + +"Hear your voice and see your face. And hate that damned actor-chap who +kisses you in the third act." + +"He doesn't really kiss me," Marise hurried to explain. "He only seems +to." + +"God! He must be a stone image!" + +"He is a gentleman," amended Marise. "Actors who are gentlemen don't +kiss the actresses who play opposite parts, unless--unless it's +absolutely necessary." + +"Then if I played a part with you on the stage, I couldn't be a +gentleman," Garth exploded. But even as he spoke he blushed darkly. "You +don't think I am one _off_ the stage," he added. "And you're right. I'm +not what your friend Lord Severance calls a gentleman. I know what he +does call me, and I am that, I guess, anyhow when he's within gunshot. +He brings out all that's worst in me. There's a lot of it--so much, that +if that thing on shipboard was to do over again, I'd do it without a +qualm. I suppose there's where the 'cad' element he talks about in me +shows up. If he was here now----" + +"Ze Earl of Severance, Mademoiselle," announced Celine. + +Whether Garth had meant to boast or belittle himself Marise would never +know. Nor did she care. All her faculties concentrated upon how to +account to Severance for the man. It was a suffocating moment. She +feared a scene between the two. The situation called for a stroke of +genius. Was she equal to it? She must be, for Garth's sake and for her +own, even more than for Tony's, and what he would think. + +Severance came in. Suddenly Marise felt as she had felt on the stage +when something went wrong with the play. She had often had to save +situations by sheer, quick mother wit. Never had she failed her fellow +actors in a crisis. She ought to be ready for this! + +Her nerves ceased to jump. She was calm and confident. As Severance's +darkening gaze fell on Garth, she heard herself glibly explaining the +latter, as if to an audience. + +"Major Garth is a friend of Miss Marks, my secretary. She has gone out +for a few minutes with mother, but he is waiting for her. She'll soon be +back." + +Speaking, she smiled at the V.C., and her eyes pleaded excuses for the +fib. "It's only a white one," they said. "And it saves our secret. I +know you'd hate me to tell him you'd sent the presents, and I never, +never will. That is sacred, between us two. So is all the rest. And I'm +trying to straighten things out for us both." + +Garth appeared to be astonished, but not shocked. His silk hat (a size +too small) lay on a table in a pool of water from an upset vase, he +having flung it there to free his hands for hers. Now he made a move to +retrieve his damaged property, but a second thought gave him pause. +Marise read his mind as if it worked under glass. Her fib about Miss +Marks had doomed him to the part of Casabianca, while the ship of his +pride burned. + +The "lion-look" she had seen in the man's eyes that day at sea was in +them again. Poor brute at bay, caged with Severance! The girl pitied +him. But things must take their course. Luckily for the success of her +lie, Miss Marks was not returning with Mums. She--Marise--need only say, +when the latter arrived alone, what a pity it was! Thus Samson would +automatically obtain his release. + +The men nodded to one another, as polite enemies must sullenly do in a +woman's drawing-room. Then Severance turned to Miss Sorel with the air +of sponging Garth's mean existence off the earthly slate. "I'm early," +he explained, "because the hotel people sent me a cable to Belloc's +place. I told them to do so, if one came. My Uncle Constantine Ionides +is ill, and I'm afraid I shall have to go back by the first ship I can +catch. I hoped to be in time for a few words with you before your +friends began to drop in." + +This was hard on the intruder, forced against his will to turn a +"company" into a "crowd," and Marise's kind heart might have resented +the slap if her mind had been free. But it was instantly preoccupied +with Tony's news. He was going home! He wanted to talk with her alone. +This could mean only one thing. She supposed that he wished her to +understand as much; and either he took Garth for a dunce or intended him +to understand it too. It was as if he said to the bounder: "You're +welcome to what you can find in your own class: Miss Marks and her set. +But eyes down and hands off this girl. She's mine." + +The hint was too broad, the position too humiliating, for Garth's temper +to bear in patience. Like the caged brute in Marise's simile, he +searched the bars for some way of breaking through. But he could not +leave her in the lurch. Practically, she'd ordered him to "stand by," +and he'd have to do it, unless some look of hers gave him leave to bolt. +The look did not come, however, and he could not guess that the girl was +merely too absent-minded to give it. She had suddenly become as +self-absorbed as a hermit-crab when he pulls every filament of himself +inside his ample shell. As Miss Sorel questioned Severance about the +telegram, Garth was left to his own resources. He felt gigantic in the +small, pretty salon, where Chinese jars and ribboned pots of flowers +left hardly room for a clumsy fellow like him to turn among frail chairs +and tables. He knew that Severance knew how he writhed in spirit, and +that Severance knew he knew. How much worse was this ordeal than a petty +barrage of ginger-beer! Severance was scoring heavily now. Garth thought +in dumb rage that he would give a year of life for some way to pay him +back. And the girl, too! He loved her with a burning love, but at this +moment the difference between love and hate was as imperceptible as that +between the touch of ice and a red-hot poker. She was being very cruel. +Garth felt capable of punishing her--with Severance--if he could. + +He took his hat from the table, and rubbing the wet silk with his glove, +stained the yellow kid. Incidentally he made the hat worse. He wandered +to a window looking over the park, and longed to jump out. In his +awkward misery, the man's raw sensitiveness suffered to exaggeration. +Staring jealously at the crowd below--walking, driving, spinning past in +autos--he knew the emotions of one penned at the top of a house on fire, +gazing down at the safe, comfortable people free to pursue their daily +business of life, and love, and work. Behind him, Marise and her friend +jabbered (that was the word in his head, even for her sweet voice) as if +he were invisible. Desperation seized him. He turned, and down went a +stand with a statuette and the Sevres box the "Unknown" had sent Miss +Sorel. It was poetic justice that _his_ gift should be the thing +smashed! + +Marise said "Oh!" Severance said nothing. He stood still, fingering his +miniature moustache with the air of a man who expects a lackey to repair +damage. Garth saw red; and if he had picked up a piece of the broken box +it would have been to hurl it at the dark, sneering face. But Heaven +sometimes tempers the wind to shorn lions as well as lambs: and if +Providence did not order the entrance of two women at that instant, who +did? + +It was Mrs. Sorel who appeared and (Marise gasped) Miss Zelie Marks. Out +of her shell in self-defence, the actress would have rushed to save this +scene, as she had saved the last--somehow, anyhow! But to her +bewilderment Garth took one great stride towards Miss Marks and snatched +her hand as drowning men are said to snatch at straws. "How do you do?" +he exclaimed eagerly. + +"Miss Marks and Major Garth are friends," Marise rattled off to her +mother. And to herself she added, "How smart of him to guess who she +was! Or--did he know?" + +The secretary's cheeks were stained carnation, and she was handsomer in +an instant than Marise had thought she could be in a year. Her black +eyes were twinkling. Did she guess that she was a pawn in a game, and +had she so keen a sense of humour as to laugh? Marise was more +interested than ever in this young woman: and Mrs. Sorel, not knowing +the plot of the play, was yet warned by her famous "instinct" that +something queer, something dangerous, was in the air. + +She was a woman who prided herself on presence of mind. Marise hadn't +expected her secretary to return, therefore it seemed unlikely she would +have encouraged the Bounder to wait for Miss Marks. And as for that, why +was the Bounder here? Being here, the further he could be kept from +Marise and Severance the better. She herself had no time to weave spells +for him. Miss Marks must do that, and take him away with her when she +went. Without appearing to pause after Marise's announcement, Mary Sorel +smiled at Miss Marks. "Talk to Major Garth, my dear," she patronised, +"while I explain to my daughter why we tore back in such a rush." + +Zelie Marks took the lady at her word, and drew her "friend" apart. By +the remotest window the two halted, standing confidentially close, the +girl looking up at the man, the man looking down at the girl. As the +conversation was now only of Valinski's dress designs, not Severance's +plans, Marise had a sub-eyelash glance or so to spare for the couple. +Well, certainly Samson was a creditable actor, or else.... + +"They were all so lovely I dared not choose," Mums was expatiating. "I +said to Miss Marks, 'Suppose we run back in the taxi and let my daughter +select? Or, she may want to order more than one of the gowns.' So I +slipped the designs back into the portfolio Mr. Valinski had taken them +from, and asked permission to borrow the lot. Lord Severance must tell +us which he prefers. He's such a good judge! And Miss Marks can carry +back the portfolio, with a note from me to Valinski, when she goes." + +The three heads--Tony's glossy black, Marise Sorel's glittering gold, +her mother's a rich, expensive brown--bent together above a trio of +water-colour sketches. Under cover of selection Severance whispered: "I +have some bad news. Marise knows it. But I've got to have a talk with +you both before I leave this room. I can't bear suspense. For heaven's +sake get rid of people as early as you can." + +"Must talk to them both.... Couldn't bear suspense!" The woman agreed +with the girl in thinking there was but one interpretation for this! + +"I'll do my best," murmured Mrs. Sorel, and resolved to begin the good +work by bustling Miss Marks and Major Garth off the moment the tea-gown +business was finished. In the midst, however, Mrs. Dunstan Belloc +breezed in with her pretty sister and Belloc's millionaire backer. Mary +Sorel moved to meet them with the manner she had copied from Tony's +great-aunt, the Duchess of Crownderby. So doing, she slipped Valinski's +portfolio into her daughter's hands with an unduchess-like, "Hurry up +and choose, and have done with it!" + +Somehow, Marise had not the proper new-dress thrill this afternoon. She +languidly decided on a classic design which Severance liked, and +Valinski had named "Galatea." + +"Put the others back in the portfolio, please, Tony," she said. "I must +go and help Mums"--but the microbe of accidents was running amok in the +Sorels' salon. Tony dropped the book, and the Pole's designs fluttered +about the room. Everybody squealed and began picking up papers. One had +fallen on the remains of the Sevres box, as if to hide the wreckage. +Garth was nearest the scene of his own disaster. He stooped. Marise +seized the chance for a word with him. She stooped also. Each grasped +the sketch, which came face uppermost; and under their eyes was the +design for the blue and silver gown sent by the Unknown. + +Zoyo Valinski had made that dress, then, and sacrificed an advertisement +to keep Garth's secret! Zoyo Valinski lived in the house with Miss +Marks, and was recommended by her. H'm! H'm! + +These thoughts jostled each other in the brain of Marise, and brought in +their train another. Naturally Garth had not been shocked at her fib. He +didn't know it was a fib! The surprise was only that Miss Sorel had hit +on the truth and used it so glibly. + +"That Marks girl helped him choose the things," she told herself. And +she was as much annoyed as puzzled. She wished to fling at Garth: "You +sent her to our hotel manager to ask for my work. Why, she's simply +spying on me, for you!" + +But she said nothing of the sort. Indeed, she had no time. Seeing Marise +and the Bounder together, Mary Sorel flew to part them. "Miss Marks +wants me to say she'll be ready to go in a few minutes," the anxious +lady encouraged Garth. "She's been captured by Mrs. Belloc. It seems she +did secretarial work for her once. Come, and I'll introduce you. I've +just told Mrs. Belloc that you are _the_ V.C." + +It was half an hour before the man's martyrdom was ended. The worst had +been suffered at the beginning, when he was the third in a reluctant +trio. But it was all bad enough. He was as well suited to this jewel-box +of a salon as a bull is to a china shop, and he had done nearly as much +damage. He didn't know what to say to Mrs. Belloc or her smart, +chattering friends, and they didn't know what to say to him. Even a +Victoria Cross couldn't excuse such taste in clothes as his! The big +fellow's necktie was a scream; his gloves (no other man kept on gloves!) +a yell; and his boots--literally--a squeak. That was the description of +him which Mrs. Belloc planned for the entertainment of her husband, and +Garth saw it developing behind her eyes. + +"Give me the trenches!" he thought, when at last Miss Marks wriggled +free of the actor-manager's wife. He still hated Marise as much as he +loved her. Yet when he said "Good-bye" he did not mean it for farewell. +He determined ferociously that he would see her again. "Next time," he +resolved, "I won't knock over any tables. I'll turn them. I'll turn the +tables my way perhaps, and against that damned pig of an earl!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +WHAT THE STAR SAID + + +"Thank Heaven she's gone, and it's ten minutes past!" fervently sighed +Mrs. Sorel, as the door closed behind a guest she had kissed warmly on +both cheeks. "Celine, 'phone down and tell them not to send anyone else +up, no matter who. We needn't be 'at home' a second after six." + +She and Marise and Severance now had the sitting-room to themselves. The +girl, who had been too busy feeding others to eat anything herself, +selected a macaroon from a half-empty dish and nibbled it prettily. +Severance regarded the charming creature with clouded eyes, wondering +how much appetite their talk would leave her. + +"How dear of you to stay and see us through!" cooed Mary, as if she had +not known Severance's impatience equal to her own. She did this to lead +up to her own tactful exit; and the mere male swallowed her bait without +suspicion. + +"See you through?" he echoed. "Why, I've been hanging on by my eyelids, +waiting for my chance with you and Marise." + +"Unless it's something you need me for," the chaperon said sweetly, +"perhaps I might leave you to Marise's tender mercies. I'm a little +tired----" + +"I do need you," Severance assured her. "I don't dare to say what I've +got to say to Marise alone. If I did, she might misunderstand. I can't +risk that. Mrs. Sorel, this talk means everything to me. You're my +friend. Promise _you_ won't misunderstand." + +Mary Sorel retained a fixed, kind smile; but she had a sickly sensation +under her Empire waistband, as if something inside had melted and then +cooled. She glanced at Marise, to judge if the girl had been in any way +prepared for this queer outbreak. No, evidently not! The blue eyes +looked large and suddenly scared. Marise stopped eating the macaroon, +and, going slowly to the table, she laid the nibbled remnant on somebody +else's plate. + +"Why, of course I'll stop," Mary said. "I'm not so tired as to desert +you when you flatter me like that." + +"I'm not flattering, I'm depending on you." Never before, in her +acquaintance with him, had the voice of Severance betrayed such +agitation. Mary braced herself against a blow; but the melting thing +inside began to congeal like cold candle-grease. Her knees felt like +water. Still smiling, she sank rather than sat on a sofa, and held up +her hand to Marise. + +"If Lord Severance has a confession to make, we'd better sit together in +judgment," she proposed. "We'll be kind judges, and this shall be our +throne." + +"Call it an appeal--a prayer--not a confession," Severance said. "If I'd +ever prayed to God as I'm going to pray to you both, maybe I'd not be in +the fix I'm in now." + +"One would think you were afraid of us!" quavered Marise. + +"I am," he admitted. "I was never in such a blue funk in my life. My +legs are like poached eggs without toast." + +The girl laughed nervously. "You'd better sit down," she advised. + +"I couldn't to save my life. Might as well ask a chap on the rack to +sing 'Araby.'" + +"You're really frightening us!" Mary's tone was shrill. "Have Bolsheviks +blown up your family castles? Have you lost all your money? Aren't you +the true heir to the title?" + +"I'm the heir right enough," Severance took her seriously. "And I +haven't got any money--worth calling money. There's the rub! Marise, you +know I love you?" + +The girl caught her breath. "Why--sometimes I've thought so." + +"You've known it, as well as you know you're alive. If I hadn't come +into the beastly title I'd have asked you to marry me long ago. It was +your own fault I didn't ask you, before my Cousin Eric died--the first +one of the lot to go. You used to snub me every time I tried to speak of +marrying. You didn't want to make up your mind!" + +"No, honestly, I didn't," she confessed. "I liked you a whole lot, Tony, +but--I wasn't quite sure--of either of us, you see, and----" + +"You might have been sure of me! I couldn't look at any woman except +you." + +"It wasn't that sort of thing--exactly. People--cats!--used to put such +horrid ideas into my head." + +"What ideas?" + +"I simply can't tell you, Tony. Don't ask me, please." + +"Oh, well!" he flung out. "It doesn't matter much now what ideas you had +then. Do you love me to-day, Marise?" + +"I--think I do--a little," she almost whispered, as her parent's arm +(twined round her waist) pressed painfully against her side. + +"A little isn't enough!" Severance said. "It must be a big love to stand +the strain." + +"The strain of what?" Mary, as a mother, intervened. + +"Of the sacrifice I'm going to ask--to beg, to implore--her to make." + +"Sacrifice? Do you mean anything about money?" Mrs. Sorel wanted to +know. "You were quite right in calling me your friend. I can assure you +it would be a joy to Marise if, in your trouble, her money----" + +"The trouble's worse than money." + +"Tell us quickly," the girl bade him. "You said you couldn't bear +suspense. Neither can I bear it. We're both fond of you, Tony--Mums and +I. What hurts you, hurts us." And her tingling brain suddenly, +inappropriately, gave her a picture of Garth, as he had stood tall and +stiff against the door. He, too, had said, in vibrating tones, that he +loved her. He had begged her to give him a chance; implored that she +would let him try to be worthy. As if, poor fellow, he ever could come +up to her standard! What girl of her breeding would think of him twice +when there were blue-blooded, perfectly-groomed Greek gods like Tony +Severance on earth? Mentally she whistled John Garth, V.C., down the +wind to low-lying valleys peopled with girls like Miss Marks. + +Tony was pale with the dusky pallor of olive complexions; his pleading +eyes were like velvet with diamonds glittering through. She had never +realised how he loved her--he, whom so many women worshipped. She felt +that she loved him dearly, too. For the first time her heart was stirred +warmly by his extraordinary good looks. + +"You know all about my Uncle Constantine, my mother's half-brother," he +said, leaning on the mantelpiece and nervously lighting a cigarette +(Mrs. Sorel and Marise permitted this; even smoked with him now and +then). "Well, Uncle Con had very little use for me till by a fluke I got +the title. I never expected a penny of his money, though he was my +mother's guardian before she ran away with my father. He thought I was a +rotter, and didn't mind my knowing his opinion. He didn't exactly forbid +me his house in London, for he'd been fond of mother in his hard way, +but he gave me no encouragement to come. His vacillation was because of +my cousin OEnone. Did I ever speak of her to you?" + +"You may have mentioned her," said Marise. "But, of course, we knew of +her existence. There are always things in the papers about people with +such incredible stacks of millions as the Ionides family have. She's a +'poor little rich girl,' isn't she? An invalid--something the matter +with her spine?" + +"She is an invalid," Severance answered. "But as years go, she isn't a +'little girl' any more. She's close on twenty-two. I doubt if she'll +ever see twenty-three in this world." + +"Pathetic!" sympathised Marise. "All that money couldn't give her +happiness!" + +"She thinks," said Severance sullenly, "that only one thing can give her +happiness--marrying me." + +"Good gracious!" gasped Mrs. Sorel. Her blood flew to her head. Was he +asking Marise to love him, only to break the news that she was to be +jilted? + +"OEnone has cared, since she was a tiny child," Severance stumbled +gloomily on. "It really was pathetic, then. When she began to grow up +(not much in size, poor girl, but in years, you know), Uncle Con would +have shut the door on me if he hadn't been afraid OEnone would die of +grief. He thought me cad enough to cook up some plot, and contrive to +marry the girl behind his back--for her millions. But when I got the +earldom, a change came o'er the spirit of his dream.... He's a born +snob, is my half-Uncle Constantine! He always loved a title, and hoped +he could squeeze one for himself out of some British Government, but +he's never succeeded, so far. Instead of chasing me away with a stick, +he invited me to come as often as possible. And just before you arranged +to sail he made me a definite offer." + +"You don't mean----" Mary Sorel broke down in the midst of her sentence. + +"I do. He said if I would marry OEnone, and 'make his daughter a +countess' (real old melodrama stuff!) he'd settle a million pounds on +me, on our wedding-day. Also, I'd inherit OEnone's private fortune. +Darling Marise, dear Mrs. Sorel, if you knew all the money troubles I've +had, and have still, you'd forgive me if I told you this was a +temptation." + +"But you didn't yield?" Mary prompted. + +"No-o. Because Marise was sailing for the States, and I couldn't let her +come over here without me, to be gobbled up by some beastly American +millionaire. I had to be with her. I had to!" + +"That is real love," cried Mary. "I'm proud of you." + +"I'm not proud of myself," he mumbled. "I got that bally mission. I +persuaded Uncle Con to believe--at least I hope he more or less +believed!--that it was thrust on me, instead of my doing all I knew to +bag it. I told him I'd decide directly I returned to England--which +would be soon. But it hasn't been soon. He's a man who gets inside +information about official things. He knows the mission is finished, and +I could go home any day I liked. Presently, if I'm not jolly careful, +he'll find out why I don't like. Then my goose will be cooked. +Marise--Mrs. Sorel--I simply can't afford to have that happen." + +"What do you propose to do?" Mary challenged him, dry-lipped. + +The black eyes blazed despair. "What can I do?" + +"Tony," said Marise softly, "I've got 'normous lots of money saved up; +'most two hundred thousand dollars. You don't need to grovel in the dust +to any old Greek banker, if he is your uncle. So there!" + +"My poor, sweet baby," groaned Severance. "What's two hundred thousand +dollars? Fifty thousand pounds, isn't it? That's pin money for you and +your mother; and you go on making more while you stay on the stage, as a +spider winds silvery thread out of itself. But for me it's not nearly +enough, as things are now. It wouldn't save the situation. I've come +into more than that amount with the estates. It's a drop in the bucket, +I find. The fellows behind me in the succession resigned themselves to +poverty. I can't, for the best of reasons. I'm in a beastly +moneylender's hands. I began by owing him ten thousand pounds. It's more +like eighty thousand to-day. Now, maybe, you see where we stand." + +"No, I don't see yet, where we are concerned," Mary objected. "You said +you'd some suggestion--some proposal to make. But if Manse's money isn't +enough to----" + +"It isn't, even if I could take it." + +"And if you're considering the idea of marrying your cousin----" + +"I've got to marry her. That's all there is to it. I've realised it +since a heart-to-heart talk old Con forced me to have with him a +fortnight before we sailed. I saw that some day this thing would have to +happen." + +"Then where--does Marise come in?" Mary suddenly bristled like a +mother-porcupine. + +For a moment Severance did not speak. It seemed that he could not. His +gaze turned first to Marise, then to Mary. Could it be possible that +those black eyes of his glittered with starting tears? + +"I'm going to tell you," he said slowly, at last. "I want to tell you on +my knees. It's the only way a man could dare to say a thing like this to +a girl like Marise--to a woman like you, Mrs. Sorel." + +He did not wait for a word from either, but dropped to one knee, and +threw his arms about both women as they clung nervously together. They +could feel the throb of blood in his muscles. His face was no longer +merely handsome; it was beautiful with a tragic, Greek beauty. The look +in his eyes (Mary thought vaguely, as one thinks under a light dose of +ether) would touch a heart of stone. + +"I've got to marry OEnone," he repeated, "or come the worst cropper of +any Severance for a century. If I'd never met you, Marise, I'd have done +it without a qualm. OEnone's a nice little thing--not the sort to keep +a man in leading-strings because she holds the purse. I could have +amused myself without much fear that she'd fuss--or tell tales to her +father. But when a man loves a woman as I love you, it changes his +outlook. I must see you. I must be with you. I can't live away from you +for long." + +"I'm afraid you'll have to when you've married Miss Ionides," Mary's +frozen voice warned him. + +"Wait! Listen to my plan. I've only just thoroughly worked it out. +I----" + +"Yet you told us a minute ago that you'd decided on this marriage before +sailing." + +"That's true. But don't be so hard on me. You promised to be kind +judges. Put yourself in my place, if you can, Mrs. Sorel. My love for +your girl is more than love. It's a flame--a driving passion. Can a man +reason coldly when his blood, and his brain too, are on fire! I had to +come with her to New York. I couldn't look ahead further than that. I +mean to make some plan, and God knows I've tried, day and night. I've +thought of little else. But every idea I had was shut up inside what +they call a 'vicious circle.' I could see no way out that Marise would +accept--or you would let her accept. Then this last cable of old Con's +came to-day, while I was at Belloc's. It is a kind of ultimatum. I know +he means me to understand that. You can see it if you like--only let me +go on now--as I'm started. It would be worse beginning again. He says +he's down with 'flu, and OEnone is ill too, and he must see me to +'settle the matter under discussion, or it may be too late.' Those are +his words. They're a threat. By Jove, it was a douche, reading that in +the midst of a jolly luncheon! I saw stars: but one of them has sent me +a ray of light. I almost prayed to get its message. First time I've +prayed since I was in the nursery! Yet here I am on my knees to you +both, to tell you what the star said. + +"Uncle Con may have 'flu, and he may die, but he's sure to tie +everything up tight. I'm marked for slaughter. There's no squirming out. +But poor OEnone can't live long, even if she gets the toy she wants to +play with--me. Her father doesn't thoroughly realise that she's doomed, +but her doctors do. One of them is a friend of mine. He told me. She's +got some queer kind of incipient tuberculosis, and chronic anaemia. +Happiness--such as I can give her--will only be a flash in the pan. I'll +be more of a nurse than a husband. Well, I'm willing to go through all +that, and do my honest best for her, while she lives. But if _I'm_ to +live, I can't be separated for a year--or at worst, let's say two +years--from the light of my life, the core of my heart. I must be able +to meet Marise, to have her society, her friendship--by God, I swear I +mean no evil! I must have something, I tell you, if I'm to get through +that probation. Well, I see as clearly as you both see that we must have +no scandal--for her sake--and for mine, too--and even for OEnone's. I +don't want to distress the poor little thing! So here's the plan that +jumped into my brain ready made. Don't cut me short--don't tell me to +stop before I've explained--before I've got to the end." + +"Go on," said Mary Sorel, in a strained voice. Marise did not speak. She +felt dazed, as if she were in a feverish dream. + +"Suppose I marry; suppose I bring my--suppose I bring OEnone (I can +hardly call her a 'wife') over to America for a change of air, a tonic. +She'd like that. She's always wanted to travel, but her father had no +time; and she wouldn't have been happy with paid guardians. I'd paint a +glowing picture of California--or Arizona: they say it's great out there +for tubercular people. Even OEnone's own father would approve of such +a trip if--if Marise were supposed to be out of the running. Don't +speak! I'm going to explain! What I mean is this.... + +"Old Con is the opposite of a mole. He knows I've been a different man +this last year. He ferreted out the truth somehow--did it himself, or +with a detective's help. Probably himself: he's that kind. He doesn't +trust his secrets to others. He didn't object openly to my American +mission. In a way, it was an honour. But, of course, he learned that I +was sailing on the ship with you two. He hasn't given me a day's rest +since we landed. I wired I'd had 'flu. (I did get a cold last week!) +Then he took a leaf out of my book. Now he's developed the disease! If +Marise were acting in New York and touring the States, he'd smell a rat +if I prescribed America for my bride's health. But if Marise were +married to another man, and had left the stage----" + +"Good heavens!" Mary bounded on the sofa, and gasped aloud. But +Severance pressed her down with a strong arm. + +"You promised to let me finish!" he urged. "Now you'll begin to +understand why I wouldn't say all this to Marise alone. Asking you to be +with us proves my respect for her--for you both. This isn't only the +plea of a desperate man--though it's that first of all! It's a business +proposition. The day I marry OEnone Ionides, I become master of a +million pounds. That's five million dollars. One million of those five +million dollars I would offer to a--dummy husband for Marise. Let me go +on! A man who'd understand that he was to be a figurehead, and nothing +more. You'd say--if you'd say anything--that only a cur in the gutter +would take such a position, and a cur in the gutter would be of no use +to us. To rise above suspicion--even old Con's suspicion!--He'd have to +be a decent sort of chap to all appearances, a man who might attract a +girl--even a girl like Marise. He'd have to have some money of his own +already, and some sort of standing. With that in his favour, the world +and my uncle would accept him as a husband Miss Sorel might choose. Such +a person could be found--for a million dollars. I know men of all sorts, +and I guarantee that. With a million dollars behind her, Marise could +give up the stage--she'd do that, anyhow, if she married me. She could +travel west with her dummy husband (and her mother, of course, that goes +without saying!) By that time, I'd be over here again with poor +OEnone. We could all meet--by accident. In England, even that might +make talk. England's too small for us. But over here, in a big free +country--especially out west--it would be safe. We should see each +other, Marise and I. And I'd ask no more than that. For a while I could +live on the sight of her--and hope. When OEnone's little spark of life +burns out, as it must before long, with the best of care possible, +Marise at once divorces her dummy. He gives her technical cause, of +course. That's part of the bargain I make with my million. No breath of +scandal against Marise! And, a few months later, she and I are married. +There's only this short road of red-hot ploughshares for us both to +tread. Then, instead of marrying a pauper, such as I am now, and both of +us battening on her bank account--she'd perhaps be forced to go back on +the stage to keep the pot boiling--my darling girl finds herself the +wife of a very rich man, one of the richest peers in Great Britain. For +in addition to old Con's million pounds, I should have OEnone's +private fortune. He has agreed to that, with her, in the event of her +death, which he hopes may be long delayed by happiness, and which I know +won't--can't possibly be.... There! I've finished at last! The only +thing left is for me to tell you over again that my life depends on your +decision. I believe I'll kill myself if the answer is 'No.'" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SOMETHING OUT OF ANCIENT ROME + + +The hot torrent of words ceased. There was silence in the gaily-tinted, +flower-filled salon, save for the tick of an absurd Louis Seize clock on +the mantel. Under the gilt wheel of Time a cupid balanced back and +forth, in a Rhinestone swing--"Yes," "No," the seesaw motion seemed to +say. + +The stillness was terrible to Severance. He did not get up from his +knees. He did not release the women's waists from the girdle of his +arms. His eyes were on the face of Marise. Never had he seen her so +pale. + +"For God's sake, speak!--one of you," he stammered. + +Abruptly the girl pushed his arm away, and sprang to her feet. + +"You are wicked!" she cried. "Horrible! It can't be true that this has +happened to me. It's a nightmare. I want to wake up!" + +Severance abandoned his prayerful position and faced her. He would have +caught her hands, but she thrust him back with violence. + +"I thought you were a modern Englishman, like other Englishmen--like all +other decent men I've known. But you're not," she panted. "You're +something out of the Middle Ages. No! you're before that You're of +Ancient Rome--the time of the Borgias. Or Beatrice Cenci." + +"Don't, don't, Marise, my child!" Mary joined soothing with command. +"You'll make yourself ill. We must be calm. We must think." + +"Think?" the girl repeated. "What is there to think about? Surely you +don't suggest that I should 'reflect'--that I should study whether to +accept or not such a--bargain?" + +"That's a hard word!" Severance pleaded. "And as for Ancient Rome, I +should say that it and modern Britain--or France--or even your own +America--are the same at bed-rock. We're all volcanoes with our lava +cooled a bit on the surface by laws--or civilisation. Human passions +don't change; and the strongest of them is love. Anyhow, it is so with +me. I'm half Greek, you know, and my English half is half Spanish." + +"Dearest, when I tell you to 'think,' of course it depends on whether +you love Tony or not," Mary Sorel reminded her daughter. But even she +did not dare touch Marise at that moment. It would have been much like +trying to pat a young, unfed leopardess. She, always keeping on the +conventional side, had never before called Severance "Tony" to his face. +As a parched patch of earth thirstily sucks in the least drop of dew, he +caught at this sign of grace, and thanked his stars that he had made a +reckless bid for Mary's friendship. She adored England and old English +customs; above all, old English titles. In the midst of gratitude, the +man knew her for a snob, and counted on the sacrifice she would offer +the god of Snobbery. If anyone could help him, she could. If any counsel +could prevail with the hurt, humiliated, angry girl, it would be her +mother's. + +"Do you love him?" Mary persevered, when Marise kept silence behind a +bitten red lip. + +"I did love him. I thought I did." + +"Darling, I know you loved him, and do love him. You're suffering now. +But, remember poor Tony is suffering too." + +"Poor Tony!" + +"Yes, poor Tony. He has gone through a great deal, and has kept it in, +hoping against hope. He didn't speak out till there seemed to be no more +hope--except in this one way. I told you, even on shipboard, I felt he +was living under some strain. I'm a woman, and your mother. I'd be the +first on earth to resent the slightest insult to you, if it were meant. +But just because I'm a woman, who has lived through a woman's experience +of life and love--love of husband--love of child--I recognise sincerity +by instinct. Severance is truly sincere. He worships you, and if he has +been carried away, it is by worship. Don't drive him to desperation by +refusing to forgive him, whatever else you may decide to do." + +"It rests with you, Marise, whether I live or die," Severance was now +encouraged to plead. + +The girl's lips trembled. "Oh, if only I could wake up!" she cried. +Tears poured over her cheeks. Mary caught the shaking figure to her +breast. The two wept together. + +"We must--must face things!" Mary let herself sob. "I'm afraid we _are_ +awake--wider awake than we've ever been in our happy life these last +three years. We took the pleasant side of things for granted. As they +say over here, we're 'up against' the grim side now. If you love Tony +only half as much as he loves you, why, it seems to me you ought--indeed +it's your duty to your future--to think twice before sending him out +into darkness, with no light of hope." + +"Things like my plan often happen to people, just by accident," said +Tony. "A man who loves one girl has to marry another. His wife dies. +Meanwhile, the first girl has taken a husband--perhaps out of pique. +He's a rotter. She divorces him. Then the pair who've loved each other +are free to be happy ever after. If they're rich, too, so much the +better for them! They don't feel guilty. Why should they? They've +nothing to feel guilty about. Why should it be so appalling if a man, to +save his soul and his love, plans out something of this sort, instead of +blundering into it? I can't see any reason. Aren't you being a +Pharisee--or a hypocrite, Marise?" + +"Aren't _you_ being a Joseph Surface?" she flung back. "Perhaps I never +told you that I played 'Lady Teazle,' and got a prize at my dramatic +school. So I know all about the 'consciousness of innocence.'" + +The girl spoke stormily. Her eyes blazed at the man through tears. Yet +he and Mary both knew from her words--her tone--that in spite of herself +she had begun to "think." + +"Joseph Surface was a cold snake," said Tony. "At worst I'm not that, or +I wouldn't be ready to wade through fire and water to win you at last." + +"No, you're not a cold snake," Marise agreed. And the eyes of Severance +and Mrs. Sorel met, as the girl dashed a handkerchief across hers. +Mary's glance telegraphed Tony, "This sad business may come right, after +all!" "You had better leave us, my friend," she said aloud. "Marise and +I will at least talk this over--thrash it out, and----" + +"A thrashing is just what it deserves," the girl snapped. "A thorough +thrashing!" + +"It shall have it," Mums soothed her patiently. "But we may think----" + +"Even if we did think," Marise broke out, with a sudden flash at +Severance, "what good would it do? Even if I were willing--though I +can't conceive it! What use would that be? You can't kindle a fire +without a match. There isn't a man living who'd be the match. A dummy +match!" + +"You forget the million dollars," Severance said. + +"I don't. But you admitted yourself, he must at least seem a decent man, +or the scheme would fail. No decent man----" + +"Some smart actor who fancies himself, and dreams of having his own New +York theatre," cried Severance, inspired. "With a million dollars----" + +"He'd want me to stay on the stage and star with him----" + +"Well, then, some inventor who'd sell his soul to have his invention +taken up. A million dol----" + +The phrase called back an echo in the girl's mind. "I'd sell my soul!" +What man had used those words to her that day--an hour ago?... + +Marise laughed out aloud. "An inventor!" she exclaimed. "Oh, it's easy +to generalise--to suggest someone--anyone--vaguely, in a world of men. +But if I should name one--if I should say, 'Here's the man,' you would +shudder. The thought of him in flesh and blood as my husband--dummy or +no dummy--would drive you mad--if you really love me." + +"I wouldn't let it drive me mad," Severance swore. "I'd control +myself--and control the man, too." + +"You would? Suppose I name your _bete noire_, Major John Garth?" + +Severance withered visibly. "Garth wouldn't do it," he stammered. + +"There you are!" sneered Marise. But she began to experience a very +extraordinary sensation. It was composed of obstinacy, anger, vanity, +recklessness, resentment, and several fierce sub-emotions, none of which +she made the slightest effort to analyse. Tony Severance believed that +his passion for her excused everything, because he thought it stronger +than any other man living had ever felt. But there was another man, one +at least--who thought and said the same thing of himself. + +Much as Tony hated and pretended to despise John Garth, without stopping +to reflect an instant he set the Bounder aside as one among a few men +who wouldn't stoop--who couldn't be tempted--to play so low a part as +that of a "dummy husband." Was Tony right? Or was the man he discarded +the very one who would marry her at any price? Dimly she wondered in a +sullen and heavy curiosity. + +"There are plenty of other fellows--of sorts--to choose from, without +dragging in Garth," Severance went on. "Give me leave, Marise (give me +new life, by giving me leave!), to find such a man. If I must go without +finding one here, I will search England. Or I can put it in the hands +of----" + +"No!" shrilled Mary. "In no hands but our own." + +"I wash mine of it!" cried Marise. + +"Perhaps you will think it over--the pros and cons--with me, dear," +coaxed her mother. "The wonderful future you could have with Tony, when +the clouds should pass and all those millions----" + +The girl shrugged her shoulders. And turning without another word, she +whirled away to her room. It would not have been true to nature if she +hadn't slammed the door! + +Mary prepared to follow. "Go, Tony," she ordered. "Leave the poor child +to me. All this is awful--terrible! But it isn't as if we were wishing +for Miss Ionides' death. If she's doomed.... Oh, I hear Marise crying! +Go at once--please!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE THING SHE COULD NOT EXPLAIN + + +Marise and Mary Sorel talked late that night in the girl's room. The +family breadwinner--always indulged--had not been so petted, so spoiled, +since she was threatened with _grippe_ in the first week of her great +London triumph. In those days she had shone as a bright planet rather +than a fixed star. The proud but anxious mother had feared that some +understudy might mine the new favourite's success, as Marise had mined +the toppling fame of Elsa Fortescue. The invalid had been surrounded +with the warmth of mother-love, caressed, almost hypnotised back to +health, and after a worrying day of high temperature had been encouraged +to the theatre without giving the understudy even one night's chance. +This, although that young woman was dressed and painted for the part! + +So it was again on this fateful Sunday in New York, although the most +wily Vivien of an understudy could now safely be defied. + +Mary went in to Marise the moment Severance had gone. She kissed and +cooed over her child. She flattered her. She told her that she was +beautiful and brave--_too_ beautiful! Men loved her too much. Mums +warded off an impending attack of hysterics which Marise had been +longing to have, and would have enjoyed. She said that her girl's tears +burned her heart. She kept Celine away and undressed Marise herself, +with purrings and pettings as if the girl had been three instead of +twenty-three. + +Never was a bed so sweetly smoothed to the downiness of a swan's breast! +The pillows were plumped almost with a prayer, that they might yield +soft rest to the aching head. Finally, Marise--conscious of all Mums' +guile, yet dreamily content with it--was tucked in between the scented +sheets, her "nighty" put on by Mums; her long hair brushed and braided +by Mums, as no French maid could ever braid or brush. + +"Don't think of anything yet," the loving voice soothed. "Just bask, and +let your poor old Mums watch over you. Forget you're grown up. Be +Mummie's baby girl again." + +Marise was not of a temperament to hold out against these charms and +woven spells. She cuddled down in bed, and felt an angel child. When +Mums herself brought in a tray containing a few exquisite little dishes, +she ate, though she had expected--even intended--to starve herself for +days. Then when one glass of iced champagne (she didn't touch wine twice +a year) and a tiny cup of Turkish coffee had brightened her spirits, +"poor old Mums" (looking thirty-five at most, and mild as a trained +dove) brought cigarettes for both. After that, they drifted into talk of +the future, rather than driving stormily into the teeth of it, like +tempest-tossed leaves. + +Mary confessed that, if she were in her daughter's place, it would be +anguish to give up such a wonderful, gorgeous young man. And then, he +was so handsome! No one could compare with him in looks. What eyes! They +were pools of ink, on fire! She had never known what tragedy human eyes +could express till she had gazed into those of Lord Severance to-day. +They had frightened her! If she hadn't sent the man away with a grain of +hope she believed that by this time he would be dead, his brains blown +out. One didn't take such threats from most people seriously. But Tony +was different. It was true, as he said; love was his life--love for this +one dear girl. What Mums felt was, that _she_ couldn't have resisted +him, at her daughter's age. Few women could. Few women would! + +By this time, Marise being ready for arguments, her mother engaged in a +fencing match, at first with a button on her foil, then with the point +gleaming bare. Boldly she talked of what Severance (enriched by his +uncle and a dead wife's will) would have to offer. Was he, and all that +would be his, to be thrown away for a scruple? A millionaire earl? A +unique person? + +About two a.m. Marise agreed to Mary's many-times-reiterated wish that +she would "think things over"; and promptly fell into a sleep so sound +that she looked like a beautiful dead girl. + +Miss Marks was sent away next morning by Mrs. Sorel, because "My +daughter has had a bad night, and mustn't be disturbed." It was not +until eleven o'clock that Marise waked suddenly in her darkened room, as +if a voice had called her name. She sat up in bed, dazed. Whose voice +was it? Or was it only a voice in a dream? Thinking back, it came to her +that she had been dreaming of John Garth--"Samson." With an "Oh!" that +revolted against life as it must be lived, she flung herself down again, +and remembered everything. For an hour her body lay motionless: but mind +and soul moved far. When Mums tapped lightly at the door, and peeped in +to inquire, "Do you feel like waking up, pet, and having me bring you a +cup of delicious hot coffee? It's twelve o'clock!" she answered quietly, +"Yes, I've been awake a long time. I'd love some coffee." + +Mary brought it herself--and a covered plate of buttered toast. She +asked no question except, "Is your head better, darling?" until pale, +composed Marise had bathed, and been dressed with the aid of Celine. +Then Mums chirped cheerfully, "Well, what are you going to do to-day? +Anything important?" + +"It may be important," said Marise. "I don't know yet--till I've talked +with him. It depends on what he says. He may say nothing. He may just +bash me over the head and stalk away. He'd be capable of that." + +"What do you mean?" Mary implored. "Are you speaking of Tony?" + +"Oh no! Of a very different man. Of Major Garth." + +"Marise! What are you going to do?" + +The girl turned from her dressing-table to face her mother. "What you've +been goading me on, all last night, to do. What I shall be perfectly mad +if I _do_ do! Now, please, don't say any more--unless you want me to +scream. I'm keeping myself calm. I'd better stay calm--till after." + +Mary's breast heaved. She breathed back her emotions, as one checks a +cough. "You--talk the way you sometimes do after a dress rehearsal!" she +tried to laugh. "Before a big first night." + +"That's the way I feel," said Marise. "Like before the biggest first +night that ever was. Or before the Judgment Day." + +She knew that John Garth was staying at the Belmore. She had seen that +item in the papers--had seen it in the same day's papers which had +informed Garth that Miss Sorel was an actress. The girl began a letter, +but tore it up. Then she thought of the telephone. Two minutes later she +heard Garth's voice: "Hello! who is this talking?" + +"Marise Sorel--calling you from the Plaza. Can you come over?" + +"Yes. When?" + +"Now." + +"I'll be there as soon as a taxi can bring me." + +"Good!" + +Yet she knew that it was far from good. + + * * * * * + +"The Spring Song!--The Spring Song!" + +The name of Marise Sorel's play sang itself over and over in Garth's +brain to wild, strange music, as the taxi flashed him to the Plaza; for +there was spring in the air, in the bursting buds on the trees in the +park--and in his breast. She must have changed her mind. She must mean +to give him some hope, or she wouldn't have sent for him to come back. +That would be too cruel--even for her, as he had thought her yesterday, +when there was no spring, only winter in his heart and soul. + +It was not till he had been rushed up in the lift, and a page-boy had +knocked at the door, that the hope seemed too good to be true. Perhaps +she merely wished to apologise for being rude? Yet--even that would be +better than nothing. It was what he hadn't dared expect--being sent for +again. He had resolved to see her in spite of herself, but she was +making things easy. This time, not Celine, but Marise herself opened the +door. The sight of her gave the man a shock of joy, though she hardly +looked him in the face. + +"You're very kind to be so prompt," she glossed over the surface of +their emotions. "Come in. I--I've something special to say to you." + +"So I judged," he helped her out. + +"We shan't be disturbed by anyone to-day. I've arranged that." + +"I'm glad." + +She sat down with her back to the light and made him take a chair facing +the window. He knew too little of women to realise that this was +deliberate; but he noticed that she seemed more of a woman, less of a +girl to-day. Perhaps, he thought, this was because she wore a black +dress. It was filmy and becoming to her fairness; but it made her +graver, more dignified. As for Marise, she liked his looks better this +afternoon. He had not had time to "dress himself up"; and his morning +suit of tweed was not objectionable. She remembered once arguing with +Severance that the "Blighter" might be distinguished-looking, even +handsome, if decently dressed. She was in a fair way to be proved right +to-day, but she was in no mood for self-congratulation. The man's +personality didn't matter in the least, she told herself. Yet she was +subconsciously burning with curiosity concerning him. + +"First of all--before we start on our real talk, I'd like to ask you a +question," she began. "Did you send Miss Marks here, to--" ("to spy," +she had almost said!)--"to try and get work as my secretary?" + +"I did not," promptly replied Garth. + +"But you knew her--before yesterday." + +"I knew her out in Arizona, before the war. She'd written me since she +was working at the Belmore. That was how I happened to think of going +there before I went over to England in 1914. She's a good stenographer, +and a good girl. Since I landed she's done a lot of letters for me, and +done them very well." + +"She's clever!" admitted Marise. "I asked, because I never quite +understood now she happened to come here to see if I wanted a secretary. +Besides, there's something in her manner--the way she looks at me--I +hardly know what--but as if she had reasons of her own for being +interested----" + +"Perhaps she had. And perhaps it's my fault," Garth spoke out. "You see, +I'd set my heart on sending you a few presents, something not just +ordinary. It popped into my head to do that the day I landed. Reading +about you in the papers gave me the idea. But it didn't seem easy, when +it came to choosing. Miss Marks began work for me that same afternoon, +for I had a heap of back correspondence, and I hate writing. I couldn't +keep my mind on the dictation for wondering what I could send you, +different from everything and better than anything. That's how I said to +myself, 'Why not ask Zelie Marks what there is to buy in New York?' And +that is what I did." + +"I thought as much!" exclaimed Marise. + +"But I didn't tell her about you. I didn't mention who the things were +for. I just described the lady. I said, 'She's beautiful, with golden +hair and blue eyes, and dark eyelashes and dazzling white skin. She's +tall and slender, and I expect she's rich and has everything she wants. +The things I'd like to give her must be so new she hasn't had time to +want them yet, but so stunning she won't know how she lived without +'em.' Miss Marks hit on the right stunt from the first. Your name has +never been spoken between us till yesterday, when we went out of this +room together. I suppose you believe me, don't you?" + +"Yes, I believe you," Marise grudged. "Miss Marks simply guessed. But I +wonder how? Could she have seen your theatre tickets--seats for every +performance of 'The Song'?" + +"By George, yes! She may--must have done. I ordered them the first day +at my hotel. They were in a bunch, tickets for three weeks, fastened +with an elastic band, on the desk where she worked. I've got a private +sitting-room, like a howling swell." + +"So Miss Marks chose all those exquisite things!" + +"She told me about 'em, and where to look. Then I went, and picked out +in my mind's eye what I wanted. I always had a messenger-boy waiting in +a taxi, and sent him in to buy, and pay on the spot, for fear someone +else should jump in ahead. That kept up the mystery. I didn't care to +have you find out at once that the things came from me. I was afraid it +would queer the whole business for you." + +"So it would!" Marise might have capped him. But she did not. Instead, +she asked, "But surely you meant me to know sooner or later--or where +would be the fun?" + +"There was plenty of fun in sending the presents and knowing the secret +myself," said Garth. "Silly, I guess! But there it was! And--I might as +well tell you now--I did kind of hope you'd try to get at the truth, one +way or another, just from pure devilment." + +"You were right. I did! 'Just from pure devilment.' In the same way that +Miss Marks got work with me. She must have been enjoying herself these +days!" + +"She's a nice girl," Garth defended the absent. + +"Oh, I don't mean to discharge her. There's no reason why I should. +She's useful to me. I shan't seem to know anything about this. But I +wanted to ask you." + +"I'm mighty pleased you did," said the man. "I'd have been--just what +your friend calls me, if I'd sent her to get an engagement with you." + +Colour stole into Marise's pale cheeks. She had been more interested in +the subject of her secretary's connection with Garth than she had +expected to be when bringing it up, and for a few minutes had actually +forgotten the loathed burden on her heart. + +"Let's say no more about Miss Marks!" the girl exclaimed. "My inviting +you to call to-day had nothing to do with her. I only thought I'd--clear +the air." + +"Is it cleared now?" Garth wanted to know. "I hope it is. If not----" + +"Oh, it is--quite!" + +"Then you're ready to tell me the real thing you have to say?" + +"Ye--es.... Only I...." She paused. Her lips had gone so dry that she +could hardly speak. Her brain felt dry, too--desiccated. She had not +thought it would be like this. Stage-fright--the worst attack of +stage-fright she could remember--had not been worse. Yet she cared +little or nothing for this man's opinion, she reminded herself, except +as it concerned the plan. "I--it's very difficult." + +"Is there anything I can do to help?" he offered eagerly. + +Marise caught at his words. "That's just it! There's a very big thing +you can do to help." + +"You know I'll do it," Garth volunteered. "You know that, because +there's nothing I wouldn't do. I told you so yesterday." + +"If you hadn't, I should not have sent for you to-day." + +"I wish you wanted me to kill somebody for you." (She guessed, by the +fierce gleam in his eyes, what "body"!) "I'd go to 'the chair' singing." + +"Oh!" she laughed feebly. "It's not as bad as that." (But wasn't it?) +"You--you said several things here yesterday afternoon. One was, that +you----" + +"That I love you! Was that what you mean?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, it's the same to-day. Only more so." + +"Even after--I'm afraid I was very selfish and thoughtless. I wasn't as +nice to you as I ought to have been, after I'd got you to come, +and--and----" + +"You weren't nice to me at all," Garth gave her the truth bluntly. "I +went away trying to hate you, but I didn't bring it off. Hate, if it +starts from love, is a good deal like a boomerang, I guess. It comes +back to what it was born from. And the friction stirs up the flame till +it's hotter. Now, tell me that thing I can do for you. Because the +quicker I hear what it is, the quicker I can set about it." + +Marise threw up her head and drew in a long breath. She might have done +the same if she had come, with a running jump, to the edge of a +precipice. + +"Would you--like to marry me?" she gasped. + +The man bounded from his chair, and with a stride landed himself beside +her. He had knocked over a smaller chair on the way, but this time he +was untroubled by his clumsiness. He grabbed, rather than took, the +girl's hand. She was afraid he would drop on his knees, and that would +have been more than she could bear, because it was what Severance had +done. But this stiff-backed soldier kept to his feet. He held her hand +high, so high that the blood drained from it to her heart, and the +little hand was white in his (save for the pink, polished nails) as a +marble model. "You've changed your mind?" he asked hoarsely--because his +mouth, too, was suddenly dry. "You know I love you more than any other +man could. So you think, after all, you might grow to care?" + +"It isn't that," she had to tell him. "I haven't--exactly--changed my +mind. This hasn't anything to do with 'caring.' Only, if you do love +me--as much as you say--you might be willing..." She could not finish. +She felt his fingers suddenly tighten on hers, then loose them, as if he +would dash her hand away. He did not do this. But, looking up, the girl +saw that the man's face was scarlet. She even thought that a few beads +of sweat had broken out on his forehead. What had she said to move him +like that? "Why, she hadn't even begun! + +"What is it?" she inquired. "What is it you think I mean?" Her eyes were +large and innocent as a child's. + +The blood ebbed slowly from the weathered face. "Whatever I thought, I +don't think it now," he said harshly. "No one could, and look at you. Go +on." + +"But," she argued, "perhaps what you thought was right. I can't be sure, +unless you tell me." + +"I'd sooner die than tell you." + +"Well, then I had better try and tell you what I do mean. After that you +can see if your thought was the same. If so, and you feel it is so +dreadful, you may go, and turn your back on me without another word." + +"No, I wouldn't turn my back on you. Not even for that--now." The words +left his lips heavily, like falling stones; and there was a strange look +in his face. If it had come there in battle, it might have meant +desperate courage which nothing could daunt and would have brought him a +bar for his Victoria Cross. But being in a hotel salon, with no enemy +present more dangerous than a beautiful young girl, it was only mulish. + +"Would you want to marry me if I didn't love you one bit, and if +we--didn't live together, except as friends? You and mother and I, all +in the same house?" + +He did not answer for a moment. Then he rapped out, "Do you need a +husband to protect you--against some danger?" + +Marise shook her head. "It isn't so romantic as that. No one is +persecuting me. I--cared a little for somebody. I thought maybe he and I +might be married. But things have altered with him. He has to marry a +very rich girl. I haven't got money enough, it seems--although he loves +me." + +"The damned brute!" burst from Garth. (He knew who the "brute" was, well +enough.) + +"Don't call him that," Marise pleaded. "I understand how things are with +him. But----" + +"I suppose people have coupled your names. Good God, I'm thankful you +sent for me! No one shall ever say he jilted you. It shall be the other +way round. When will you marry me, girl?" + +It was a new and piercing thought to Marise that, if Severance went home +immediately and married his cousin, people would suppose she had been +jilted. She, so sensitive to every breeze which blew praise or blame, +ought to have realised that this would be the case. + +Strange that it needed a blundering fellow like John Garth to point out +the peril. The girl saw at once that it was a real one. She shrank from +the prospect as from a lash. She could hear the "cats" who had already +been "horrid" in England, and the cats awaiting their chance to be +horrid in New York, mewing with joy over this creamy dish of scandal. + +"I told you how it would be! As soon as he got the title, and a little +money with it, he threw her over!" + +In a flash she saw a second motive for her marriage with Garth, if +Severance were to marry OEnone Ionides. She must marry someone, and +she hadn't the heart just now to pick and choose as, of course, she +could do, given a little time. Prickling with shame over the explanation +which she tried stumblingly to make, her impulse was to catch at the one +Garth offered. Why not, since now that she thought of it, his point of +view was hers? Pain would be saved for both. And she realised that she +could not blurt out the naked truth in words. It seemed to her that, if +she attempted to do so, this rude giant, this primitive man in New York +"ready-mades," would kill her, as he had already suggested killing +Severance. + +"Then you consent?" she took him up. + +"Consent? What do you think of me? Yes, I consent." + +"Only to be friends? You understand that part?" + +"I agree to that, to begin with. Because I'm so mad about you. I'd take +you at any price." + +"To 'begin with'?" + +"Till I can make you care. I'm a man and you're a woman. And the rest +may come. I'll chance it." + +"No. You mustn't hope for that. It won't come. I don't want it to come." + +"Hope isn't easy to kill. If it was, I guess the war wouldn't have ended +the way it has. You don't know how I love you. Why, the thought even of +calling you 'my wife' is--is a kind of glorious shell-shock." + +He laughed out, shyly yet violently, like a boy: and of a sudden Marise +felt sick with guilt. "I mustn't let you be happy!" she cried. + +"Why not? You needn't grudge me that. But you haven't named the day +yet--Marise. Lord! The thrill it gives me to say 'Marise' to your +face--the way I've been saying it behind your back." + +"You make me feel--a little beast!" The words spoke themselves, straight +out of her conscience. "I can't fix a time yet, because--if I'd +explained to you properly you mightn't have decided as you have. And +it's no use trying any more. I can't do it. Oh!" (as she saw his face +flush again, and pale to a sickly brown) "perhaps I see what was in your +head at first--what's come back there now. But I'm not so much of a +beast as that. My wishing to marry someone has nothing to do with the +past. No, the reason's all mixed up with the future. You could never +guess. I could never explain. And I couldn't let you marry me unless +everything had been explained. I thought for a minute I could--and I +wanted to--but I find I'm not like that. Tony--Lord Severance--must +explain. Yes, of course. When I've telephoned--no, written to him--he +will do it. I haven't really spoken to him of you yet. He doesn't even +know that--you care about me. If I make an appointment, will you call at +the Waldorf, where he is staying?" + +"No!" Garth exploded. "That I will not do. I'll see Severance, if you +insist. I'll keep an appointment at any time. But it must be at my +hotel. I'm damned if I'll call on him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +EVERY MAN HAS HIS PRICE + + +The note Marise meant to write was not written; for, as the door of the +suite shut behind John Garth, Mrs. Sorel came to the girl with news. + +"Dear child, I promised you shouldn't be disturbed, whatever happened, +but Tony has been telephoning for the sixth time to-day. Poor boy! He's +very anxious about you. Don't look so cynical! If your face should ever +settle into lines like that, your beauty would be gone! This time he +wanted to know if you're better for your long sleep, and if you can see +him." + +"No, I can't, mother! Not till something's decided. I simply can't act +to-night if I have to go through another scene with him." + +"Oh, I'm not suggesting it, pet! I merely wanted to know what I should +say to poor Tony. I told him that I'd call him up and give him his +answer when you were free." + +Marise started. "Did you say who was here with me?" + +"Ye-es, I thought it would be best. I imagined you must be very sure the +man was--the one we're in search of." + +The girl shivered. "Marise in Search of a Husband! We never expected it +would come to that with me, did we, Mums? But anyhow, I hadn't to search +far. That's one consolation! I was snapped up the minute I appeared in +the show window." + +"Well, Tony was wrong about that Garth man, then!" + +"Yes, he was wrong. I must write and let him know why Garth came--unless +you told him why?" + +"I said only what I dared say through the telephone. You know how +careful I am of anything that concerns you. What I told him was, 'Major +G----' (not even Garth!) 'has come to talk over that proposition you +thought he wouldn't accept. His staying so long makes me fancy he may be +accepting after all.' That is every word." + +"Good! I shan't need to write! Please 'phone again, Mums, and explain +that I don't feel as if I could see Tony till after the theatre. He may +come to my dressing-room a few minutes then, if he likes. You can bring +him in. I won't be alone with him for an instant! Tell him that I talked +with Garth, who's inclined to accept. But I left it to him--Tony--to +make matters clear, and he must telephone Garth for an appointment at +the Belmore--not the Waldorf." + +"Severance to go to Garth! He'll refuse----" + +"Then the whole thing is off!" Marise threw out her arms in a gesture of +exasperation. "He can take the offer or leave it." + +Mary said no more, but flew to the 'phone in her own room, with the door +shut between. Presently she came back. "Tony has consented," she +announced. "Another proof of his great love!" + + * * * * * + +Never had Lord Severance felt that he appeared to less advantage than +when he was shown into the Bounder's sitting-room at the Belmore Hotel. +He held himself very straight, however, and was every inch an Ancient +Greek, if not an English earl. + +Garth had been engaged in writing a letter and puffing smoke over it +from a meerschaum pipe some shades browner than his face. + +At sight of Severance, and the sound of his name deformed by a page-boy, +the big man rose, topping his tall guest in height and erectness. + +"Well?" was his only greeting, as the door closed. He pushed a box of +cigarettes across the table. "Those are the smokes you prefer, I +believe." + +"Thanks. I have my own. And my own matches." + +"All right." Garth continued to puff at his pipe. + +"You have seen Miss Sorel, I understand." + +"That is so." + +"She--or rather Mrs. Sorel--'phoned me that--er--though you'd had some +conversation, the--affair hadn't been entirely explained to you. That's +as it should be. It's my business, and my place, to explain it." + +"Fire away. Do you want to sit down?" + +"I prefer to stand." + +"My sentiments!" + +Severance lit a cigarette, and took some time in the process. + +"It's rather a long story," he drawled, not with a conscious desire to +put on airs, but because his wasn't an easy task, with that bounder's +yellow eyes pinning him down, never off his face for a second. + +"I'm afraid, to make you understand and prevent your doing an injustice +to Miss Sorel, I'll have to bore you, in beginning, with a short resume +of my personal history." + +"Spit it out. Though you needn't fear my doing that lady an injustice. +It would take something worse than a lack of tact on your part, or any +man's, to make me such a fool." + +"Glad you feel so about it" + +"So am I. Shoot!" + +Thus prodded without ceasing, Severance began the tale. He told about +his half-uncle, and his half-uncle's daughter. Whether it was OEnone's +state of invalidism or the state of her affections which drew from +Garth, a grunt of "Poor girl!" Tony was not sure. But, in the +circumstances, the less notice he took of disturbing trifles the better. +He stated his case with as much care as if he had been pleading in +court, as his own defender. In fact, he had rehearsed some sentences +hastily on his way from the Waldorf to the Belmore. Yet those eyes of +Garth's were as disconcerting as the watchful eyes of an uncaged +panther, alleged to be tame. Severance forgot the words he had thought +of, and had to substitute others not so effective. With the most earnest +wish to cut the best figure possible, for dear dignity's sake, he felt +himself floundering more than once. At least, however, he did not break +down. Somehow he got to his goal, and knew that even a boor like Garth +could not fail to see what--if he took on the job--was required of him. + +"So that's that!" Tony finished, and threw away his cigarette. + +He had not been looking at the other man much as he talked. It was +easier and pleasanter not to do so; but, despite Garth's silence (not +once had he interrupted with a question or exclamation), Severance +wasn't quite sure how this type of fellow would act in the +circumstances. + +Of course, the bare hint that he might accept such a part would be the +last of insults to a proud man--a gentleman. Garth, however, was merely +a "temporary gentleman," and probably hadn't saved a sou. To a person of +his sort, a million dollars would be a dazzling bribe. Still, the brute +had an ugly temper, as he had shown once or twice in the past, and he +was capable of violence. Tony was doubtful, still, how to take him. +Common as the Bounder was, his brother officer had vaguely placed him a +peg above this level. The black eyes made a sudden effort to dominate +the yellow-grey ones and read their secret, in order--if need be--to +ward away a blow. + +But there was no such need, it seemed. Garth stood with feet apart, +always doggedly puffing at his pipe, hands thrust deep in pockets. He +had produced a cloud of smoke as dense as that which emanated from a +Geni of the Lamp, and Severance could not pierce to his expression. + +For a minute neither spoke. Then Garth brought forth from the depths a +hand, removed the meerschaum from his mouth, and, having knocked out the +ash, lovingly laid the pipe on the mantelpiece. + +Severance stood alert, prepared for what might come. But nothing came. + +"What did Miss Sorel say about me?" Garth bluntly questioned. "I mean +yesterday or to-day." + +"We have scarcely mentioned you when we were together. I told you it was +her mother who telephoned me. There has been no other communication on +the subject. I hope I've made it plain to you that Mrs. Sorel approves +this plan." + +"Plain as a pikestaff. She would approve of it, or any plan of yours. I +should judge she's that kind of a person. She thinks her daughter born +for the English aristocracy and millions. Then I'm to understand that +the ladies gave you no reason for believing me the man--to take this +on?" + +"They went into no details. Miss Marks may have led them----" + +"We can drop the subject. All I wanted to know is what they said, not +what they thought. Well, a million dollars is quite a wad! And every man +has his price. I'd do a lot for a million. But in this case----" + +"Yes?" + +"I ask you to raise your bid if you wish to buy yours truly." + +"Oh, if it's a question of a few thousands----" + +"It isn't. I'll take the rest of the payment in another medium. Not +money. And I want it in advance." + +"What d'you want?" + +"You're a boxer, I believe?" + +"Not bad." + +"Heavy-weight, of course!" + +"Yes." + +"So am I. Jim Jackson trained me, and taught me most of what I know." + +"Ah! I've heard of him." + +"Most men have." + +"What are you leading up to?" + +"My advance payment for the job. I take it on only upon that one +condition." + +"I don't fully understand." + +"Well, as I just said, a million's quite a wad, and I, like every man, +have my price. Also, I've my pride. Now, you don't know the reasons I +may have for deciding to pocket that pride at the same time with your +millions. Take it that they're mercenary. What does it matter to you? +But even a gilded pill slips down easier in jam. The jam I want is a +round or two with you, man to man, no gloves. Now d'you understand?" + +"You want to fight me?" + +"A little round, I said. We ought to be pretty evenly matched." + +"It seems to me a very childish idea," said Severance. + +"May be it is. But it's my idea. And those are my terms. Refuse or +accept." + +Severance fingered his moustache in the way he had. "When do you want to +do this damned fool thing, and in what circumstances?" he hedged. + +"Now. Circumstances those of the present minute. We can take off our +coats. I suppose you don't wear corsets?" + +Severance deigned no answer to this taunt. He thought hard for an +instant. He was a good boxer, and had been complimented before the war +by Carpentier himself. Garth was unlikely to be his equal. If the ass +wanted to work off steam and save his beastly face this silly way, let +him! + +"If I consent to fight, you consent to--er----" + +"Yes, whether you or I get the best of this." + +"Done, then!" + +They tore off their coats, collars, neckties, and waist-coats. Garth had +a sullen, ugly grin on his face as he pushed back the table and cleared +the room. Severance did not know what to make of the man, but had +confidence in himself. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later the telephone-bell rang in Mrs. Sorel's room. She was +putting on hat and coat to go to the theatre with Marise, but she ran to +take up the receiver. + +"Is that your voice, Lord Severance--Tony? Why, I wasn't sure at first," +she answered an indistinct murmur at the other end. "You sound +different, somehow! What? You've had a fall? Loosened a front tooth? Oh, +my poor dear boy--your beautiful white teeth! Marise will shed tears. Of +course, you mustn't leave your rooms to-night.... Indeed, you must be +sure he's the best dentist in New York. He'll fix you up in no time.... +Why, yes, I suppose I can run in, without Marise, just for a minute ... +if it would comfort you at all.... The man Gar--said 'yes'? Well, that's +a consolation! You settled the whole thing before your accident? But +you'll tell me the story when I come." + + * * * * * + +For the first time, Garth did not go to the theatre that night. Never +had he felt more physically fit, but he did not wish to see Marise. He +felt that he would not be master of himself, through her "great scene" +in the last act. He would want to spring on the stage and choke her. As +he thought this, he looked at his knuckles. They were cracked and +bruised, but the sight did not displease him. He stretched out his arms +wide in a sweeping gesture, his hands spread palm upwards. + +"God!" he said. "I've got my chance. To punish him. To punish her, too. +Why not? The devil knows how well she deserves it. And yet--I don't +know. We shall see!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +"HAVE YOUR CAKE AND EAT IT, TOO!" + + +While two men thought violently of Marise Sorel, she lay in bed as night +wore on, intent upon thinking of one of them, and inadvertently thinking +of both. + +Severance hadn't shown himself at the theatre because, thanks to Garth, +he was not looking his best. Neither was Garth, who, on the contrary, +looked and felt his worst. Unlike Severance, however, he had very little +personal vanity; and a black eye or so would not have prevented him from +going as usual to gaze at "Dolores." He did not go because he didn't +wish to go. + +Smoking pipe after pipe, he prowled up and down his own sitting-room far +into the night, much to the annoyance of a lady on the floor below. He +mapped out a future full of revenges; and if "thoughts were things," his +must have hurled themselves like Mills bombs into Marise's room, to +burst at the foot of her bed. He did not flatter himself that they would +reach so far; yet possibly it was some disturbing telepathic influence +which forced Marise to think of Garth as often as of Severance, almost +as often as she thought of herself. + +She thought with fury of Severance, with extraordinary curiosity of +Garth, and with pitying forgiveness of herself. + +Of course, she knew that she was behaving, or planning possibly to +behave, in a way which should bow her head with shame. Perhaps she was a +little ashamed. At all events, she wouldn't have liked people to know +what she contemplated doing, and with what motive. They might +misunderstand. They might think her a bad lot, whereas she was not a bad +lot, but a charming, cruelly-wounded girl who had to defend herself at +almost any price. + +Well, she wasn't claiming to be an _angel_! She'd hate to be one. It +would be too dull. But she was just as far from being a "Vamp," or even +a sort of up-to-date Becky Sharp. Becky Sharp had no heart. She, Marise, +had too much. That was the trouble. She was hurt, hurt through and +through! She'd go mad if she didn't do something desperate. + +To marry this Garth man--actually _marry_ him!--would be desperate +enough. She'd said that she'd do it. She had--yes, actually proposed to +him. But she could change her mind. Surely he wouldn't be surprised if +she did. And if he were surprised it didn't matter, except that--he was +such a strange sort of fellow, he might _kill_ her! It was rather a +wonder he hadn't killed Tony--or tried to. She would somehow have +fancied he was that _sort_! But she must have been mistaken in him. Mums +said that Tony'd said (through the 'phone) that Garth had accepted the +promise of a million dollars for--for being what she'd herself invited +him to be: her "dummy" husband. + +What was his motive? Was it what she had actually believed: that he +loved her so wildly he'd do _anything_ to get her? Or was Tony right; +had every man his price in hard cash? + +Marise sat up in bed. She couldn't lie still! + +"By Jove, I wouldn't do such a thing if I were a man!" she nobly felt. +"Not if I loved a girl. I wouldn't have her on such terms. Which is it +with Garth?" + +There it was again! She couldn't banish him from her thoughts. His big +image blocked out that of Severance. But then, she wasn't curious +concerning Severance. She knew all about his motives. + +"I won't do the beastly thing!" she said out aloud, or almost aloud. If +it had been quite, it might have brought Mums flying helpfully in from +the next room, and Marise didn't want Mums at this moment. "I didn't +mean it really, even at first." + +Then she reminded herself that it wouldn't _kill_ her if people did +think that Lord Severance had jilted her. She needn't marry out of pique +because of a nine days' wonder like that. She had had plenty of +proposals (though nothing quite so exciting as Tony, perhaps), and she +was bound to have plenty more. Some millionaire would come +along--someone she could bring herself to tolerate as a real husband, +and so break Tony's heart, as he deserved. Till one worth taking +appeared, she would remain free. + +As for the title--well, Mums had always cared more about that than she +had, though, of course, it would be nice to marry an earl--especially +such a unique sort of earl as Tony Severance. + +As Mums said, "Tony _was_ unique." He was so fearfully, frightfully +good-looking. Such lots of girls wanted him. They had all envied her. If +she lost him, they wouldn't envy her any more. They'd pity her. Ugh! +They'd say, "Poor Marise Sorel thought she'd got him, but he slipped +away and married his rich cousin." + +This brought her down to bed-rock again. _Should_ she carry out the +Plan, and make Tony hers in the end--which he vowed was very near? + +There were quite a lot of earls; but none like Tony. She'd had, and +would have, other chances. But not to touch Tony. There _wasn't_ +anything to touch Tony! And with all that money he'd talked about, he'd +be a multi-millionaire. The whole world would be hers as his wife. +Yet--there was "many a slip 'twixt cup and lip." Just supposing--oh +well, she wouldn't think of it any more. It was maddening, agonising. +She'd go to sleep and decide--_actually_ decide--in the morning! + +Marise flung herself down desperately, and burying her hot head in the +cool pillows, she forced herself not to think. + + * * * * * + +When she waked, it was with the sensation that something hateful had +happened or was going to happen. + +What was it? _Oh!_... + +The girl remembered the horrid thing, and how she had decided to keep +free and punish Tony. Or had she quite decided? Hadn't she put off +deciding? + +How dull as lead it would be to give up this tremendous adventure to +which she'd impulsively pledged--_almost_ pledged!--herself! It might be +a shocking and repulsive thing to do if some people did it, but it +wouldn't, of course, be so with her. + +Lots of people had said that "Dolores" was a coarse, unpleasant part +when Elsa Fortescue had played it, but no one had said such a word when +she had taken it over. On the contrary! + +As this thought passed through her badly aching head, Marise dimly +realised that marriage with Major Garth--accepting him as a dummy +husband, having to fight him, perhaps; "seeing what he would do," +whether he would try the old Claude Melnotte or Petruchio stuff, or +whether he'd work up new business of his own--would be quite the most +exacting emotional part for which she'd ever been cast. + +Suddenly she saw how she could punish Tony severely, even though she +fell in with his plans; how she could have that satisfaction, and at the +same time the satisfaction of not losing him. + +"It's like having your cake and eating it too!" she thought. + +She _would_ marry Garth. She'd marry him soon--_much_ sooner than Tony +meant--as soon as a license could be got. She'd send for Garth and tell +him so. She'd say _she_ knew no more about marriage licenses than dog +licenses. That sounded rather smart! He must find out and arrange +everything. The quicker the better. Tony shouldn't hear a thing about it +till too late. Then he would be _sick_! And in this way _he_ would seem +to be the jilted one. Splendid! His trip to England would be torture. +And she'd make it a little worse by flirting with Garth under his nose +before he sailed! + +It was scarcely light when she settled all this. Then she could hardly +wait till it was time to get up. + +Strange! To many people this would be a day like any other! To Celine, +to Zelie Marks--ah, _Zelie Marks_! + +The eyes of Marise flashed like blue stars in the dawn. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +"CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET?" + + +Miss Marks was punctual that morning, as usual. + +She looked like a creature of moods and storms and sudden revolts, but +her behaviour as a typist-stenographer belied her appearance as a woman. +Not only was she always on time, but she was invariably correct in her +deportment. Yes, "deportment" was the word! No other would have enough +dignity to express Miss Marks. + +As a rule, Mrs. Sorel came into the salon soon after the arrival of the +secretary, leaving no idle interval after the preparation of paper, +pencils, and sorting of letters. Zelie Marks remembered only one +occasion when Miss Sorel had appeared before her mother. That was the +day when she was anxious to find a certain letter in the bulky pile of +correspondence, and make sure that no eye spied it save her own. + +Zelie happened to be thinking of that affair to-day, when the door of +Marise's bedroom opened and a Vision showed itself upon the threshold. +"Good morning, Miss Marks," it said. + +"Good morning, Miss Sorel," echoed its paid employee. + +The said employee would not have been human had she never felt qualms of +envy of the Vision. Sometimes it was merely a negative discomfort like a +grumbling tooth that doesn't quite ache. Sometimes it was sharply +positive; and this was such a moment. Queer! Zelie always envied Marise +most when she saw the girl in what Mrs. Sorel called "undress uniform." + +There were few young women even among wage-earners who couldn't make a +fairly brave show in a neat tailor gown or a "Sunday best" for Church +Parade. But only the Truly Rich could have such heavenly "undies," and +only the young and lovely--lovely of figure as well as of face--could +look in them more thrilling than the wondrous wax ladies in shop +windows, or the willowy dreams of line-artists in fashion magazines. + +Zelie had never had, and felt that she never would have (though she was +sure she _ought_ to have!) such things as Marise Sorel wore in her +bedroom. They were utterly absurd, almost indecent, she told herself. +What could be more idiotic for cold weather than a pale pink, +low-necked, short-sleeved chiffon nightgown, with the only solid thing +about it a few embroidered wild roses! What more brainless than a _robe +de chambre_ of deeper pink silk georgette, trimmed with sable fur in all +the places where fur couldn't possibly give warmth? + +She, Zelie Marks, wore comfortable delaine night-dresses at this time of +year, and wadded kimonos. She respected herself for her economy and good +sense. But she wished she were Miss Sorel! + +"Miss Marks," said Marise, "can you keep a secret?" + +Zelie smiled. "In my work, I have to keep a good many." + +"I suppose you do! Well, will you keep one for me?" + +"Certainly." + +"That's a promise! Now--I shall surprise you very much." + +Zelie smiled politely, and waited. + +"I'm--going to be married." + +"Pardon me, Miss Sorel," said Zelie, in rather a stilted, professional +manner, "but that doesn't surprise me at all." + +"You haven't heard the name of the man yet." + +"No. You haven't _told_ me that." + +"You mean, you believe you've guessed?" + +"I hope you don't think me presumptuous?" + +"Of course not! Why should it be--such a long word? Guessing's free! But +I wonder if you _have_ guessed?" + +Zelie allowed herself to look slightly bored. If Miss Sorel were going +to be married, and leave for England, she wouldn't want a secretary +long, so there was no need to grovel! "Do you wish me to try?" she asked +primly. + +"Yes." + +"The Earl of Severance." + +Marise had known she would say that, yet she blushed. "Lord Severance +and I are quite old pals," she replied. "This is something much newer +and more exciting! I'm going to marry your friend Major Garth." + +There were few warmer-hearted girls, few who hated more to give pain, +than Marise, yet as she spoke she fixed her eyes--minx-like, if not +lynx-like--on the face of Miss Marks. Even when she saw it go pale--that +greenish pallor of olive complexions--and then a dull, unbecoming red +which gave the dark eyes a bloodshot effect, she wasn't conscious of +repentance for what she had done. She had an odd, unpleasant feeling +that Miss Marks had no right to turn pale and red about a man _she_ was +going to marry. So instead of softening, she went on, hard as nails. + +"Don't forget it's a _great_ secret. I want to spring a surprise on +_everyone_. Will you please 'phone him--Major Garth--at the Belmore for +me? I haven't got time now to call him myself. Just ask him to come +round in three-quarters of an hour. I'll have had my coffee and be +dressed by then, if I rush." + +"Very well, Miss Sorel," agreed Zelie, controlling her voice. After +which she added, "I hope you'll allow me to congratulate you." + +Marise laughed a funny little laugh. "Thanks! But doesn't one 'wish joy' +to the bride and '_congratulate_' the bridegroom?" + +By this time Zelie was at the telephone, but she turned, and her black +eyes darted at Marise one small flame of the fire in her heart. "I wish +you joy, of course," she said. "But I _must_ congratulate you too, +because I've known Ja--Major Garth since before the war, and I know what +he _is_. He's _great_! If you lumped together most of the best men +you've met, they wouldn't make _one_ John Garth!" + +"Ha ha! he _is_ very big!" giggled Marise. "Quite an out-size." + +Zelie could have boxed the ears under the delicious boudoir cap. They +deserved to be boxed! + +"His _soul_ is big!" the older girl snapped. "I only hope you--I mean, +there aren't many women capable of appreciating him. But, of course, you +must be, or you wouldn't have succumbed to him so soon." + +"Succumbed!" Marise flung back the word with just the least shrug of her +shoulders. For an instant the two glared at each other, though "glare" +is a melodramatic word which doesn't chime well with nicely-brought-up +girls in the twentieth century. When Marise, as a child, had looked at +anyone in that way, she called it "snorting with her eyes." + +Now, it was only for a third of a second. Then Miss Marks applied +herself to the telephone, and never had her neat back looked so square +and business-like. There was no more time to waste upon useless +repartees with a secretary, so Marise bolted to her own room. + +She meant and wished to be dressed and fed in three-quarters of an hour, +but never had she quite brought off that feat--at least, never since +she'd become a successful star; and she didn't quite bring it off now. +Her hair was being done when Mums tapped and entered upon the scene. She +looked grave and rather worried, though she never actually frowned, for +fear of wrinkles. + +"That man Garth has come," she announced in a low voice. "What an hour +for a call! Do you wish to see him?" + +"I sent for him," Marise explained. "Didn't he tell you? Or haven't you +spoken to him?" + +"I have spoken to him, but he didn't tell me," said Mary Sorel. "I came +into the salon, and there he was with Miss Marks. I was never so +surprised in my life!" + +"I don't see why, as you know perfectly well I'm going to marry him," +returned Marise. "Oh, Celine! you've dug a hairpin about an _inch_ into +my head! Now mind, whatever you hear us say must go no further." + +"But certainly not, Mademoiselle," vowed Celine, who spoke excellent +English, though the two ladies loved proudly to air their French for her +benefit. "It is indeed true that Mademoiselle will marry this _Monsieur +American_?" + +"It is indeed true," Marise repeated drily. + +"It won't take place--I mean the wedding--for some time, however," Mrs. +Sorel hurried to add. + +Marise said nothing, but looked suddenly as mulish as a beautiful girl +can look. She had been wondering whether or no to confide in Mums what +was in her mind, and see what Mums would say and think about it. But on +the instant she decided "_No_." She _knew_ beforehand what Mums would +think and say. Everything would be from Tony's point of view. Mums was +obsessed with the wonder and majesty and glory of the great--soon to be +the rich--Lord Severance! The news should be sprung on Mums at the last +moment, when everything was "fixed up." + +Meanwhile, Zelie was snatching a few words with Garth--not the words she +wanted personally to speak, but as nearly those as she dared. + +"Jack Garth!" she whispered, "Miss Sorel told me just now you and she +are going to be _married_. She wasn't _joking_?" + +"I hope not," said Garth steadily, "because I'd be--rather cut up if I +thought it was a joke." + +"Listen, Jack," Zelie hurried on. "We're pals--we've been pals for a +long time. I _want_ you to be happy. I'd do a whole lot to make you +happy. So you've just _got_ to forgive me if I say.... _Do_ you know +what you're doing? _Can_ you be happy? That girl--I mean, Miss +Sorel--doesn't love you any more than she does me. And that isn't a +_little_ bit!" + +"I love her," said Garth. "I don't care a damn whether I'm happy or +not." + +"Oh! Then it's all right. Of course, I _suppose_ you know your own +business. Still--Jack--I can't help feeling there's something +queer--some sort of mystery. Don't let yourself be deceived." + +"I'm not being deceived." + +"I hope not, I'm sure. But--oh, _do_ forgive me!--it's Lord Severance +she loves." + +"Then the sooner she unloves him the better it will be all around." + +"I know you think I'm a meddler. But remember we're friends. Remember +Mothereen told me to be your friend, Jack. Those two Sorel women think +Severance the perfect beau ideal of a man. They look upon you--oh, I +can't say it!" + +"You needn't," Garth drily assured her; "I'm a cad; a bounder; a lout." + +"The _beasts_! I hate them both!" Zelie gasped. "They're not worthy to +black your boots." + +"I mostly wear brown ones," said Garth. + +"You're right to snub me. I won't say any more. You must go your own +way, and I hope--I hope with all my heart" (Zelie choked a little) +"you'll never regret it. But just this _one_ thing let me beg you to do. +Whatever they're up to, don't give them the chance to despise you. I +mean, in little things. They _can't_ in big! I saw the way they looked +at--at your clothes Sunday afternoon, Jack. I could have _thrown_ +something at them!--not the clothes, but the Sorels--and Severance, the +conceited Greek snob! But the clothes _weren't_ right, boy. They didn't +do you justice. They had a sort of 'Sunday-go-to-meeting' look: kind of +_smug_! And your gloves and shoes _just_ the wrong yellow! For heaven's +sake don't lose a minute in going to a good tailor if you don't want +your life to be a hell!" + +Garth laughed out, a hard, spasmodic laugh; and at that instant Marise +came in. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +MARISE PUTS ON BLACK + + +A girl in love with one man, flinging herself at the head of another out +of pique or something worse, should have been utterly careless how she +appeared to the eyes of the latter. But for some reason--she hardly knew +what--Marise had been anxious to look her most desirable. She was +dressed in black velvet with shimmering fringes, and a drooping black +velvet hat which made her fairness dazzling, her yellowish-brown hair +bright gold. + +With a faint smile, and in silence, she held out her hand. Garth took +it, and this time didn't crush it unduly. + +Zelie, who had risen as Garth rose, began pinning on her toque, but +Marise turned to her. "Don't go, Miss Marks," she said. "I've told you +the secret, and maybe we shall need your help about something. I don't +want my mother here till everything's arranged. It doesn't matter about +you." + +Zelie slowly took out a hatpin. Oh no, it didn't matter about _her_! She +laid the toque down again, but drew a chair to the typewriter table, her +back turned to the man and the girl. She could, if she glanced up from +her papers, however, see them both in a mirror. She tried not to glance +up, but she succeeded about half as often as she failed. The look on +Garth's face hurt a great deal worse than the hatpin had done when just +now she had jammed the point of it into her head. Oh, it was +ridiculous--or heartbreaking--the way some men loved the wrong girls! + +"I've been thinking in the night," said Marise in a brisk, cheerful +tone, "what fun for us--since we _are_ to be married--to get married at +once and give everyone we know the surprise of their young lives!... +What do you say?" + +Garth had not expected this at all. In fact, when he'd been sent for at +a very early hour, he expected to hear that Marise had "changed her +mind." It was easy for her to ask "what he said," knowing that he could +say only commonplaces before Zelie Marks; and he believed that Zelie had +been invited to remain in the room for precisely this reason. + +"I say, 'Great!'" He rose to the occasion, with the memory of Zelie's +words and his own drumming through his head. "They despise you. Cad: +bounder: lout!" "That's nice of you!--very!" cooed Marise, noticing how +his jaw squared, and feeling the tide of her curiosity rise. (_Was_ it +love? Or _was_ it the million?) "Well then, we'll just do the deed! How +long does it take to get licenses and things?" + +Garth kept himself firmly in hand. "Only as long as it takes to buy the +license and notify a parson." + +"That's what I hoped," said Marise. "I felt sure it was different here +from England." + +"Shall we--that is, would you care"--(Garth's mouth was dry)--"would you +care to be married to-day?" + +"Yes," the girl flashed back, "I would care to, if that suits you. +Because, you see, I want it to be done and over before--_anybody knows_. +Except my mother, of course. She won't like the idea one bit. But I'll +make her come round." + +"I see," said Garth. And he did see. He saw very clearly. But he could +not understand, all in a moment like this, why she wanted to marry him +without letting Severance know beforehand. It didn't _seem_, just on the +face of it, a good sign for Severance. Still, he couldn't be sure. Women +were supposed to be very subtle, and he'd never had much time even to +try and analyse the strange creatures. Except Mothereen (he'd named her +that because she was Irish), the little old woman who'd given him the +only mothering he remembered, Garth had never got very near any woman's +mentality. He braced himself, and asked, "How soon can you be ready?" + +"In an hour--in _less_ than an hour. As soon as I've told Mums," Marise +spoke quickly and thickly, over a beating heart. Each moment excited her +more and more. She felt herself the heroine of a thrilling drama--a +drama where she had to play the star part without any rehearsals, and +without ever having read further than the first scene of the first act. +It might be a drama of "stunts," too--as the movie people said: +dangerous stunts, where she might have to walk a tightrope with a deep +drop underneath. But she wasn't afraid. She would not have thrown over +the part now if some other easier one with the same ending had offered. +She didn't recognise herself as she was to-day. But she did not care. It +was all Tony's fault. Or perhaps a little Mums' fault too. + +"And afterwards?" she heard Garth quietly asking. + +"Oh!... Well, the first thing is the fun of surprising everyone. After +that--well, I haven't exactly thought yet." + +"You had better think," he said. "Much better." + +Marise glanced at the back of Zelie's head, then met Miss Marks's eyes +in the mirror. + +"We'll talk it over presently with Mums. She's so _wise_--and always +knows how to do the right thing." The "correct thing" would have been +more apt an expression, but Marise wasn't thinking of the fine shades. +She was thinking just then more of Zelie; and the thought of Zelie made +her blush, she didn't quite see why! + +"Miss Marks," she said, "I may want you by and by to take down several +notes for me, letters to some of my most intimate friends, to be sent +after--after the wedding. But at this particular instant I fancy there's +nothing more for you to do, except--oh yes, do be very nice, and run +down to the mail counter, or wherever in the hotel you can buy stamps." + +As these instructions were being given, Zelie pencilled with incredible +quickness a few words on a scrap of paper. This scrap she tucked up her +sleeve, and a second or two later, as Garth opened the door for her to +go out, she contrived to slip the paper into the hand on the knob. + +"Now I'll call Mums," cried Marise, fearing to risk such a moment alone +with this unclassified wild animal, soon to become her dummy husband. +"Mums is not pleased, because I said I wanted a few words with you +before she came in--though she'd be _much_ crosser if she knew I'd let +Miss Marks stay. You'll back me up with her, won't you, that my +plan--_ours_, I mean--is the best?" + +"I think," said Garth, "you don't need much backing from me with your +mother, though if you do, I'll give it as well as I know how. But wait a +second before she comes. I have a superstition. I ask that you won't be +married in black." + +"Oh! But I chose this dress on purpose!" The words escaped before she'd +stopped to think. + +Garth didn't flush. He was past that. He needed all his blood at his +heart. "I supposed you did," he said. "All the same, don't wear it." + +"But it's such a pretty dress--and hat. They're new. I like them--better +than anything I've got." + +"_For this occasion!_ I understand." + +"Are you--being sarcastic?" Marise hesitated. + +"No-o. Only sincere. Why did you want to wear black to be married--to +me?" + +"I--don't know." She stammered a little. + +"Well then, if you don't know, change to another colour." + +"Oh, I'm quite willing to do that if you make a point of it!" + +The man's manner was so different from the other day, that Marise was +less sure of his motives in taking her at the price. He spoke shortly +and sharply now, like a military martinet, she decided. But he _wasn't_ +exactly "common." He wasn't even ordinary. + +Her last words were at the door of her own room, and she whisked +through, to find her mother. She thought how she should break the news. +And she thought, also, what she should wear in place of the black dress. +Should she put on grey--or heliotrope--"second mourning"? She would have +liked to try this trick upon Garth. But the man was capable of making +her take off one thing after the other, on pain of not being married +to-day--which meant, not spiting Severance. + + * * * * * + +Mrs. Sorel was flabbergasted. + +She would not have used such a vulgar expression herself; but that is +what she was. + +She argued, she warned, she scolded, she besought. Severance would be +furious. It would be a blow which his love might not survive. Tony had +not dreamed of this marriage taking place with such--indecent haste! + +"If you say much more it won't take place at all!" shrilled Marise, on +the verge of hysterics, which (Mums knew from bitter experience) her +twentieth-century child was not at all above having when thwarted, just +like an early Edwardian. + +While Marise was away, Garth opened the folded scrap of paper that Zelie +Marks had slipped into his hand, and read the line she had pencilled. + + "For _goodness'_ sake don't be married in those awful best + clothes of yours that you wore Sunday. Put on the uniform of + the _Guards_, and look a regular man." + +He was in no mood for laughing, yet he grinned. "And look a regular +man!" ... Girls were queer. As if it would matter to Marise what _he_ +wore! But--well, hang it, why shouldn't he make her notice him? She +would do that if he turned up in uniform. And wasn't that what he wished +to look in her eyes, "A regular man"? + +He'd made up his mind to take Zelie's tip, when suddenly he remembered +that Marise and he would not be married in church. They'd walk into some +parson's parlour, and the knot would be tied there. He couldn't get into +his uniform for a home-made affair like that. + +Garth had gone no further than this when Marise came back, chaperoned by +Mums. + +"My mother makes one stipulation," the girl announced. "That the wedding +shall be in a church. She's picked up English ideas, and thinks anything +else 'hardly respectable.' Though I should have thought for that reason +it would be more appropriate! However, _I_ don't care. Do you?" + +"Not a da--not a red cent," said Garth. + +Two minutes later he had gone to buy a marriage license, engage the +services of a clergyman--and a _church_. + +Marise changed her dress. She would not wear white, like a _real_ bride. +That would be sacrilege, she said; and compromised by putting on her +favourite blue. But it was the oldest dress she owned; and she had +intended giving it to Celine. + +The girl wished she were pale. But that could be arranged. And she was +arranging it with powder when the bell of the telephone rang. + +Mums flew to the instrument, tearfully drawing on her gloves. + +Garth had called up, to give the name of the church and the hour fixed +for the wedding. They must start at once. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE CHURCH DOOR + + +Celine was a fervent admirer of Lord Severance. Half Greek, she had +heard him called. To her he was wholly Greek: a Greek god. Indeed, he +was miles handsomer than "_cet Apollon en marbre_" adorning a pedestal +in the salon, which statue she tried to drape tastefully with climbing +flowers each morning. His lordship's nose was much the same as Apollo's; +so was his proud air of owning the world and not caring particularly +about it: and to Celine's idea he had more to be proud of than a mere +god who went naked. + +Gods had no pockets, and Lord Severance had many, beautifully flat yet +containing banknotes with which he was generous when nobody looked. +Since she could not marry him, Celine wanted Mademoiselle to do so, for +Mademoiselle was her _alter ego_. She shared Mademoiselle's glory and +her dresses. She wished to be maid to a countess--a _chic_ countess, as +the wife of Milord Severance would be. It was desolating that +Mademoiselle should throw everything over because of a silly quarrel (it +must be a quarrel!) and fling herself away on a gawky giant whose +clothes might have been made by a butcher! + +Yes, it was easy to see that there had been an upheaval of some sort. +Mademoiselle was not the same since Sunday afternoon, when this huge +personage had arrived by appointment, and Celine had recalled seeing him +on shipboard. To be sure, Milord had come in later, and outstayed the +Monsieur. But it was then the quarrel must have occurred, for +Mademoiselle had been in a state unequalled even after the most trying +dress rehearsals. Oh, it was a mystery--a mystery of the deepest +blackness! + +Celine moaned aloud, with a bleating noise, and gabbled _argot_ as she +tidied the belongings which Mademoiselle had flung everywhere. + +"If I should call up Milord, how would that be?" she asked herself, and +rushed to the 'phone. + +Severance, as it happened, had been on the point of telephoning Mrs. +Sorel, not daring to attempt direct communication with Marise. He had +bad news and good news to give. The bad was that he must sail for +England sooner than expected, in fact, on the following day, or perhaps +not get a cabin for weeks. + +The good news was that a friend had offered to lend him a wonderful +house near Los Angeles for the next few months. He had spoken to a +certain Lady Fytche (_nee_ Adela Moyle, of California) about his +marriage, and bringing OEnone across for her health. Whereupon Adela +(who was at his hotel, and sailing on his ship) said, "I'd love to lend +you Bell Towers. The house is standing empty, and you know it's rather +nice." + +Severance did know, for Bell Towers was a famous place, illustrated in +magazines; and if Adela Moyle had been prettier, it might have become +his own before she fell back--figuratively speaking--upon a baronet. + +If Marise would give up the stage (he couldn't bear to leave her behind +the footlights in New York, admired, interviewed, gossipped about by +Tom, Dick and Harry!), he'd lend Bell Towers to Mrs. Sorel, and the girl +could vanish from public view till time for her farcical marriage and +his own return. If his uncle could be told by himself and the newspapers +that Miss Sorel was _engaged_ to Major Garth, it would be enough to cool +the old boy's suspicions. + +Then, as Tony's hand was stretched out for the receiver, came a ring at +the telephone. + +"The dentist!" he thought. For he had had to ask for a second +appointment because of that loosened tooth, and was to be called up. It +came as a surprise, therefore, to hear Celine's voice. + +He could hardly believe the news which the French maid gave him. Marise +wouldn't do such a thing! There must be a mistake, he told Celine. Or it +was a clumsy joke. + +"_Milord, c'est la verite_," came the answer. "Milord need not take my +word. Let him go to the church. Milord may yet be in time. But he must +make haste. It is a long way. I heard Madame telephone and talk." + +"I will go--I'll do my best," Severance answered, to put the woman off. +But--what _could_ he do? What was his "best"? + +Celine knew nothing of the secret pact. She judged from what she had +overheard, and he could not explain that he didn't see his way to stop +the marriage. + +The more he thought, the more clear it became that this sudden move by +Marise was a caprice to spite him--to "hoist him from his own petard." +Severance could almost hear the girl defend herself. "You ought to be +pleased that I took you at your word, before you went away. Otherwise I +might have changed my mind about the whole thing!" + +She was sure to say this, and even if he reached the church in time he +wouldn't dare stop the business when it had gone so far. That devil +Garth had a beast of a temper; and a fellow can't at the same moment see +red, and which side his bread is buttered! + +Severance hated Garth venomously since the episode at the Belmore. But +the brute was a hero in the States, and would pass in the public eye as +a reasonable husband for Marise Sorel. + +Nobody who didn't know the ugly truth would say, "How _could_ that +beautiful girl throw herself away on that _worm_?" + +Whatever Garth was, he wasn't a worm. Though he had apparently made no +bones of accepting a million-dollar bribe, deep within his subconscious +self Severance didn't believe that the million was the lure. Garth was +in love with the girl, in his loutish way. Perhaps, even, he might hope +to win some affection from her in return. Tony felt that he need wish +the fool no worse than an attempt to "try it on"! + +Force, Severance did not fear. Marise was no flapper. She had her eyes +open. She'd know how to handle a man in Garth's position. Besides, Mums +would be at her side, a pillar of strength. Tony even felt that in some +ways Garth was ideal for the part he had to play. Marise would always +contrast him unfavourably with the man she loved. And hating Garth, +he--Severance--could enjoy the tortures which the paid dummy was doomed +to suffer. + +Severance could not keep away from the church. To go was undignified, +yet he knew that he would go.... Five minutes after his talk with +Celine, Tony was in the lift, descending ten storeys of his hotel to the +gilding and marble of the ground floor. As in a dream, he ordered a +taxi. It came; and--self-conscious, as if he were being married +himself--he directed the chauffeur where to drive. Then, still as in a +dream, he stared at his reflection in a small mirror, which bobbed as +the taxi bounced. It was a consolation to see how handsome and +superlatively smart he looked! + +He had abandoned his uniform in New York for every-day life; but he was +sure that no man in America had clothes to compare in cut with his, +which had been built at just the right place in Savile Row. His silk hat +was a masterpiece. His tie, his socks, and the orchid in his buttonhole +were all of the same shade, and his opal pin repeated the lights and +shades of colour. + +Well, there was one good thing he _could_ accomplish by turning up at +the church. Silently he would show Marise the contrast between a man who +was everything he ought to be, and a man who was everything no man +should be and live! + +The chauffeur slowed at last before a church which looked more English +than American, and was perhaps a relic of colonial days. "You can wait," +said Severance, getting out. "I may ..." But he forgot the rest. In the +porch stood two men, who had evidently just arrived and were talking. It +was more like a dream than ever to see a familiar uniform which at a +glance took Severance home. Both men wore it. The fighting khaki of his +own regiment of the Guards! + +The shorter of the two tall officers turned and saw him. It was his own +Colonel; and the other was Garth. Then a second taxi drove up, +containing Marise Sorel and her mother. + +Severance would have stepped to the door of their cab, but Garth was +before him. + +And so it was, with sunshine striking a line of decorations on the +V.C.'s breast, that Marise got the contrast between the men. An orchid +is beautiful; but the Victoria Cross, even expressed in ribbon, is +better. + +"Let me introduce my Colonel, Lord Pobblebrook," said Garth. "He has +brought his wife, who is American, home to this country; and when we ran +across each other this morning he offered to--to see me through here." + +"Pobbles"--of whom Marise had heard from Tony--took her hand. "We're +proud of Garth in the regiment," he said, and found time to nod to +Severance. But he looked puzzled. Why was Severance here? To the best of +Pobbles's recollection, Tony had been the ringleader in a set who wanted +to snub Garth out of the Brigade. The Colonel's curiosity woke up. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE + + +For once, Marise was all girl, not actress. She lost her _savoir faire_ +at sight of Severance, and could not speak. + +She saw him before she saw Garth and "Pobbles," and her eyes took in his +perfection of tailorhood. Then Garth came forward, and she was struck +with surprise by the uniform of the smartest soldiers in the world. + +"What an inspiration!" she thought, never guessing whence that +inspiration had come. + +Mrs. Sorel, luckily, could always speak, even chatter. She chattered +now. + +"How nice of you to come, Lord Severance," she chirped, keeping up +appearances before Lord Pobblebrook. "And how _clever_!" she added, +camouflaging for "Pobbles's" benefit her surprise that Tony should have +learned Marise's secret. How he had done that, she would wring out of +someone by and by. But at present duty bade her be pleasant to +"Pobbles." + +Trying to recall mutual friends (titled) with whose Christian names she +could impress the noble soldier, Mums had to keep a watchful eye and ear +for her girl and the two young men: but it was not for long. The +clergyman was waiting. + +"Strange, how many things you can think of at one time--especially the +wrong time!" Marise reflected, as she stood before the figure in a +surplice. + +She had often dreamed of being married, and what kind of a wedding she +would have, at St. George's, Hanover Square, or the Guards' Chapel. She +had chosen her music, and knew what sort of dress and veil she wanted. +Orchids were Tony's flowers. There was a white variety, streaked with +silver. Her train should be silver, too. She'd be leaving the stage; and +as the Countess of Severance, she could be presented. The silver train +would do for Court. + +Now, here she was, thousands of miles from Hanover Square and the +Guards' Chapel. She had on a street dress. There was no music, unless +you could count the far-off strains of a hand-organ playing an old tune, +"You made me love you, I didn't want to do it!" The one orchid was in +Tony's buttonhole; and he was in a pew looking on while she promised to +love, honour and obey another man. + +Marise saw the two pictures--the dream and the reality; and the +difference made her sick. All the sense of wild adventure was gone. +There was _no_ adventure! There was just blank ruin. + +What a fool she had been! Was there no way out, even now? Surely there +was one. She could still say "No," instead of "Yes," and there'd be an +end, where Garth was concerned. + +Perhaps on the spur of the moment Marise would have followed her +impulse, if--Lord Pobblebrook hadn't been present. Somehow, before him +she couldn't make a scene! + +The girl felt as if two unseen influences had her by the arm, one on the +right, one on the left, like the white and black angels of the +Mohammedan. They pulled both ways at once, and trembling as she never +had trembled on a first night at the theatre, she looked up at Garth. + +There was an odd expression in his yellow-grey eyes, which she had +likened to the eyes of a lion in a Zoo who sees nothing save his far-off +desert. This lion was not now thinking of the desert. He was thinking of +her. But how? As a piece of meat which he would soon be free to devour? +Or--as a new keeper who, though young and a woman, would have to be +reckoned with? + +As this question flashed through her mind, Marise remembered that she +knew nothing of Garth's past, nor of his character, except that he had +fought and won the V.C., therefore he must be brave. But why worry, +since in a few months they'd part, and she would forget him, as she'd +forgotten several leading men who played "opposite" her when she first +went on the stage? + +But that look in the yellow-grey eyes; what was its language? What was +in the soul or brain behind the eyes? Was Garth deciding how to treat +her during the short time that would be his? + +Marise recalled the sound of his voice when he had asked her what would +come after the marriage. She'd answered that she "hadn't thought yet." +And he had said, "_You had better think. Think now._" + +"Well, I'm not alone in the world, and I'm not afraid of him," she +encouraged herself. "Cave Man business is old stuff. And anyhow--what +price a Cave _Girl_?" + +The vision of a Cave Girl downing a surprised Cave Man almost made +Marise laugh; and then it was time for the ring. Good gracious, the +_ring_! Of course, no one had thought of it! + +There was an instant's stage-wait. Marise's eyes turned to her mother +and saw Mums tearing off a glove to supply the necessary object. Far +more dramatic, Severance had jumped up and was pulling from the least +finger of his left hand a gold snake-ring which had been made for his +mother in Athens. Yes, he would _love_ to have Marise married to Garth +with that! But, after all, the bridegroom had brought the ring. It was +only that for a few seconds he had forgotten. Perhaps the look he had +exchanged with his bride had made him forget! + +He remembered, however, before Mums or Severance could step into the +breach. In fact, he gave them no breach to step into. + +"With this ring I thee wed, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow," +Marise heard him repeat, as he slipped over the third finger of her left +hand the circlet retrieved in haste from his khaki tunic. She glanced at +the ring as it slid loosely on, and was amazed to see what such an +outsider had chosen. + +The "smart thing" in London and New York was, not to have the "stodgy +old curtain-ring" which had been woman's badge of subjection for +centuries. Instead, the idea was a band of platinum set round with +diamonds; and this was what Garth had hit upon! + +While Marise was on her knees--shamefaced because there was nothing she +dared pray about--she thought of the ring, and wondered who on earth had +put Garth up to getting it? + + * * * * * + +When all was over, and the words which should be momentous were spoken, +"I pronounce you man and wife," the girl lifted her face with the +hardest expression it had ever worn. Eyes and lips said, "This is where +the bridegroom kisses the bride. But that's not in _our_ programme. +Don't dare to take advantage of your Colonel being here." + +Whether Garth read the signal, or whether he'd no intention of keeping +the time-honoured custom, he refrained. Instead of a kiss, he gave the +bride a slight smile, gone so quickly she wondered if she'd imagined it. + +In another moment, after she'd been pressed in her mother's arms, Lord +Pobblebrook was shaking hands; and then came Severance. + +It was a good minute for him, because Garth was kept busy by a kind +Colonel and a not very kind mother-in-law. + +"Let no man put them asunder!" the Reverend David Jones had just said, +but there already was the man who intended, in the devil's good time, to +disobey that command. + +"This has been the worst half-hour of my life," Tony groaned. "My God, +how I've suffered! I all but sprang up and yelled 'Stop!' when the fool +looked round for someone to say why the marriage shouldn't take +place----" + +"'Or else _for ever after_ hold his peace,'" quoted Marise. + +"Dash it all, don't rub things in," Severance begged. "I didn't know how +bad it would be----" + +"I half thought you _might_ spring up!" the girl confessed. + +"If I had, what would you have done?" + +"I--don't know." + +"It would have made matters worse for the future--more difficult all +round," Tony said. "That thought held me back. But, Marise, it was cruel +to spring this surprise on me." + +"It doesn't seem to have been a surprise," she reminded him. "How _did_ +you know about it--the church, and everything?" + +"A little bird told me. Why did you want to hurt me so?" + +Marise shrugged her shoulders. "You had hurt me--almost to death. I +_had_ to strike back! But let's not talk of it any more. The thing's +done--and can't be undone." + +"It can, and will be, before long, please Heaven!" + +The girl laughed. "Please _Heaven_?" And she was glad when Pobbles broke +in, Mums at his side. + +"My dear young lady, Garth confided in me (am I not his Colonel, which +is much the same as a father confessor?) that this--er--this little show +had been got up in a hurry for one reason or other. I'm pleased and +honoured to be in at the dea--I mean the birth--er--you _know_ what I +mean! And I'd be still more pleased if--er--couldn't we--I--invite you +all to some sort of blow-out? My wife----" + +"Sweet of you, Lord Pobblebrook!" cut in Mrs. Sorel. "But if there'd +been time for any sort of rejoicing, any little feast, I should be +giving it and asking Lady Pobblebrook and yourself to join us. But I +suppose Major Garth can't quite have made it clear to you that he is +called away suddenly--on a sort of _mission_. That's why the marriage +was so rushed. He has to go at once, so he wanted to be married first, +and----" + +"Take my wife with me," explained Garth. + +His mother-in-law of ten minutes stared at him with the eyes of a cold, +boiled fish. + +"Of course--yes--that's what he _wanted_," she smiled to Pobbles. "What +a pity it can't be! My daughter, Lord Pobblebrook, is a servant of the +public, you know. She has to obey them, marriage or no marriage. And +they want her in New York." + +"Not as much as I want her out West," said Garth. He smiled again--that +same queer smile with the same unreadable look in his eyes, though this +time both were for Mums. + +The indignant lady turned to Marise, in case there were some plot +against her; but the girl gave a very slight shake of her head. Light +came back to Mrs. Sorel's eyes. She ought to be able to trust her own +daughter! + +"I took the liberty of ordering lunch for four at the Ritz after I met +my Colonel in the hall of the Belmore," said Garth. "I stopped on the +way there, to buy the ring. But"--and he eyed Severance coolly--"there +will be room to have a fifth plate laid, if--er----" + +"Oh!" thought Marise. "Not so much Cave Man, after all, as the Strong, +Silent Man! All right! I know _that_ kind from A to Z. And I dare say +it's just as easy to be a Strong, Silent Girl as to be a Cave Girl, if +once you begin properly." + +Her sense of adventure woke again as she waited to hear Tony's answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE SPEAKING-TUBE + + +Severance accepted the invitation to the Ritz. His principal reason for +doing so was because he knew it would enrage Garth. + +It was a strange and strained luncheon, for those present (with the +exception of "Pobbles") talked very little and thought so much that it +seemed to each one as if his or her thoughts shrieked aloud or shot from +the head in streaks of blue lightning. + +Marise thought, "What comes next? What does _He_ mean to do?" And "He," +with a capital "H," was no longer Severance, but this stranger, Garth. + +Mrs. Sorel thought, "How _are_ we going to get rid of the man? I'm sure +he means mischief. Shall I appeal to Lord Severance, or would that make +matters worse?" + +Severance thought, "How am I to get some time alone with Marise, and +come to an understanding before I sail to-morrow morning? How are we to +arrange about our _letters and cables_?" + +And Garth thought, "What will She say when she finds out what I've +arranged at the Plaza?" + +As for Lord Pobblebrook, he had only vague, pleasant thoughts such as +men of his type do have at a wedding luncheon with plenty of champagne. +It was a very good luncheon, for they do things well at the Ritz, and +the champagne was a last song of glory before America went "dry." + +At last, when Severance had to give up hope of a whispered word with +Marise, he was obliged to declare his hand. "I'll call at the theatre +to-night to say good-bye if you don't mind," he announced aloud, with a +casual air. "I suppose you won't hand things over to your understudy, in +spite of what's happened to-day?" + +"I shall play to-night, of course," said Marise. + +"And every night," added Mums. + +Silence followed her words. + +"Won't you come back to the Plaza with us, Lord Pobblebrook?" asked Mrs. +Sorel. "If you have never been there, I'd like you to see what a +charming hotel it is. Next time you run over from dear England, you +might like to try it for yourself. Major Garth, I'm sorry to say, is +obliged to attend to business this afternoon--business concerned with +his _mission_, so unfortunately--unless you'll go with us--my daughter +and I will be obliged to taxi back alone." + +"Of course I'll come, with pleasure!" heartily consented Pobbles. + +"My business doesn't begin quite so early," said Garth. "If you'll drive +with Mrs. Sorel, sir, I'll take my wife as far as the Plaza." + +If Mums could have stabbed her son-in-law, not fatally but painfully, +with a stiletto-flash from her eyes, it would have given her infinite +satisfaction to do so. As she could not, she had to confess herself +worsted for the moment; for Lord Pobblebrook was the Colonel of Lord +Severance as well as of Major Garth; and it was for such as he that the +conventional farce of this wedding had taken place. He must not be +allowed to suspect that anything was wrong, or Tony's whole elaborate +scheme might be wrecked. It was most probable that Lord Pobblebrook and +Mr. Ionides belonged to some of the same London clubs and met now and +then. + +Marise was oddly dazed at finding herself alone in a taxi with Garth, +bound for the Plaza Hotel, which she thought of as "home." She had +expected that Tony or Mums would succeed in rescuing her, but neither +had risen to the occasion: and the girl realised that this lack of +initiative on their part was due to the presence of Pobbles. She hardly +knew whether to be more vexed or amused at Garth's triumph (she supposed +that he considered it such); but her lips twitched with that fatal sense +of humour which Mums so disapproved. + +"It is rather funny, isn't it?" said her companion. + +Marise stiffened. This was a critical moment. Much depended upon the +start she made on stepping over the threshold of this strange situation. +She must be careful to keep the whip hand. + +"What I was laughing at is funny, in a way," she grudged. "It +occurred to me that it was smart of you to bring your Colonel +to--to--the--er----" + +"Show," suggested Garth. + +"If you like to call it that." + +"I thought the word pretty well described it from your point of view," +explained Garth. + +Marise looked straight at him. + +"What was it from yours? It can't have been much more." + +"I don't feel bound to tell you what it was from mine." + +"Oh, well, you needn't!" Her chin went up. "I'm not really curious." + +"Why should you be? You'll find out in time." + +A spark lit the blue eyes under the blue hat. + +"I do hope you're not planning to spring any surprises on me, Major +Garth," she said, in an acid tone that was a youthful copy of Mums, +"because, if you are, it will only lead to unpleasantness. Whereas, if +you keep to the spirit of the bargain, we----" + +"Allow me to point out," Garth cut in, with an impersonal air of +detachment which puzzled her, "that you yourself have 'queered' the +'bargain.'" + +"I don't know what you mean," exclaimed Marise. + +"That's another instance of your not thinking things out beforehand," he +said. "If you'd stopped to reflect a minute before you proposed to marry +me this morning you'd have seen what you were up against." + +Marise felt the blood rush to her cheeks, as if the man had slapped them +with the flat of his big hand. + +"What a way of putting it!" she flashed at him. "You may be a hero and +all that--no doubt you are, as you're a V.C. But as a man--a +_gentleman_--I'm afraid you've got quite a lot to learn." + +"Of course I have," said Garth. "You knew I was only a temporary +gentleman. I heard Severance state the fact to you on shipboard when he +was telling you some of my other disadvantages. Scratch a temporary +gentleman, and under the surface you find----" + +"What?" Marise threw into a pause. + +"The things you'll find in me, when you know me better." + +"Oh!" she breathed. And on second thoughts added, "I don't intend to +'scratch' you, and find things under the surface. I don't suppose I +shall ever know you much better." + +"Call it worse, then," he suggested. + +"Neither better, nor worse!" + +"Yet you've just promised to take me for both." + +"That meant nothing, as you know very well." + +"I do not know anything of the sort." + +"Then you _are_ a 'temporary gentleman' indeed! We spoke just now of +that bargain----" + +"Which, through your own actions, doesn't exist." + +"Of course it exists. You talk in riddles!" + +"When you put your mind to this one, it will cease to be a riddle. +You'll guess it in a moment. You'll see what you've done. Probably +Severance would have told you before this if he'd had the chance. The +explanation, if there has to be one, will come better from him than from +me. But I may as well break one small detail to you before we get to the +hotel; I've no intention of leaving him alone with you for a minute, or +any part of a minute, before he sails." + +"How dare you hope to lay down the law for me?" Marise almost gasped, +over a wildly-throbbing heart. "I shall see Lord Severance alone as much +as I choose--and as he chooses." + +"You can try," said Garth. "So can he." + +"_You_ won't have any chance to prevent it! You shan't even come into my +mother's suite at the Plaza Hotel if you attempt to put on these +ridiculous airs of being my master. I wonder who you think you _are_, +Major Garth?" + +"The important thing--to you and your mother and to Severance--is not so +much what I think I am, as what other people will think I am. They will +think I'm your husband. I understand that this marriage idea was +entirely for appearance' sake?" + +"Exactly!" cried Marise. + +"Then it's up to you and me to look after the appearances. I warned you +this morning that you hadn't thought the thing out enough, and that +you'd better think hard, then and there. Perhaps you did. If so, +you----" + +"I didn't. How could I? There was no time." + +"That's what you said. Consequently I had to do the thinking for you. +And the arranging of your future. I never was a slow chap. My life was +always more or less of a hustle since I was a very small kid, and I had +to keep my thinking machine on the jump. The war has speeded it up a +bit. This morning, when you announced that you'd be ready to be married +in an hour or less, I'll tell you just what I had to do. I had to inform +the manager of your hotel that I was marrying Miss Sorel, and that we +couldn't get away from New York for a few days----" + +"You--dared to do that!" + +"I got my V.C. for doing something almost as dangerous. I told him he +must give us a suite----" + +"You--you _devil_!" + +"Thank you. I guess even that sounds more natural from a wife to a +husband than 'Major Garth.'" + +"You don't dream I'm going to occupy a suite with you, I suppose?" + +"I don't dream. I know you are going to occupy that suite, unless you +want me openly to leave you on our wedding day. This comes of your not +thinking what would happen next. You'd better choose now, because we'll +soon be at the Plaza. Is it to be my hotel or not?" + +"You said--when my mother explained to Lord Pobblebrook that you had a +mission--you said you were going West." + +"And that I intended to take you with me. But that won't be for a few +days, till you've had time to settle your affairs. I don't want to rush +you. What I ask you to decide now is for meanwhile, before we start." + +"I shall never start anywhere with you--or live anywhere meanwhile with +you." + +"Very well then, that's that. Now I know where I am." He seized the +speaking-tube, but Marise caught his hand. + +"What are you going to do?" she asked. + +"Stop the taxi and get out. The snap's off." + +The girl was about to exclaim, "But you can't leave me like this!" when +it occurred to her that, desperado as he was turning out, it would be +well to take him at his word; at all events, to a certain extent. + +"Very well," she said. "I shall tell everyone that you've gone West on +an important mission. V.C.'s are always expected to have missions." + +"And I shall tell everyone that I've done nothing of the sort. I'll go +back to the Belmore, 'phone to the Plaza and countermand the suite I +took, and allow myself to be interviewed by all the reporters, who'll +swarm round me like flies round a honeypot. There'll be plenty of flies +left for you. You can give them honey or vinegar, I don't care which. +It's your concern, not mine. I don't even care what they make of the +combination: my story and yours. It'll be _some_ story, though. That's +the one thing sure." + +"You're an absolute brute!" cried Marise. + +"What did you expect? You heard from Severance that I was a bounder. I'm +a fighting man. That's about all, for the moment." + +"You mean, you're fighting me?" + +"Not in the least. I'm fighting the battle of appearances, which means +I'm fighting _for_ you." + +"What makes you think there'll be reporters waiting?" Marise changed the +subject. "Did you tell anyone?" + +"The manager of your hotel and mine. I didn't tell him in confidence. +There was no idea of keeping the marriage a secret, was there?" + +"No-o." + +"Well, then! Am I or am I not to stop the taxi and get out?" + +"Wait," Marise temporised. "You must please understand that I'm not +going to live with you as your wife." + +"I haven't asked you to do so, although you did ask me to become your +husband. After last Sunday, I would never have started the subject, or +even have tried to meet you again. Please, on your part, understand +that." + +The girl's breath was caught away for the dozenth time. She spoke more +quietly. "I know you haven't asked me, in so many words," she admitted. +"But you spoke of a _suite_." + +"Certainly I spoke of a suite. I thought you and your mother were +anxious to keep up conventions. Though I'm not Severance's sort of +gentleman--perhaps _because_ I'm not--you can trust me not to behave +like a brute, even though you're thinking that I speak like one. Or, if +you can't trust me as far as that, you ought never to have run the risk +you have run." + +"But can I trust you--to keep to the bargain?" + +"I've told you that owing to your own act, there _is_ no bargain. +Haven't you solved that 'puzzle' yet?" + +"I have not." + +"You will soon. Do I stop here?" + +"Bargain or no bargain then, _can_ I trust you?" + +"Look me in the face and judge." + +She looked him in the face. + +In spite of the war tan, not faded yet, he was pale; and his pupils +seemed to have flowed like ink over the yellow-grey iris. His eyes were +black as they blazed into hers. He might, she thought, commit murder in +that mood, but--he could do nothing mean, nothing sly, nothing vile. + +"I must trust you, and I do." + +Garth let the speaking-tube fall. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +AU REVOIR--TILL SOMETIME! + + +When Marise and Garth arrived together in Mrs. Sorel's salon, it was to +find a "bunch" of reporters interviewing the bride's mother. + +Marise guessed that Mums had had the young men up in order to tell them +what she chose about Major Garth's future movements before Garth had +time to arrive and speak for himself. But by these tactics she had lost +the supporting presence of Lord Severance. Fearing his uncle, and +perhaps even detectives set to spy upon him by Constantine Ionides, the +last thing he could afford was to have his name appear in print in +connection with this surprise wedding. Fearing reporters, he had not +even come to the hotel door with Mrs. Sorel, but had gone with his +Colonel to pay respects due to lady Pobblebrook; and this was well, for +some sharp eye and stylo would have spotted him even in the background +of a taxi. + +Mums had not only approved, she had advised this prudence. Everything +depended upon it, in fact; and she had soothed Tony by assuring him that +she and Marise--or she alone--could deal with Garth if Garth were uppish +and needed keeping in his place. It was arranged between Mrs. Sorel and +Lord Severance that the latter should come to "Dolores's" dressing-room +at the theatre to say good-bye, and Mums would see that he got a few +minutes at least alone with Marise. Then, in a few weeks he would be +back and they would meet again. Mrs. Sorel had provisionally accepted +the loan of Bell Towers until he and OEnone should want the house for +themselves, whereupon the Sorels could gracefully retire to some +charming place they would hope to find in the neighbourhood. + +Of course, this acceptance of Bell Towers must depend upon Marise +leaving the stage: but Mums said that, if Tony were indeed shortly to be +left a widower, the sooner Marise could be disassociated from the +theatre, the better it would be for all concerned. + +Thus it happened that when "Major and Mrs. Garth" walked into the room a +few minutes after Mums' arrival, they found her as busy with a crowd of +reporters as a conjurer who keeps a dozen oranges in the air at once. + +Mary Sorel was chagrined at sight of her son-in-law. + +Not that she thought of him as such, or as the husband of her daughter. +She was a woman whom circumstances had forced to become unscrupulous. +Ever since Marise had begun, as a flapper, to show signs of unusual +beauty and talent, Mums had buckled on a steely armour in which to fight +the world for her girl. Naturally conventional, she had adjusted a nice +balance between ambition and conscience. When she was obliged to do a +thing in itself objectionable, she hastily gilded it for her own benefit +as well as that of Marise, seeing it as she wished it to be. Garth in +her eyes, therefore, was no more important than one of the leading men +with whom Marise played her star parts; and as--like a leading man--he +was to be well paid, he would have no right to obtrude upon the star's +private life. + +She intended that, no matter how he protested, he should immediately be +"called away"; and she had hoped to get just what she wanted scribbled +into the notebooks of these reporters before Garth could interfere. +Without feeling in the least guilty, therefore, she was upset when he +had the bad taste to stalk in with Marise. + +"Hello, boys!" he breezily greeted the newspaper men, some of whom he +had met before. + +They were delighted to see him, as well as Marise, and Mrs. Sorel's +painstaking work went by the board in a minute. With rage and anguish +she heard Garth say that when he "went West" (no longer in the sad +vernacular of soldiers) his wife would go with him. + +"She'll be leaving the stage, you know, as soon as she can manage to get +free," he explained. "And then I'm going to take her out to my adopted +state, Arizona." + +His mother-in-law's interpolations that "it must be a long time first" +were scarcely heard; and all her "exclusive information" was hurriedly +blue-pencilled by the newspaper men. In the midst of this (to her) +extremely painful scene, Sheridan and Belloc, author and manager, burst +in like a couple of bombs. They had heard the news, and dashed to the +Plaza in search of the truth. + +"Well, I suppose we ought to congratulate you and all that," grumbled +Belloc, when his worst fears had been confirmed by the sight of Garth, +well known from journalistic snapshots. "We might have suspected +something was in the wind, the way you've been an every-nighter for the +'Spring Song,' Major. But safety first!--and we can't be polite till +we're out of the woods. You're not going to tear Miss Sorel away from +us, of course, in the midst of the run?" + +"Miss Sorel has ceased to exist, hasn't she?" asked Garth, with a rather +glum smile. + +"Not ceased to exist professionally." Belloc explained his meaning to +the lay mind. "And I hope she won't cease for many years." + +"If I can answer for her, she'll do no more acting after she's handed in +her notice to you--two weeks, I suppose, like most contracts," Garth +returned. "It's hard on you, in the middle of a run. But didn't I see in +some Sunday supplement a photo of a beautiful young lady, labelled 'Miss +Sorel's Understudy'? And as you say 'safety first!'--naturally I put my +own safety before yours." + +"As if anyone would go to the 'Spring Song' to see Marise's understudy!" +broke out Mrs. Sorel. + +"Well, in _my_ 'Spring Song' there's no understudy to take her part. She +has to play it herself," retorted Garth. "But I leave the decision to +her." + +As he spoke he looked straight at Marise--a warning look, as she read +it. The thought of his threat was sharp as the point of a knife, +pricking a painful reminder into her breast. + +The girl could hear every word he had said to her in the taxi between +church and hotel--hear the whole conversation as though it were being +repeated by a gramophone. If she ventured to promise Belloc and Sheridan +now that she would stay on in spite of her marriage, this big, +uncompromising fellow would turn his back on her, giving to the public +some garbled story of the desertion, a story which would shame her and +ruin Tony's plans. She could have stamped her foot and burst into tears, +as the emotional Spanish "Dolores" had to do in one scene of the play: +but the reporters were all eyes and ears, and would simply "eat" an +exhibition of the star's fury with her brand-new bridegroom. Oh, she was +at the beast's mercy in this first round of their fight--and well he +must know it, or he'd not dare give her such a lead! + +"Of course Marise wouldn't leave two old friends in the lurch at a +fortnight's notice," Mrs. Sorel gave her ultimatum. "This is only a joke +of Major Garth's." + +"No, Mums, I'm afraid it isn't," said the girl, her cheeks hot, her eyes +filling with tears. "We--we were talking things over in the taxi just +now, and--and--well anyhow there's a fortnight to get Susanne Neville +into shape as Dolores before I have to--go. She's so clever and pretty, +I shall probably be jealous as a cat of the hit she makes in 'Dolores.'" + +Mrs. Sorel was stricken dumb for once. Not that she intended to let +things fall to pieces in any such way; but she was sure Marise wouldn't +pronounce what sounded like her own doom without reason. Mums would have +it out with Marise and the Terrible Garth when everyone else had safely +faded away. + +The best she could do was to go herself to the vestibule door when the +reporters left in a body and breathe a few words to them. "I wouldn't +take all this as being definitely decided, if I were you. There may be a +quick change. Better say that nothing's settled." And again, when Belloc +and Sheridan gloomily departed, "Don't give up. I'll 'phone you later. +There's sure to be better news!" + +Returning, Mary Sorel the dauntless was surprised and disgusted to find +herself vaguely afraid of the man she had despised. She had the same +fear of him that one has of an impersonal force like electricity, which +cannot be counted on, and of which little is known except that it may +strike without considering one's feelings in the least. She tried to +shake off the sensation, however, for the man had evidently hypnotised +Marise in some secret, deadly way, perhaps by threats of violence. All +was lost if she--Mary--did not keep her head. + +She entered the salon, therefore, with a bustling air. "Now, Major +Garth," she began, "I hope to hear the meaning of this--this +_ridiculous_ talk of my daughter throwing over her engagement and going +West with you." + +"She's thrown over one engagement in favour of another, hasn't she?" +Garth inquired with his habitual quiet insolence. "If you asked the +Reverend Mr. Jones, I think he'd say she had." + +"I wish to ask no one anything about my daughter," Mrs. Sorel crushed +the upstart. "I merely assert that it's time this nonsense ceased. It's +gone disastrously far already." + +"It's up to you and Marise to say how much further it shall go." + +"'Marise'! Who gave you permission to call her Marise?" + +Garth laughed. Even the girl uttered a faint hysterical giggle. It was +rather funny to hear poor Mums ask that! But then Mums prided herself on +having no vulgar sense of humour to interfere with justice. + +"What would you like me to call her?" the man wanted to know. "'Miss +Sorel' would be hardly proper now. And for a husband to call his wife +'Mrs. Garth' would be more suited, wouldn't it, to the lower circles I +sprang from, than the high ones where she moves?" + +Mary Sorel was reduced to heaving silence. As she bit her lip, Garth +turned to Marise. "Would you prefer me to make things clear to your +mother, or would you rather I'd go, and leave it to you?" + +Marise snatched at the chance he gave. "Go, please," she answered +quickly. "I'll--tell Mums what you--said in the taxi. She and I will +talk things over, and--and I'll see you again to-morrow or sometime." + +"Or sometime," he echoed. + +The girl expected him to remind her rudely of the bridal suite he had +engaged in the hotel, but he did not. He took up his smart Guards cap, +laid the handsome lavender-grey overcoat on his arm, and went to the +door. "Au revoir," he said, pronouncing his French remarkably well for a +man of the lower stratum. Then, without a word as to the next meeting, +in spite of all his threats, he was gone. + +What _did_ it mean? Marise asked herself. Had he been bluffing? Or had +he seen the monstrous folly of terrorising her? She would have given +much to know. Perhaps he guessed that! + +Ostentatiously Mums flew to lock the door. She locked it loudly, and +running back took Marise into her arms. "My poor child!" she wailed. +"What has he _done_ to you? You are like a dove with a snake!" + +Strange, that in a turmoil of anger and dread as she was, Marise was +continually wanting to laugh! The thought of herself as a fluttering +dove and the big, brutal Garth as a sinuous snake was comic! But there +was, alas, nothing else comic in the situation, and she explained it as +she saw it, while Mums punctuated each sentence with moans. + +"It's awful!" sighed Mary at last. "But there's nothing really to be +_feared_, so we must cheer up. Our protection is that this fellow's poor +as a church rat (I _can't_ call him a mouse!). When it comes to the +point he will have to toe the mark, and keep to his bargain----" + +"Ah, that's it!" cried Marise. "He says through _my_ action the bargain +is off. He wouldn't explain what he meant: said I'd see for myself +sooner or later. But I don't see yet. Do you?" + +"I do not, indeed. I believe it's only more wicked bluff on his part. He +talks of taking you West with him. What does he expect you to live on? +Your own money? He hasn't got his million dollars yet, and he'll lose +the lot unless he behaves himself," Mums laid down the law. "For +goodness' sake, though, don't complain to Tony of the creature's +threats! Tony would fight him--kill him, perhaps. What a sickening +scandal! No, you've made an appalling mistake by marrying Garth before +you needed to do so, and giving him a hold over you just as Tony is +going so far away. But you can take care of yourself--or if you can't I +can take care of you. As for this suite the man boasts about, I'll +'phone down now to the manager and question him. If it adjoins this, as +it probably does--that would have been arranged if possible, no +doubt--why, everything will be simple enough." + +Marise did not answer. She was beginning to think that nothing was quite +simple where Garth was concerned. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +WHY THE BARGAIN WAS OFF + + +Marise started late for the theatre, because she felt unequal to coping +with her fellow actors' and actresses' well-meaning good wishes. She +went alone with Celine, for Mums had developed a nervous sick headache, +and the girl, like a dutiful daughter, had begged her to rest at home. + +"You'll be more able to help me out with--any complications that may +come afterwards," she said. + +The star's wonderfully decorated dressing-room was entered through a +still more wonderfully decorated reception or ante-room; and almost +running in, Marise stopped short with a gasp of surprise. Not only was +the place crammed with flowers--all white, bridal flowers (that in +itself was not strange), but in the midst of them sat Garth, still in +uniform. As his wife appeared he rose, grave and silent, as if awaiting +a cue. + +"Take these things into the dressing-room, Celine," ordered Marise, +tossing her gold bag and furs to the maid. "I'll be there in a minute." + +When Celine had obeyed, the girl looked the man up and down. + +"Visitors don't intrude here, except by invitation," she informed him. + +"Have you invited Lord Severance to intrude?" Garth asked. + +"No-o, I haven't invited him." + +"But he's coming, isn't he?" + +"Possibly he may come. You know quite well, that's different." + +"I do know. Just because it _is_ different, I don't mean him to come +unless I'm here too. But I've no wish to interfere with you otherwise. +And if you tell me on your honour that you won't receive Severance alone +(I don't count your maid as a chaperon), I'll go now. By the way, don't +blame anyone for admitting me. The news is in all the late editions of +the evening papers, I suppose you know, and naturally the bridegroom was +expected to pay a call upon the bride." + +Marise gazed at the formidable figure in khaki for a minute, and then +without a word went into her dressing-room. + +Mums, very likely, would have told the man a fib, getting rid of him by +a promise not to see Severance alone. But the girl--though she, too, +told fibs sometimes if driven into a corner--couldn't bring herself to +utter one now. There was no time for a "scene," even if she were not in +danger of coming out second best, so the dignified course was to retire. +Tony wouldn't show up till the end of the first act at earliest; and if +then she stood talking to someone or other outside her dressing-room as +long as she dared, there might be time for a whisper with him while the +watch-dog lay vainly in wait on the wrong side of the door! + +Helped by Celine she dressed quickly, hearing no sound from the +ante-room until the call-boy bounded in to shout her name. Instantly she +ran through, half hoping that Garth had gone, though determined not to +glance in his direction if he were still on the spot. He was; and +somehow, without looking, Marise knew that he was quietly reading a book +as if the place belonged to him. + +Wild applause greeted the entrance of "Dolores," applause even more +ardent than usual, and the play had to stop for the bride reluctantly to +bow her acknowledgments. Marise had passed such an "upsetting" day that +she came near having an attack of stage-fright, fearful of not taking +her cue, or "drying up" in her words. But to her surprise and relief, +she felt herself stronger in the part than she had ever been before. "I +believe I really _am_ a great actress!" she thought; and choked at the +pity of it--the pity that--whatever happened now--she was bound to leave +the stage. "Is Tony worth it all?" she wondered. But the Other Man's +figure loomed so tall in the foreground, that she could not concentrate +on Tony long enough to answer her own question. + +Never had "Dolores" been impatient of too many curtain calls until now: +but to-night they were irritating. They wasted such a lot of time, and +any moment Tony might come! + +There was little time to linger outside her dressing-room, but she did +linger for a few minutes, talking with the reproachful Belloc. No card +or message was brought to her, however, and she knew that Severance +would not have been sent into her room without her permission. Garth sat +stolid as a Buddha when she passed through, and she went by him as if he +were a piece of furniture. She received a telepathic impression that he +did not lift his eyes from his book! + +The leading man had a scene with the villain of the piece at the +beginning of the second act, and this gave the star a chance to rest, or +chat with friends. It was the time when Severance generally dropped in, +and she "felt in her bones" that his name would now be announced. Nor +were her vertebrae deceived. Prompt to the usual moment a knock, answered +by Celine, brought news that "the Earl of Severance asked to see Miss +Sorel." + +"Tell him I'll come outside and talk with him!" she said on an impulse: +but in the ante-room Garth stopped her. + +"Don't you think," he said, "that you'd better have Severance shown in +here? He won't be pleased if I come out with you as if from your +dressing-room, _en famille_, so to speak. And I _shall_ go out if you +go, as in the circumstances I don't care for you to speak with him +alone." + +"Alone, do you call it, with stage hands and creatures of all sorts +tearing about?" Marise rebelled. + +"You can build up a wall with a whisper," said Garth. + +As the girl hovered at the door, undecided, Celine returned. "Milord is +waiting outside, Mademoiselle--I mean, Madame," she announced. + +"Go back," ordered Marise, "and ask Lord Severance after all to come +in." + +The fat was in the fire now, indeed! Poor Mums' counsels concerning Tony +were vain. He would see for himself how Garth repudiated the bargain. +But it couldn't be helped. Better to have a "row" in her own quarters +than outside! + +Severance walked into the reception room, at his handsomest in evening +dress. He came with his hands out to the lovely "Dolores," but let them +fall at sight of Garth, and stopped just over the threshold, with a +scowl bringing his black brows together. + +Celine flitted by, and shut the door of the dressing-room behind her. + +"What are _you_ doing here?" Tony flung out the words; yet he had an odd +air of keeping his own truculence under control. Marise did not quite +understand his manner, in which prudent hesitation fought with anger. +But perhaps Garth understood. He knew why Severance's tooth was loose. + +"I'm here," he said, "because I don't choose to have my wife talking +with you alone." + +Severance turned to the girl. "Marise, do you permit this man to be in +your room, pretending to control your actions?" + +"I have to," retorted Marise. "Since he won't leave us alone, we must +just say what we have to say before him, whether he enjoys it or not. He +isn't behaving at all according to--to contract. I would have said +'bargain,' only, whenever I mention that, he tells me there _isn't_ a +bargain. According to him, I've somehow destroyed it." + +Severance looked stricken. "Wha--what does he mean by that?" + +"I don't know. Ask him. We've got about fifteen minutes to have this +out, before I'm called." + +"That's what I'm anxious to do, 'have it out,'" said Garth. "But don't +be alarmed, my wife; there'll be no violence started by me. If there is +any it will come from the other side, whereupon I shall put the +disturber of the peace out of your room. I'm stronger than he is +physically, as he knows: and I hope to prove stronger in other ways." + +"Don't talk like the villain of a Melville melodrama!" blurted +Severance. + +"I don't think _I'm_ the villain of the piece," said Garth calmly. +"Anyhow, we won't have more words about this than we need. My wife and +you both want me to explain why I say she has made the so-called +'bargain,' nil. I believe, Lord Severance--to put the thing as it is--to +face the facts--you proposed hiring me for the sum of a million dollars, +to marry Miss Sorel, treat her as a stranger when we were alone, and as +a kind husband in company, so there should be no ugly gossip about the +marriage. Then, when you were free from the invalid wife you're +financially compelled to take, I was supposed to step out of your way by +letting this lady quietly divorce me." + +It was useless to protest against so bald a way of putting the matter, +which sounded disgusting to Severance, and could have been thus put, he +considered, only by a very temporary gentleman. Therefore he did not +protest. He replied with stifled fury that, willingly, even eagerly, +Major Garth had consented to play a dummy's part in order to earn an +easy million. + +"Exactly," said Garth. "Well, I _have_ married Miss Sorel. Where's the +million?" + +"You know as well as I do I haven't got the money yet, and can't get it +till it's given me, as promised, by my uncle Constantine Ionides, after +my wedding." + +"So you explained the other day. You admit you can't carry out your half +of the bargain. Yet I've carried out mine." + +"That's on your own head!" barked Severance. "If you were so keen on +money down, you shouldn't have married Miss Sorel till you could get +it." + +"What--you, an officer in the Guards, would advise a brother officer of +the Brigade to refuse to marry a lady if she proposed to him?" + +"Oh!" cried Marise; and Garth smiled at her with the yellow-grey eyes +which were more than ever like the eyes of a lion. "You _did_ propose, +didn't you?" + +"I--said I wanted to be married--to-day," the girl hedged. "If you call +that----" + +"I do. Any man would. You were in a hurry. You hoped, you said, that +things might be fixed up for the wedding in an hour--or less. I fixed +things up. We were married. Now I don't get my money. Consequently I +consider myself free of any obligations concerned with the bargain. +Though I'm willing to take legal opinion on the point, if you like?" + +"A nice figure you'd cut if you did!" exploded Severance. + +"I should say, 'the woman--or the earl--tempted me, and I did eat.' I +ate by request. And I'm entitled to a core to my apple. There isn't any +core. So I have the right either to chuck the peel away and let it fall +in the mud, or else to hang on to it, and make up the best way I can for +what lacks." + +"I should like to kill you, Garth," said Severance. + +"Well, when we're both safely out of my wife's dressing-room and this +theatre, I'll give you a chance to try." + +The lids over the dark, Greek eyes flickered slightly. Between the two +men was a memory, a picture: a room at the Belmore Hotel, with a table +and some chairs overturned: a few spots of blood on a lavender tie: not +the tie of Garth. + +"Being out of her theatre wouldn't save Miss Sorel from scandal if we +made fools of ourselves," Tony said. + +"That's the sensible view," agreed Garth. "I'm at your service for war +or peace. But the fact remains that I am Marise Sorel's husband, and as +I'm not paid for taking on the job, you, Severance, have no concern with +my conduct to her. The rest is between my wife and myself. If she wishes +me to leave her I will do so now, at this moment--on my own terms. If +she wishes me to stay by her side for appearance' sake, I'll stay--also +on my own terms." + +"What are your terms?" Tony's dry lips formed the words almost without +sound. + +"They'll be settled to-night between my wife and me. You have nothing +whatever to do with them." + +"If--if you fail in respect for her, you never get your million dollars +when the time comes!" Severance almost sobbed. + +"When the time comes--the time can decide," said Garth. + +"Miss Sorel!" bawled the call-boy at the door. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE BRIDAL SUITE + + +It was, as Severance told himself, the damnedest scrape! And he could +see no present way out of it. Turn as he would, he was merely running +round and round in a "vicious circle." + +He couldn't murder Garth, or otherwise eliminate him, without setting +fire to his dearest hopes, and seeing his fortune go up in a blaze. +Garth mustn't be allowed to walk away from Marise, leaving her in the +position of a deserted bride, after a sensational wedding. Nor could +Severance bear to think of the man's remaining near her, now that he +proclaimed the bargain "off," and himself free and independent. + +If only the fellow might be knocked over by a taxi and killed, there +would be the perfect solution! But even that ought not to happen just +yet. It wouldn't do for Marise to be known as a widow before he, +Severance, could bring OEnone to America as a bride. The celebrated +Miss Sorel might as well never have been married at all, so far as old +Constantine Ionides was concerned. + +There were two faintly glimmering spots in the general blackness of +things. _Bright_ spots they hardly deserved to be called! Such as they +were, one was the fact that Garth--despite his bluff--was unlikely to +sacrifice all hope of the million by making forbidden love to Marise. +The other gleam was: even if Garth did play the fool as well as the cad, +Marise had asserted up to the last moment that she could take care of +herself. + +Severance had reason to believe that she could. If she'd not had a cool +little head, and a high opinion of her own value, the favourite actress +would not have attained the position she held. "Lots of chaps had been +after her," including Tony Severance: men of title, men with money, men +of genius, men of charm, and she had held her own with them all, forcing +their respect. Well, there wasn't much chance for a bullying brute of +Garth's stamp, to get the best of a girl like that! + +So Severance consoled himself, after his decision at the theatre that +nothing would be gained by attempting to "rescue" Marise from Garth. +After leaving her--bidding her good-bye for long and anxious weeks--he +could not resist 'phoning Mrs. Sorel at the Plaza, though Marise had +told him that Mums was bowled over by a sick headache. He rang the poor +lady up--literally up!--and discussed the situation with her, not daring +to call for fear of detectives set upon him by cable from London. The +poor lady, dragged out of bed, was sympathetic and soothing. Everything +was "perfectly all right," she assured him. She would watch over Marise +for his sake as well as her own. Marise would watch over herself, too! +And she--Mary Sorel--would write or cable Tony to his club twice or +three times a week. + +"I'd go down to the docks and see you off to-morrow morning, dear boy, +no matter at what ghastly hour you sail," Mums said, "only I don't think +it would be wise, do you?" + +No, Tony didn't. But she might send him a note by messenger to the ship, +with all the latest news. + +She would do that without fail, Mary promised; and so at last hung up +the receiver with a sigh which would have frightened Severance had it +reached him on the wire. Mums was not as calm about the future as she +had tried to make her "dear boy" think! + +Though she had been lying down, she crawled off the bed again, and put +on a smart tea-gown before it was time for her daughter to come home. +She had little doubt that the Beast would be with Marise; and her own +attempt at "frightfulness" having failed against his armour of +brutality, she intended to try diplomacy in the next encounter. + +Already she had learned that the suite engaged by Major Garth for +himself and his bride did not adjoin the one occupied by herself and +Marise since their arrival in New York. It appeared that the manager had +offered a suite of two rooms and a bath next to the Sorel suite, but +Major Garth had refused this as being too small. Nothing "large enough +for his requirements" had been available near Mrs. Sorel; but +fortunately it was on the same floor. + +This, the manager seemed to think, ought to content the lady; and +indeed, she was obliged to pretend satisfaction. She would like to see +the suite, she had said; but to her dismay the privilege was refused +with regret. Major Garth, the manager explained, had given a "rush +order" for some special decorations to surprise Mrs. Garth; and he had +requested that no one--_no one at all_ except the decorators--should be +allowed to enter until the bridal pair arrived. + +"But," Mrs. Sorel had argued, "he couldn't have meant _me_. Besides, if +no one goes in, my daughter won't have any of her toilet things ready. +There will be a scramble and confusion when she comes home tired from +the theatre." + +The manager, however, was reluctantly firm. He "mustn't tell tales out +of school," but he thought he _might_ just relieve Mrs. Sorel's fears by +saying that there would be no trouble at all of that sort. The Major's +"surprise" would--he hoped--be as pleasing to her as to the bride. And +whatever had to be done in addition could be accomplished in a few +minutes by Mrs. Garth's maid. + +Naturally, Mrs. Sorel was on tenterhooks after this information, which +she had obtained by telephone, lying on her bed, soon after Marise and +Celine left for the theatre. It determined her to be prepared for +battle, no matter how ill she might feel: for it was impossible that +Marise should ever cross the threshold of that mysteriously decorated +suite. Therefore the neat coiffure of the aching head, and the dignified +tea-gown of satin and jet. + +On the few occasions when Mums had been unable to go with Marise to the +theatre, the girl had either returned early, or telephoned that she +would be late in reaching home. Mrs. Sorel expected her to start for the +hotel to-night the instant she was dressed and had her make-up off. She +would doubtless be thankful to escape questions, and get back to her +mother--which really meant, ridding herself of Garth. + +But time crept on. Marise was half an hour late: then three-quarters. +What could have happened? Had that monster kidnapped the poor child? + +At the thought, Mums experienced the sensation of cold water slowly +trickling through her spine. "What shall I do?" she wondered. And her +mind turned to the thought--the terrible thought--of applying to the +police. If she took this extreme step, what would be the result? Could a +man be arrested for abducting his own wife? + +As she writhed and sighed helplessly on a sofa in sight of the mantel +clock, Celine's familiar tap sounded at the door, and the Frenchwoman +came in. Mrs. Sorel's anguished eyes saw that she looked pale and +excited. Her own heart seemed to rise and shrug itself in her breast, +then collapse sickeningly upon other organs. + +"For Heaven's sake, where is Mademoiselle?" she panted. + +"Ah, Madame," sighed Celine, "we must speak of Mademoiselle no more." + +"Why--why?" broke in the distracted mother. + +"But, because she is now indeed 'Madame'! She is with--her _husband_." + +"Where?" gasped Mrs. Sorel. + +"In their suite. A suite of great magnificence." + +The unhappy Mums staggered to her feet, among falling cushions. + +"Good gracious!" she groaned. "He has dragged her there----" + +"No, no, Madame, it is not so bad as that," Celine soothed her. "_Madame +la Jeune Mariee_ appeared to go with Monsieur of her own will. She +showed no fear. She was only a little quiet--a little strange. It must +have been arranged at the theatre, what was to happen, for I was with +them in a car--but yes, a car, no taxi!--which Monsieur had ordered to +wait at the stage door. I sat, not with the chauffeur, but inside on one +of the little fold-up seats. The two did not speak at all, Madame, not +once, till we had arrived here, at the hotel. Then Mademoiselle--I mean +Madame Garth--said, 'I should like Celine to come with me.' 'Very well, +let her come,' Monsieur answered. That was all. I went with them. +Monsieur asked for his key. It was given him. We were taken up in the +_ascenseur_ to this floor. But instead of turning to the right, we +turned left. Monsieur unlocked the door, switched on lights, and stood +aside for Madame his wife to pass. Even me, he let go in before him. +Then he followed and shut the door." + +"What then?" breathed Mrs. Sorel. + +"Mon Dieu, Madame, the suite was of a magnificence! It must be the best +in the house. The suite in which they put royalties who come visiting +from Europe. And not only that, the whole place has been made a garden +of flowers--wonderful flowers. This Monsieur le Majeur must be, after +all, though he does not look it, a millionaire!" + +"He is far from being a millionaire," sneered Mums. "He hasn't a sou, so +far as I've heard. He'll probably charge all this wild extravagance to +us. He's capable of it--capable of _anything_! But go on." + +"Well, Madame, the suite has an entrance hall of its own, not a tiny +vestibule like this one. The hall has many pots of gorgeous azaleas, of +colours like a sunrise in paradise. _Madame la Jeune Mariee_ walked into +the salon. The husband went also. But, me, I stood outside waiting. I +could see into the room, however. I chose my place for that purpose, to +see! A lovely salon of pearl grey and soft rose. And the flowers there +were all roses, different shades of pink. There were many, some growing +in pots, very tall; some cut ones in crystal vases and jars: and on a +table, a marvellous bowl, illuminated, with flowers floating on the +surface of bright water. Also, Madame, there were presents, jewels in +cases. If these, as Madame says, are to be charged to her, Mon Dieu, it +will be a disaster!" + +"What were the presents?" The question asked itself, out of the turmoil +that was Mums' mind. But behind the turmoil a voice seemed crying, "Why +do you stop here talking of trifles, instead of rushing to save your +wretched child?" + +But Celine was replying. After all, what use to go, since the door of +the suite would be closed, and one could not shriek and beat upon the +panels for the whole world to hear! + +"There was a large case with a double row of pearls. It must be, I +think, not a string, but a rope. There was also a lovely thing for the +hair, a wreath of laurel leaves made of green stones, doubtless +emeralds. And there was a pendant, a star of diamonds with a great +cabochon sapphire--Mademoiselle's beloved jewel!--in the centre. There +may have been other things, but those were all I remarked. I saw them +from the doorway. Yet, if Madame will believe me, _la Jeune Mariee_ did +not regard them. Neither did Monsieur draw her attention to his +gifts--no, not by gesture nor word." + +"She must have said _something_!" cried Mary. + +"She murmured that the flowers were charming. You would have thought she +had not seen the jewels, though she must have seen them, Madame, if I +saw from my distance. Monsieur asked if she would like to view the rest +of the suite. She answered, 'Oh yes, please!' Then, out into the +entrance hall they came. Monsieur threw open the door of a room next the +salon, and as he did so put on the lights. But--with that, he stepped +back. My young lady called me, 'Celine!' I ran to her, and he stopped +there in the hall. Ah, another surprise! Not the beauty of this great +bedroom. That one would expect in such a suite--a _white_ room, Madame, +and white flowers, roses not too heavily perfumed! But the surprise was +on the toilet-table. Brushes, bottles, everything, oh, so delicious a +set!--in gold. A queen could have no better. On the bed, Madame, lay a +_robe de chambre_ more beautiful than any that Mademoiselle has ever +possessed--which Madame knows, is to say much!--and on the floor--like +blossoms fallen on the white fur rug--lay a little pair of _mules_, made +of gold embroidery on cloth of silver, and having buckles of old paste +fit for the slippers of Cinderella! When she had looked round for a few +moments, quite silent, Madame, the bride turned to me. 'Now you have +seen what is here, Celine,' she said, 'you can go to my room and bring +me just the things you think I shall need.'" + +"Did she give you the key of the suite?" Mary asked sharply. + +"But no, Madame, she did not give me a key. I shall have to knock." + +"Very well, run and put a few things together," Mary directed. "It +doesn't much matter what, as Mademois--my daughter--will not, I think, +stay long in the suite. When you are ready, come back here to me. I will +go down with you. When the door is opened, I shall walk in before it can +be shut. But mind, you will speak or hint to _no_ one of what I do, or +what I say to you--or what you may see or overhear." + +"Madame may depend upon me," Celine assured her. "Ah, that poor Milord +Severance! _Mais, c'est le Destin!_" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +KEEPING UP APPEARANCES! + + +"You said at the theatre, if I trusted you enough to come here with +you," Marise began as Celine left, "you would tell me a plan you thought +I'd approve. Well, I did trust you! I _had_ to, just as I had to this +afternoon when you said the same thing in the taxi. Here I am. But so +far, I don't see anything that reassures me much. All the flowers and +jewel-cases and gold things are beautiful bribes. The only trouble about +them is, that _I_ don't take bribes--even if you can afford to offer +them!" + +"I understand that emphasis," said Garth. "_You_ don't take bribes. I +do. And you think, in making this collection I've 'gambled in futures.'" + +Marise was silent. + +"That's what you do think, isn't it?" he insisted. + +"Something of the sort may have flitted through my head." + +"Well, if I'm not above bribery and corruption--and the rest of +it--that's on my own conscience. In other words, it's my own business. +Your business is--to keep up appearances, and at the same time keep up +the proprieties." + +"That's one way of expressing it!" + +"Yes, again my beastly vulgar way! But I won't stop to apologise because +I know you're in a hurry to settle this question between us once for +all. Because, when it is settled, it _will_ be once for all, so far as +I'm concerned." + +"I see. Go on, please!" + +He looked at her, a long look. "You and I are here alone together," he +said. "Husband and wife! For we _are_ married, you know. Does that make +you shiver--or shudder?" + +"I don't think we _feel_ very married--either of us," Marise answered in +a small, ingratiating voice, like a child's. + +"You don't know how I feel," said Garth. "But I'm not anxious to punish +you by torture for anything you've done, no matter what you may deserve, +so I won't keep you in suspense. You admit that if--we _did_ 'feel +married,' and if--we cared about each other as ordinary new-married +couples do, this 'bridal suite'--as they call it--would be the proper +dodge?" + +"Oh yes," agreed Marise, wondering what he was working up to. Her heart +was beating too fast for her wits to be at their nimblest, but she +hadn't missed those words of his which had either slipped out, or been +spoken with subtle purpose: "If we cared about each other." Only a few +days ago--apparently with his soul in his eyes--he had said that he'd +give that soul to get her for his own. Well, the incredible had +happened, and she _was_ his own--in a way. Was he so disgusted with her +behaviour and motives that he'd suddenly ceased to care? Or was he silly +enough to think it would hurt her if he pretended not to care? Certainly +she had done nothing worse than _he_ had! Whatever he might think, she +had married him largely from pique, to spite Tony Severance; though, of +course, that wasn't to say she wouldn't carry out Tony's scheme when the +time came. Whereas he, John Garth, had accepted a bribe. She was worth a +million dollars to Tony: and the million dollars were worth a basely +caddish act to Garth. + +"You want your friends and the public in general to believe we are the +ordinary loving couple, don't you?" he was asking. + +"Of course. I may have earned them, but I don't _want_ horrid things +said. Especially----" + +"Especially on Severance's account, and because of the arrangements he +proposes to make for your future, I suppose you were going to say. Why +stop?" + +"Because you suppose wrong. I wasn't going to say anything of the kind. +'Especially on account of poor Mums,' were the words on the tip of my +tongue. I stopped--well, I thought it sounded sentimental. Besides, +you'd probably not believe me." + +"I think I would believe you," said Garth. "I don't know you very well +yet, but things that have happened have shown me a bit of what you're +like, inside yourself. You've got plenty of faults. I should say you're +as selfish as they make 'em. You don't really take much interest in +anything that doesn't affect you and your affairs. You've been badly +spoiled, but not quite ruined: and I think you don't enjoy telling +lies." + +"Thank you for your charming compliments!" flashed Marise, the blood in +her cheeks. Spoiled indeed! Everyone said she was wonderfully +_un_spoiled--simple and sweet-natured as a child. Those were the people +who _knew_ her! + +"To get back to a more important subject," went on Garth; "I was going +to tell you that, honestly, one half the reason I took this suite and +made you come to it with me, was for your sake: to have you do the +right, conventional, bridal thing everyone expects of you, and would be +blue with curiosity if you didn't do. The other half was to find out +whether you were capable of rising to an occasion." + +"Rising--how?" questioned Marise. + +"Rising high enough to trust a man to do--after his lights--the decent +thing. Not to carry out a bargain, because there is none. I'd be +breaking no promise if I grabbed you in my arms this moment. I mean, the +decent thing that any man owes any woman who puts herself in his power. +Now I've said enough. You'll understand me better in a minute by going +over this suite, than by listening to an hour's explanation in words. +I'll wait for you here." (They were in the salon.) "Walk round, and draw +your own conclusions. Then come back and tell me what the conclusions +are." + +Marise was quite sharp enough to guess what he meant, but--stepping out +into the azalea-filled entrance hall, she passed the open door of the +beautiful white bedroom. Beyond it was another door. She opened this, +and touching an electric switch, flooded a room with light. + +Here, too, was a bedroom, smaller, less elaborate, more suited to the +occupation of a man than the other. Instead of the carved white wood and +gilded cane of the room next door, the furniture was mahogany, of the +Queen Anne period; and the carpet, instead of pale Aubusson, was the +colour of wallflowers. There were some plain ebony brushes and toilet +things on the dressing-table, and underneath the table were boot-trees. +Evidently Garth had had his belongings brought over from the Belmore! + +A glance sufficed Marise. She went slowly back to the salon where Garth +stood staring down on the display of jewellery on the table. + +"Well?" He looked up with something defiant and oddly sullen about his +face. "You understand my 'plan'?" + +"Yes," said Marise. "I understand. But----" + +"But what? Didn't you try the door between that other room and your own, +and satisfy yourself that it's locked with the key on your side?" + +"I didn't try it," the girl answered, "because--I was somehow sure it +would be like that." + +"Why were you sure?" + +"I don't know, exactly. I was." + +"Your sureness was the result of trust in me, as a decent man in spite +of the fact that you think I'm not a gentleman?" + +"Ye-es, I suppose it was trust." + +"Then why that 'but' just now?" + +"Oh--it's rather hard to put into words what was to come after the +'but'--without hurting your feelings. And I don't want to do that. It +only makes things a lot worse." + +"I don't mind having my feelings hurt. I'm hardened. Besides, if you +hurt mine I'm free to hurt yours if I like in return. Shoot!" + +"Well--I believe you mean what you've said to me--and shown me. I do +trust you--now. But for how long dare I? Can you trust yourself?" + +He smiled down at her; and it _looked_ like a scornful smile, but of +course it couldn't be that. "Your question is easy to answer," he said. +"I trust myself, and shall continue to trust myself, because there's no +temptation to resist. I shall keep to my own half of this suite, with +the less difficulty because I haven't the slightest wish to intrude on +yours. Now you know where you stand. But there's a knock! I suppose +that's your maid." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +A SHOCK AND A SNUB OR TWO + + +It was the maid. It was also Mrs. Sorel, who pushed past Celine and +darted into the hall. + +"My darling!" she shrilled at sight of Marise. "You look as if you'd had +a most horrible shock!" + +It was just this that the girl had had: the shock of her life. She, +undesired--_not_ a temptation! Alone with a man--a mere brute--who had +the strength and the legal right to take her against her will, but +remained cold; did not want her. + +She might have believed this statement to be a sequel to that hint about +"hurting her feelings if he liked," but Garth's face was cold. It might +have been carved from rock. It looked like rock--that red-brown kind. +There was no fierce, controlled passion in the tawny eyes, such as men +on the stage would carefully have betrayed in these situations, or such +as men had far from carefully betrayed to her in real life, disgusting +or frightening her at the time: though afterwards the scene had pleased, +or--well _flattered_ her to dwell on in safe retrospect. It was rather +glorious, though sometimes painful, she'd often said to herself, the +power she had to make men _feel_. Yet this Snow-man didn't feel at all. +He simply _didn't_! You could see that by his icicle of a face. + +"You mustn't worry, dear Mums," soothed Marise. "I'm doing the best +thing for everyone: keeping up appearances! And as Major Garth dislikes +me--I am not his style, it seems--I'm perfectly safe. Safe as if I were +in our rooms, with you." + +Garth gazed gravely at Mrs. Sorel. "She's safer than with you, Madame. I +assure you she's as safe as--as if she were in cold storage." + +Mary gasped. + +Marise laughed. + +But she felt as though she'd read in a yellow newspaper that Miss Sorel +was the plainest girl and the worst actress in the world. + + * * * * * + +Mums was persuaded to go, at last, after having upbraided her daughter, +with tears, for forcing them all--including Lord Severance--into such a +deplorable, such a perilous situation. + +As for the peril, after Garth's words, and still more his _look_, all +thrill of danger and the chance of a fight, with a triumphant if +exhausting close, had died. Marise felt dull and "anti-climaxy," and +homesick for her friends, the dear public who loved and appreciated her. +Celine remained to undress her mistress, having (despite Mrs. Sorel's +advice) brought various articles from Marise's own room. When at last +the bride was ready for bed in a dream of a "nighty" fetched by her +maid, Celine thought of the jewels on a table in the salon. + +By this time the room was empty, Garth having retired like a bear to his +den; and the Frenchwoman took it on herself to transfer the valuables to +the bedroom adjoining. "They will be safer here," she said. "Unless +Mademoiselle--Madame--would like me to carry the cases to the other +suite and put them in the care of Madame his mother." + +"No, leave everything here," directed Marise. + +She had made up her mind not to keep the gifts. They were beautiful, and +she wouldn't have been a woman if she'd not wanted them. But she wanted +still more the stern splendour of handing the spoil back to Garth, +advising him to return the jewels whence they came, since _only +millionaires_ should buy such expensive objects. But she would not of +course take a servant, even Celine--who knew everything and a little +more than everything--into her confidence. + +She gave the Frenchwoman a key (which had been handed her by Garth) to +use in the morning, when the time came for early tea, a bath, and being +dressed. Then, when the maid had departed with a click of the outer +door, an idea sprang into the mind of Marise. At first she thought it +would not do. Then she thought it would. And the more she thought in +both directions, the more she was enmeshed by the idea itself. + +Only half an hour had elapsed since Garth went to his room. The man +wouldn't be human, after what they'd passed through, if he had gone to +bed. Marise was sure he had done no such thing: and she fancied that she +caught a faint whiff of tobacco stealing through the keyhole of that +stout locked door between their rooms. + +At last she could no longer resist the call of the blood--or whatever it +was. She switched on the light again, jumped up, and looked for a +dressing-gown. Bother! Celine hadn't brought one--had taken it for +granted she would use that wonderful thing which Garth's taste--or the +taste of some hidden guide of his--had provided. + +Well, what did it matter, anyhow? She would slip it on--and the +sparkling gold and silver _mules_, too. She glanced in the long Psyche +mirror. She _did_ look divine! Even a rock-carved statue couldn't deny +that! Gathering up the jewels, she unlocked the door which led into the +hall, and tapped at the door of Garth's room, adjoining her own. + +"If you're not in bed," she called, "come out a minute, will you? I've +something important to say." + +All that was minx in Marise was revelling in the thought that presently +Garth would suffer a disappointment. He would imagine that she wished to +plead for grace from him. Then, before he could snub her, she'd give +_him_ the snub of his life--just as he had given her, Marise Sorel, the +shock of hers! + +Garth did not answer at once. The girl was hesitating whether to call +him again, when his voice made her start. It sounded _sleepy_! "I _am_ +in bed," he said. "What do you want? Is it too important to wait till +morning?" + +"It's merely that I wished to put the jewels which were left in the +salon into your charge," Marise replied with freezing dignity. "I do not +think they are safe there." + +"Wouldn't they be safe enough with you?" came grumpily--yes, +grumpily!--through the closed door. + +"No doubt. But I don't wish to have the responsibility, as I don't care +to accept them...." + +"Oh, I see! Well, if that's your decision, it doesn't matter whether +they're safe or not. Leave the things in the corridor if your room's too +sacred for them. If that's all you want, I shall not get out of bed." + +What a man! + +"One would think you were a multi-millionaire!" Marise couldn't resist +that one last, sarcastic dig. "So I may be for all you know. Do what you +like with the silly old jewels." + +Marise threw the cases on the floor as loudly as she could. She knew +that the outer door was locked, and that Celine would be the first +person in, when morning came, so the act wasn't as reckless as it +seemed. But it was a relief to her nerves at the moment. + +The filmy dressing-gown, the sparkling _mules_, the hair down, the +general heartbreaking divineness, were _wasted_. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE DREAM + + +Marise slept little, in what was left of that strange wedding night. + +She tried to think of Tony Severance, who must be suffering tortures +through his love and fears for her. But somehow he had lost importance. +He had become a figure in the background. Her thoughts would turn their +"spot light" upon the man in the adjoining room. + +Was he asleep? Was he awake? Was he thinking about her, and if so, what? +Why had he married her? If it was for love, as she had fancied at first, +could he have treated her as he had? That was hard to believe! Yet it +was harder to believe his motives wholly mercenary. + +"Perhaps that's because I'm vain," the girl told herself. And she +remembered, her cheeks hot, how Garth had accused her of vanity and +selfishness. He'd said that she took no interest in anything which +didn't concern Marise Sorel. She had been angry then, and thought him +unjust and hard. But in her heart she knew that he had touched the +truth. She _was_ vain and selfish. And she was hard, too, just as hard +to him as he to her. + +"_He_ has made me so!" she excused herself. "I was never hard to anyone +else before, in all my life." + +But she could not rest on this special pleading. What right had she to +be hard to this man? She had _asked_ him to marry her. His crime was +that he had granted her wish and consented to play this dummy hand; and +now the deed was done he was not grovelling to her or to Tony Severance. +How much more _British_ he seemed, by the by, than dark, Greek Tony, of +subtle ways! + +At luncheon, talking with Pobbles, he had spoken of Yorkshire as _his_ +county. Marise wondered what he had meant. But, of course, she would not +ask. John Garth's past was no affair of hers. Still, she couldn't stop +puzzling about him. She puzzled nearly all night. He was turning out +such a different man from the man she had vaguely imagined! In fact, he +was different from any man she had ever met, off the stage or on. + +Staring into darkness as the hours passed, Marise felt that she could +not wait for Celine. She'd get up at dawn, dress, and flit to her own +room in Mums' suite. But no! She couldn't do that. She hadn't a key to +that suite. She would have to pound on the door, and other people beside +Mums and Celine would hear. There would be gossip--which she'd +sacrificed much already to avoid. + +Dreading the long night of wakefulness, the girl suddenly dropped fast +asleep, and began at once to dream of Garth. Zelie Marks was in the +dream, too, and--dreams are so ridiculous!--Marise was jealous. What had +happened between the two she didn't know; but she would have known in +another instant, for Zelie was going to confess, if a rap had not +sounded at the door and made her sit up in a fright. Marise was just +about to cry, "You can't come in!" when she realised that it was the +peculiar double knock of Celine. + +The Frenchwoman was prompt, though the night had seemed so long. Her +mistress sipped hot, fragrant Orange Pekoe from an eggshell cup, and in +a whisper bade Celine move quietly, not to rouse Monsieur Garth in the +next room. + +"Oh, Mademoiselle--Madame!" said the maid. + +"Monsieur has gone out, early as it is. His door is wide open." + +Marise must have slept more soundly than she knew. She hadn't heard a +sound. + +It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Celine about the jewel-cases--if +they were lying in the corridor. But she couldn't put such a question! +The maid would be too curious--she would fancy there had been some +vulgar quarrel instead of--instead of--well, Marise hardly knew how to +qualify her own conduct. + +"I'm afraid I _was_ vulgar," she thought, like a child repenting last +night's misdeeds. "It was horrid of me to throw those lovely things on +the floor. Poor fellow, he must have spent a fortune--_somebody's_ +fortune (whose, I wonder?)--on those pearls, and diamonds and emeralds, +and all the rest. Yet I never said one word of gratitude. I was never +such a brute before!... I'm sure it _must_ be his fault. Still--I don't +like myself one bit better than I like him." + +As Garth had gone out, there was no great need for haste. Celine had +brought all that was needed, and Marise might dress--as well as +repent--at leisure. But she was wild with impatience to know whether the +jewels were lying where she had thrown them. While Celine was letting +the bath-water run, the girl peeped out into the flower-scented +corridor. The jewel-cases had gone! + +This discovery gave her a slight shock. She had more than half expected +to see them on the floor, and had wondered what she would do if they +were there--whether she would pick them up and decide to accept the +gifts after all, with a stiff, yet decent little speech of gratitude. +"I'm sure you meant to do what I would like, and I don't wish to hurt +your feelings," or something of that sort. + +_Now_, what should she do? The probability was that Garth himself had +retrieved his rejected treasures. But there was just a chance--such +horrors happened in hotels!--that a thief had pussy-footed into the +suite to search for wedding presents, and had found them easily in an +unexpected place. That would be _too_ dreadful! Because, if +she--Marise--held her tongue, Garth would always believe that _she_ had +annexed the things, and had chosen to be sulkily silent. + +"I shall have to bring up the subject somehow, the next time we +meet--whenever that may be!" she thought ruefully. + +When Mrs. Garth arrived in the maternal suite, it was about the hour +when Miss Sorel had been in the habit of slipping, half-dressed, from +bedroom to salon. It was the time, also, when Miss Zelie Marks was +accustomed to present herself, and begin her morning tasks: sharpening +pencils, sorting letters, etc. But to-day the salon was unoccupied. The +letters lay in a fat, indiscriminate heap, just as Celine had received +them from one of the floor-waiters. + +Mrs. Sorel was still in bed, and still suffering from last night's +headache, which had increased, rather than diminished. She burst into +tears at sight of Marise, but was slowly pacified on hearing the story +of the night. + +"He was afraid to----" she began; but the girl broke in with the +queerest sensation of anger. "He _wasn't_ afraid--of _anything_! +Whatever else he may have been, he wasn't afraid. I don't believe the +creature knows how to be afraid." + +Mrs. Sorel did not insist. She didn't wish to waste time discussing +Garth. She wanted to talk of Tony. There was a letter from him. It had +come by hand, early--sent as he was starting. Of course he hadn't dared +write to Marise direct, but there was an enclosure for her. + +"You had better read it now," advised Mums. "At any moment that man may +turn up, asking for you, and trying to make some scene." + +Marise took the crested envelope that had come inside her mother's note +from Tony; but somehow or other she felt an odd repulsion against it. +She didn't care to read what Tony had to say to Mrs. John Garth at +parting; and she had an excuse to procrastinate because, just then, the +telephone sounded in the salon adjoining. + +"Will you go, dearest? Or shall I ring for Celine?" Mums asked. + +Marise answered by walking into the salon and picking up the receiver. +Her heart was beating a little with the expectation of Garth's voice +from--somewhere. Their own suite, perhaps? But a woman was speaking. + +"Is it you, Mrs. Sorel?" was the question that came. And the heart-beats +were not calmed, for Marise recognised the contralto tones of Miss +Marks, the villainess of her dream. + +"No, it's I, _Miss_ Sorel," she answered. "What's the matter? Aren't you +coming as usual?" + +"I am sorry, no, I can't come," replied the voice across the wire. "I +thought that now--you're married, _Mrs. Garth_, and going away before +long, I should no longer be required. But in any case I----" + +"If we hadn't required your services we should have told you, and given +you two weeks' salary in lieu of notice," snapped Marise professionally. + +"I hardly supposed you had time to think about me, everything was so +confused yesterday," Zelie excused herself. "Anyhow, Mrs. Garth, I must +give notice myself, for I've had news which will take me out of New York +at once. I've got to start by the next train. It doesn't matter about +money. I was paid up only a few days ago. We were just starting +fresh----" + +"I'm sure my mother will wish to pay, and insist upon doing so," said +Marise. "When does your train go?" + +"I'm not certain to the minute," hedged Miss Marks. "But I have to pack. +I----" + +"That won't prevent your receiving an envelope with what we owe you in +it," persisted Marise. "I suppose you're 'phoning from your flat?" + +"Yes--no. Yes. But I'll be gone before a messenger could get here. +_Please_ don't trouble." + +"Very well, give me your address at the town where you're going," Marise +said. "We can post you on a cheque." + +"I can't do that, I'm afraid," objected Miss Marks. "I shall be moving +about from place to place for awhile. It's really no _use_, Mrs. Garth, +thank you--though of course it's kind of you to care. Please say +good-bye to Mrs. Sorel for me. You've both been very good." + +"I wish you'd sent us word last night," said Marise, whose eyes were +bright, and whose hand, holding the receiver, had begun to throb as if +she had a heart in her wrist. + +"I didn't know last night. The news I spoke of came this morning." + +"It must have come early!" + +"It did. Good-bye, Mrs. Garth." + +"Wait just a second. Are you going--West?" + +"Ye-es. For awhile." + +"You can't tell me where?" + +"Oh, several places. Not far from my old home." + +"Did you ever mention where that was?" + +But no answer came. Either they had been cut off, or Zelie Marks had +impudently left the telephone. + +The dream came back to Marise--the dream where Garth and the +stenographer had been whispering together in a room where Marise could +not see them. + +"I believe he's with her now," the girl thought. "I believe when he went +out this morning he went straight to _her_. He's told her to do +something, and she intends to do it." + +To that question, "Are you going West?" Zelie had hesitatingly +responded, "Ye-es." What did it mean? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +ACCORDING TO MUMS + + +That same afternoon, Mary Sorel began a letter to Severance, a letter +embroidered with points of admiration, dashes, underlinings, and +parentheses. + +"Dear Tony," she wrote, for she felt the warm affection of an Egeria, +mingled with that of a mother-in-law elect, for him: and it pleased all +that was snobbish in her soul to have this intimate feeling for an earl. + +"Dear Tony, I shall be cabling you about the time you land, according to +promise. But I promised as well to write a sort of _diary_ letter, +giving you all the developments day by day, and posting the document at +the end of the week. Well, this is the first instalment, written--as +you'll see by the date--on the day of your sailing. + +"How I wish I had better news to give you! But don't be alarmed. Things +are _not_ going as we hoped, yet they might be worse. And now you are +prepared by that preface, I'll try to tell you exactly the state of +affairs! + +"At least, I shall be able to explain a mystery that puzzled and worried +us both yesterday, after the--I suppose in lieu of a better word I'm +bound to call it 'marriage'! Neither you nor I could understand +precisely how _That Man_ had got my poor child so under his thumb, when +by rights _he_ should have been under _her foot_! + +"What he does is this: he simply threatens at every turn to go away and +tell everyone, _including newspaper men_, the whole story from beginning +to end. You might think with an ordinary person that this was all +_bluff_. Because, if the story hurt you and Marise, and even _me_, it +would hurt him as much. But whatever he may be (and he might be almost +_anything_!) he is _not_ an ordinary person. He appears perfectly +reckless of his own reputation. Apparently he cares not enough to lift +his finger, or let it fall, for the opinion of others, no matter _who_. +If he said he would do some dreadful thing it wouldn't be safe to hope +he was merely making an idle threat. He would _do_ it, I'm sure he +would! + +"That's the secret of his power over our poor little Marise, and I must +admit, to a certain extent over _me_. + +"I have been having a long talk with him about the future--the +_immediate_ future, I mean, of course, for the more distant future I +hope and believe will be controlled by _you_! + +"When I reproached the man for browbeating my daughter, he actually +retorted that we had no right to try and pin him to a certain line of +conduct, and not _pay_ him for it! _Shameless!_ But that sample will +show you what we are going _through_. I shall indeed rejoice for every +reason when you are restored to us. You have told me that your cousin +OEnone has what amounts to a million of American dollars, all her own, +and that her father intends giving you another million on your marriage +to her; so you will be in a position to complete your bargain with this +Fiend. In order to obtain the money, he will _have_ to keep his part of +the agreement. + +"Yes, 'Fiend' is the word. Indeed, I used it aloud this afternoon in +addressing him, so utterly did he enrage me. He will not allow Marise to +go with me to Los Angeles and accept the loan of Bell Towers, which you +so kindly placed at our disposal till your return with your poor little +invalid, OEnone. He has a house of his own, out West, it +seems--Arizona or somewhere _wild_-sounding. I believe it's near the +Grand Canyon--wherever _that_ is! And heaven alone knows what it's +like--the _house_, I mean, not the Canyon, which I am told is an immense +abyss miles deep, full of _blood_-red rocks or something terrific. + +"Garth insists that the unhappy child shall accompany him to this +desolate spot, which is more or less on the way to California. The +alternative he puts before her is of course the eternal (I nearly said, +'infernal'!) one, of deserting his bride with a blast of trumpets. +Neither you, nor Marise, nor I, can afford to let _this_ happen! Almost +anything would be preferable at a crisis so delicate for you with your +uncle. Especially as Marise _vows_ that, alone with her, the monster is +not so formidable. In fact, she says she can account for his conduct at +these times only by supposing that he does not like her, or is _in love +with someone else_. + +"I wonder, by the way, do you know at all if he has _any_ money? My +impression, when he so easily accepted your somewhat original offer, was +that he had none. But he made Marise several handsome presents of +jewellery, which must have cost a great deal, _if_ he paid cash! Perhaps +he used his V.C. to get them on _tick_--if such a thing is possible! +Marise refused, quite definitely, she tells me, to take these gifts from +him. To-day, she chanced to ask Garth how he had disposed of them after +her refusal. Though she put the question _most_ tactfully, even +remarking that she was _sorry_ for some little abruptness when returning +the jewel-cases (I don't know details!), the man _denied_ her right to +ask what he had done. Marise persisted, however, in that sweet little +_determined_ way she has, and Garth _at length_ flung out in reply that +he had _given the things to another person_. Imagine it! Marise's +_wedding_ presents! + +"Nothing more was to be got out of him, however. Instinct whispers to me +that the child suspects a certain young woman of having received the +jewels. (Why, such a thing is almost like being a _receiver of stolen +goods_, since surely they're the property of Marise. Not that she +_wants_ or would look at them again!) She did not _tell_ me this. It is +my own heart--the heart of a _mother_--which speaks. All she said was, +that Garth wouldn't mention the name of the receiver, and resented her +'catechising' him. He put the matter like this: If _she'd_ given _him_ +wedding presents, and he practically trampled them under foot, with +scorn, wouldn't she consider herself free to do what she liked with the +objects? Wouldn't she wish to get rid of them and never see them again? +Wouldn't her first thought be to give them away? And how would she feel +if _he_ wanted to know what she'd done with the things? + +"To the three first questions, Marise found herself obliged to answer +'_Yes_.' (She has an almost _abnormal_ sense of justice for a woman, you +know!) To the fourth, she replied in an equally self-sacrificing way, so +in the end the man triumphed. But it was this business of the wedding +presents which (as I've explained to you now) he deliberately _took +back_ (we Americans call this being an 'Indian giver'!) that has made +Marise think he's in love with someone. + +"I may have guessed the person in her mind; but, as you will feel no +interest in _that_ side of the subject, I'll not bore you by dwelling on +it at present. The interest for _you_ in Garth's being in love with a +woman who is _not_ our Marise (no matter who!) is _obvious_. If the +child is right in her conjectures, she is also right, no doubt, in +asserting that she need have no fear the man will lose his head. + +"In reading over what I have just written, I see that I may have given +you a wrong impression. It sounds as if I had resigned myself to see +Marise go off to live alone with Garth in his house by the abyss. Which +is not the case, of course. I shall be with her. That is, I shall be +most of the time--the best bargain I can drive! Except that, naturally, +Celine will _always_ be with her. And if Garth is a Demon, Celine can be +a dragon. She has learned this art from _Me_. She is absolutely +faithful, and devoted to _your_ interests. In order to make sure of her +services when needed in any possible emergency, I have more or less +confided in her, which I think was wise. + +"Now, before I write further, I will set your mind at rest as far as +_possible_. + +"Garth has used the power he holds to the uttermost, and no entreaties +on the part of author or manager have moved him. Marise is to give up +the part of Dolores in a fortnight, and Susanne Neville begins +rehearsing to-morrow! Poor Sheridan, poor Belloc! Poor _play_! Poor +_public_! My daughter is immediately after to start for the West +with her 'husband'--and maid! I wished to be of the party, but Garth +brutally inquired if 'that sort of thing was done in the smart +set'--mothers-in-law accompanying bridal pairs on their honeymoon? If I +wanted gossip, there would be a good way to get it, he said. He is +continually throwing gossip in our faces, whenever we propose anything +he doesn't like! + +"After a most exhausting (to _me_) argument, it was settled that I +should remain in New York for a few days after their departure, and that +I should then leave also, going straight on to Los Angeles. There I will +open beautiful Bell Towers, and see that all is ready for your advent, +with the invalid. Meanwhile Marise is to visit some sort of female named +Mooney, an adopted mother of Garth. She lives near a town called +Albuquerque, which if I don't forget is in New Mexico. You can perhaps +look it up on the map. Garth appears to have cause for gratitude to this +woman, who is an elderly widow. He has spent some years (I don't know +how many, and do not care!) in that State and the neighbouring one of +Arizona; and I gather from one or two words he let drop that he gave +Mrs. Mooney the house she now owns. In any case, he said he _must_ pay +her a visit, not having seen her since the time when he joined the +British forces at the beginning of the war. And if _he_ went, his wife +would have to go with him! + +"The man evidently expected that Marise would object; but in the +circumstances the idea seemed quite a _good_ one! You see _why_, of +course, dear Tony? This old woman will be an extra chaperon for our +girl, whose wild impulsiveness has brought so much worry and trouble to +us all. Garth cannot make scenes before his foster-mother, for the very +shame of it! + +"After a short visit there, he will take Marise and Celine to his own +place: and you may be sure I shall not be long in joining my child, to +give her my protection! + +"Do, my dear son-to-be, hurry on your marriage. You must cable me the +moment you get this, when you are likely to arrive, addressing me here, +where I shall still be at that time. All our difficulties will end when +you are able to hand Garth the million dollars. (I _quite_ understand it +would be imprudent to send a cheque or a letter to him. Who knows what +desperate thing he might do when he had got the money?) The one safe +thing will be a _conversation_, and the money in bonds. Then, as you +suggested, you can dictate a document for Garth to sign, compromising to +_him_ but not to you. You can also dictate terms--as you would have done +from the first, if Marise had not tried to punish you--by punishing +_herself_! But oh, let it be soon--soon! The strain is telling upon my +nerves--and no doubt the nerves of Marise, though she is singularly +reserved with me, I regret to say--one would almost think _sulky_, poor +child! + +"I can't express the pain it gives me to upset you with all these +anxieties. But I dared not keep silence, lest you should learn of this +journey West, and so on, through some garbled story in the newspapers. +You might then think the _worst_; whereas now, you are in the secret of +your dear girl's _safety_. No harm will come to her: and thank goodness +there will be no tittle-tattle to rouse Mr. Ionides's suspicions! + +"I presume you will marry your cousin by special licence, so as to hurry +things on; and I comfort myself by thinking that before many days all +will be _en train_. Perhaps in a fortnight after you reach England you +will be arranging to leave again for the benefit of the invalid's +health. California is the most wonderful place in the world for a cure. +But, of course, the poor OEnone is incurable, and is not likely to be +with you on this earth for more than a year or two at worst--I mean, at +most. + +"When you have settled with Garth, he will have no further excuse to +assert himself. I shall find a house near Bell Towers, and Marise will +come to me. The time of waiting for happiness will pass in the +consolation of warm platonic friendship and lovely surroundings. An +excuse can be found for Marise's divorce; and Garth will pass out of our +lives for ever! + +"Now I have explained everything as well as I can, and I shall add items +of interest each day until time comes for posting my letter. _Au +revoir_, dear Tony! Yours, M. S.--the initials you love!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +"SOME DAY--SOME WAY--SOMEHOW!" + + +If Zelie Marks had been a malicious girl she could, with a few words +through the telephone or on paper, have spoiled at a stroke such few +chances of happiness as remained to Garth. + +The man was completely, almost ludicrously in her power; and Zelie +didn't flatter herself that what he had done was done entirely because +of trust in her. He _did_ trust her, of course. But as the girl set +forth to carry out his wishes, she realised that he had turned to her as +much through a man's blindness as through perfect faith in her unfailing +friendship. + +Friendship! She laughed a little at the word, travelling westward in the +luxurious stateroom for which Garth had paid. What a dear fool he was! +But all men were like that. When they fell head over heels in love with +one woman, they never bothered to analyse the feelings of any other +female thing on earth! + +Yes, that was about all she was in his eyes--a female thing! He had been +in desperate need of help, and she happened to be the one creature who +could give the kind he wanted. + +Some girls would have refused, she thought. Others would have accepted, +and then--behaved like cats. Even she had longed to behave like a cat +when she talked to his "wife" through the telephone. "If Marise Sorel +dreamed of what he's asked me to do, not one of the things he hopes for +could ever by any possibility come to pass," Zelie reminded herself, as +she gazed without seeing it at the flying landscape. "Not that they ever +will come to pass anyhow. But it shan't be _my_ fault that he's +disappointed." + +Miss Marks honestly believed that she was unselfish in her service; yet +something far down in the depths of her prayed to gain a reward for it +in the far, far future. + +The one thing which seemed certain about this wild marriage was, that it +wouldn't last. Sooner or later--probably sooner!--there'd be a divorce. +Then, maybe, Jack Garth would remember what his pal Zelie Marks had done +for him. He'd turn to her for comfort as now he turned for help. +Love--real love--was sometimes born in such ways: and Zelie didn't for +an instant let herself think that Garth's love for Marise Sorel was +_real_. It was infatuation, and was bound to pass when he found out what +a vain, self-centred girl his idol was; whereas Zelie Marks had been +loyally his chum for years. + +Zelie had loved Garth long before the war, when she knew him in +Albuquerque. She was learning stenography then, after her father died, +and when there was no one for her to live with except an aunt. The aunt +was quite a good aunt, and a friend of Mrs. Mooney--Jack's "Mothereen"; +but Zelie had wanted to be independent. Jack and Mothereen had been kind +to the girl; and when Jack began building a house near his beloved Grand +Canyon, for a little while Zelie had tremblingly prayed that it was +meant for her to live in. Later, she had begun to lose hope, but not +wholly. And then the war had broken out in Europe. Almost at once Garth +had dashed over to England and offered his services, on the plea that +his father, a Yorkshire man, had never been naturalised as an American. + +Zelie couldn't rest in Albuquerque after that. She went east, and would +quietly have slipped away after Garth to Europe as a Red Cross nurse if +she hadn't been afraid he would suspect why she followed. Instead, she +stopped in New York, and got work as a stenographer with a firm of +engineers, thanks to an introduction from Jack. When America flung +herself into the war-furnace too, Zelie Marks did train as a nurse: but +in little more than a year came the Armistice, and the girl reluctantly +took up her old profession again. + +Now, she loved Major Garth, V.C., a hundred times more than she had +loved Jack Garth, the smart young inventor. Yet here she was on the way +to Arizona, where she had promised to go and get his house (that house +she had once thought might be hers!) ready to receive another woman! + +When he had come to her flat early in the morning and told her what he +wanted done to "surprise Marise," she had made him some hot coffee, and +agreed to everything. + +"Yes, Jack," she said, "I'll do it, and your wife shall never know, +unless you tell her yourself. And I advise you not to do that, because +if you drop the least hint, she'll hate the house and me, and be angry +with you. Any girl _would_! I'm not blaming her. She shall think that +your house was just waiting, in apple-pie order, her room and all: or +else--yes, _that_ would be best!--she shall think Mothereen did the +whole business. Of course, that's what you'd want Mothereen to do, and +what she'd want to do, if she were strong enough for the task. But as it +is, she shall work just enough, so that she won't have to _fib_--no hard +work to tire her out. She'll love to go to the Canyon with me--the dear +Mothereen!--and she'll have the time of her life." + +So that was Zelie Marks' secret errand. She was to travel straight +through to Kansas City, by the Santa Fe "Limited." There she was to +pause in her journey and purchase a list of things which had never been +supplied for Garth's new house, finished only a short time before the +war: beautiful silver, crystal and fine linen, and the decorations for a +room worthy of a bride like Marise. Kansas City was a big enough town to +provide these things, Garth thought; and as it was many hours nearer the +Grand Canyon than was Chicago, Zelie's purchases would reach their +destination sooner than if she shopped there. + +Garth had to leave much to Zelie's taste, but his advice, "Try to think +what _she_ would like," had hurt. Zelie was to have all the trouble and +pain, yet must strive to please Marise Sorel, not herself. And poor old +Zelie was never to get any credit for the sacrifice! + +Of course, she _had_ got something. She had got Jack's thanks in +advance. He had said, "You're a brick, Zelie! The finest girl there is. +I shall never forget what you're doing for me." And she had got the most +marvellous jewels she'd ever seen except at the opera or at Tiffany's. +But she didn't count them as possessions. She knew they had been refused +by Marise (Jack put it casually, "Stuff didn't make a hit there. I hope +it will with you!"), and Zelie had no intention of keeping Mrs. Garth's +cast-off finery. Just what she would eventually do with what Jack called +the "stuff," she hadn't made up her mind: but the girl felt confident of +an inspiration. + +She had also got money for the trip West, and back, with travel _de +luxe_. She didn't mind accepting that, as she was doing an immense +favour for Jack, which nobody else could or would do. And she didn't +mind his paying an "understudy" to look after her work at the Belmore +till she should return. But she had refused nearly half the money which +Jack had pressed upon her. She simply "wouldn't have it!" she'd +insisted. He had been forced to yield, or vex her: but he had probably +said within himself, "Anyhow, she's got the jewels!" + +How little he knew her, if he could think that!... And so, after all, +the thanks were the biggest part of her reward. + +Tears smarted under Zelie's eyelids now and then, as she thought of +these things while the train whirled her westward: how loyal she was to +her pal, and was going to be in spite of every temptation; how little +Marise deserved the worship lavished upon her; and how much more good it +would do Jack to give his love in another quarter! + +"All the same, I'll do my very, very best," the girl repeated. "I won't +tell Mothereen a single _one_ of the horrid things I think about the +bride. I'll paint her in glowing colours. I'll try and make the house a +dream of beauty, no matter how hard I work. I'll warn Mothereen not to +mention my name, though I'd _love_ to have her blurt it out! But some +day--and some way--I'll somehow get even with Marise Sorel for all she's +made me suffer. And made _Jack_ suffer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +THE END OF THE JOURNEY + + +Marise knew as little as possible of her own country. Her early memories +wavered between New York when things went well, and Brooklyn or even +Jersey City when the family luck was out. Her first experiences on the +stage had given her small parts in New York. Mums had refused fairly +good chances for the pretty girl, rather than let her go "on the road." +Then had come the great and bewildering success as "Dolores," which had +kept the young star playing at one theatre until mother and daughter +transplanted themselves to England. This "wedding trip" with Garth was +the first long journey that Marise had ever made in her native land. + +It was the most extraordinary thing which had ever happened, to be +travelling with Garth--except being married to him! And, after the first +twenty-four hours of "Mrs. John Garthhood," she had not felt "married" +at all, during the fortnight which followed the wedding. + +For one thing, she had been desperately busy preparing to leave the +stage "for good." There were so many people to see! And the person of +whom she had seen least was her husband. He, too, appeared to be busy +about his own affairs, and Marise was rather surprised to discover how +many men (his acquaintances were nearly all men, and men of importance) +he knew in New York. + +Every night he took her to the theatre, and returned to escort her home +in the car he had so extravagantly hired. That was in the _role_ of +adoring bridegroom which he had engaged himself to play! But apart from +luncheons and dinners eaten with wife and mother-in-law on show in +public places, these were the only occasions when they met and talked +together. At night, though Marise still stuck to the bargain and +occupied her room in the "bridal suite," she never knew when Garth +entered his quarters next door, or when he went out. But now, here they +were in a train, destined to be close companions for days on end. + +The girl's restless fear of the unknown in Garth's nature, which had +almost gone to sleep in New York, waked up again. Yet somehow it wasn't +as disagreeable as it ought to have been--and indeed, she had rather +missed it! There was a stifled excitement in going away with him which +interested her intensely; and she was interested in the journey itself. + +Garth had made everything very easy and comfortable for his wife, so far +as outward arrangements went. She had a stateroom (it happened by chance +to be the same in which Miss Marks had travelled a fortnight ago, but +Zelie's vows of "getting even" did not haunt the place), and close by, +Celine had a whole "section" to herself. Garth lurked in the distance, +just where, Marise didn't know. He must, of course, take his bride to +meals, and sit chatting with her for some hours each day in her +stateroom, lest people who knew their faces should wonder and whisper +about the strange honeymoon couple. But so far as Marise could tell, he +seemed inclined to keep his word with her. + +What would Mums--who had sobbed at parting--think if she knew that her +martyred Marise was quite happy and chirpy? Yet so it was! The girl was +keenly conscious of Garth's presence, but she couldn't help being as +pleased as a child with the neat arrangement of her stateroom; with the +coffee-coloured porter whose grin glittered like a diamond tiara set in +the wrong place; with the cream-tinted maid who brought a large paper +bag for her toque, and said, "My! ain't your hat just _sweet_?" and with +the wee wooden houses they passed so close she could almost have +snatched flower-pots from their window-sills, as "Alice" snatched +marmalade, falling down to Wonderland through the Rabbit Hole. That was +just at the start, for soon the train was flashing through fair green +country with little rivers, and trees like English trees. + +Marise laughed aloud at the huge advertisements which disfigured the +landscape; unpleasant-looking, giant men cut out of wood; Brobdingnag +boys munching cakes; profile cows the size of elephants, and bottles +tall as steeples. Then suddenly she checked herself. It was the first +time she had laughed with Garth! He, too, was smiling. Their eyes met. +The man seemed very human for that moment; young, too, and in spite of +his bigness, boyish. What would she have thought of him, she wondered, +if they had met in an ordinary way? + +The train stopped at very few places. Indeed, when in motion it had an +air of stopping at nothing! It was fun going to the restaurant car. Men +stared at Marise, and she saw that some of the women stared at Garth. +Did they admire him? Would _she_ have admired him if she'd seen him for +the first time as well-dressed as he was now, wearing a smart Guards' +tie, and if she had never learned to think of him as a Devil and a +Brute? + +Certainly his hair was nice. It grew well on his forehead, and brushed +straight back it would have had the effect of a bronze helmet if there +hadn't been a slight ripple to break the smoothness. + +"Monsieur Garth has received a telegram in the train," said Celine that +night as she helped "Madame" to undress. "He has no stateroom himself. I +suppose he could not get one. He is in a 'section,' no better than mine. +He is sitting there now reading the telegram. I think he has read it +several times. Perhaps it is from Madame his mother, whom we go to +visit." + +"Perhaps," echoed Marise. But somehow she felt sure it wasn't. It wasn't +about business, either! Strange that you could get telegrams in trains. +He must have told the person to wire; and the person was a woman--Zelie +Marks, most likely. All Marise's resentment against Garth came back, as +her mother would have wished for Severance's sake. + +At Chicago, where they arrived next morning, they had to stop all day +until the Santa Fe Limited left at night. Garth took his wife to "see +the sights." He was quite agreeable, in an impersonal way, and so was +she; but they did not laugh together again. They talked only of the +moment, never planned ahead; yet Marise's thoughts kept flying on to the +end of the journey, and what life would be like then. + +The morning after brought them to Kansas City, where Zelie, bound on her +secret mission, had got off to buy beautiful things for the far-away +house. But Major and Mrs. John Garth did not get off. They went on and +on, till the flat country of waving grass turned to red desert dotted +darkly with pines, and having here and there a mysterious mound like an +ancient tumulus. Instead of homely villages there were groups of adobe +houses, such as Marise vaguely pictured in Africa. Out of the hard +scarlet earth pushed grey rocks like jagged teeth of giant, buried +skulls; and at last it seemed that the train was rushing straight to the +setting sun where it would be engulfed in fire. + +Now and then when the girl glanced at Garth, who was absorbed in the +wistful ecstasy of homecoming, it occurred to her that he had changed. +His eyes were more tawny than ever they had been. Perhaps it was the red +reflection shining up into them! Now she understood better than before +why they had looked like the eyes of a lion that sees his lost and +distant desert. This was Garth's desert--_his_, and he loved it! A queer +little thrill of involuntary sympathy ran through her. She felt that it +might be in her also to love this wild rose-red and golden land, with +its dark, stunted trees, and the draped Indian figures silhouetted on +slim ponies against a crystal sky. It appealed to something in her soul +that had never yet found what it wanted. It made her feel that she was +very little in her outlook, her aspirations, but that she might some day +grow to a stature worth while. + +It was morning--late morning--when they reached Albuquerque, once +settled and named by Spanish explorers. As the train drew into the +station Marise glanced out with veiled eagerness. Yes, she _was_ eager, +but she didn't want Garth to know that. It would please him too +much--more than it was safe to please him, maybe! + +There was a surprisingly delightful hotel built in old Spanish style, +which seemed to be part of the station itself: and on the platform were +knots of Indians so picturesque that the girl nearly cried out in sheer +pleasure. + +Garth had come into the stateroom to help gather up her things. She had +been wondering for some moments at the strained frown between his +eyebrows when he should have been smiling with joy. Suddenly he spoke. + +"Marise" (he always called her Marise, and she had ceased to resent it), +"there's something I want to ask you to do. I kept putting it off, but +now the last minute has come. You know I think a lot of Mrs. Mooney, my +adopted mother, don't you?" + +"You've told me so. And it goes without saying, as you had an _idee +fixe_ that you must make her this visit at any cost," Marise replied. + +"At any cost--that's just it," he repeated. "Well, she's as +old-fashioned as you're new-fashioned. She couldn't understand a motive +for marriage except love--she'd hardly believe there was any other! I +don't want to shock or worry her if I can avoid it. Will you please help +me out in keeping her as happy about--us, as you reasonably can?" + +"Of course I don't want to hurt her," said Marise. "I hate hurting +people--as a general rule, though you mayn't believe it. What do you +want me to do--something special?" + +"Yes. Could you bring yourself to call me 'Jack' before her? She'd +notice if you always called me 'You,' as you do--as you have since I +pointed out that 'Major Garth' didn't fit the situation." + +"Certainly. That's easy enough!" Marise reassured him. "I'm not an +actress for nothing. Many a man whom I wouldn't dream of calling by his +Christian name off the stage has had to be 'dearest' and 'darling' +_on_!" + +Garth flushed darkly, she could not quite guess why. "Thank you," he +said. "We'll consider ourselves in the theatre, then, when we're at +Mothereen's, playing--don't you say?--'opposite' parts. I'll try and +make yours not too hard. I don't know whether she'll have come to the +depot to meet us or not, but--hurrah, _there_ she is!" + +His voice rang out as Marise had never yet heard it ring. Yes, she had +once--just for an instant--that first Sunday when he said, "I would sell +my soul for you!"--or some foolish words of the kind. + +Since then, she had forgotten those tones, and thought his voice hard; +but now its warmth and mellowness brought back a memory. + +The train was stopping. In front of a wonderful window full of Indian +curios stood a little woman looking up and waving a handkerchief. She +was dressed in black, with the oldest-fashioned sort of widow's bonnet. +And if you'd seen her on top of the North Pole, you would have known she +was Irish. + +Garth flung a window up, and shouted, "Mothereen!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +SECOND FIDDLE + + +The next thing that Marise knew, she was on the platform, being hugged +and kissed by the little woman in black, admired by a pair of big, +wide-apart blue eyes under black hair turning grey, smiled at by a kind, +sweet mouth whose short upper lip showed teeth white as a girl's. + +Not even Mums had ever hugged or kissed Marise like that! There had +always been just a perceptible holding at a distance lest hair or laces +should be rumpled. But there was no dread of rumpling here! Marise knew +that Mrs. Mooney wouldn't have cared if her hair had come down or her +funny old bonnet had been squashed flat. There was something oddly +delicious, almost pathetic--oh, but _very_ pathetic as things really +were between her and Garth!--in being taken to that full, motherly bosom +where the heart within beat like the wings of a glad bird. +Suddenly--perhaps because she was tired and a little nervous after her +immense journey--Marise wanted to cry in the nice woman's neck, which +smelt good, like some sort of warm, fresh fruit. But she didn't cry. She +smiled, and behaved herself well, as Mrs. Mooney turned her affectionate +attentions to "Johnny." + +"Sure, boy," she said, when Garth had come in for a full share of +caresses, "your bride's beautiful. You didn't tell me _half_, and +neither did----" + +But Mothereen broke off short, and squeezed the gloved hands of Marise, +shaking them up and down to cover an instant's confusion. She had been +solemnly warned by Zelie that the name of Marks was taboo, and now she +had nearly let it out! + +"There's an automobile waiting," she hurried on. "Not that I've got one, +or the likes of one, meself, but ye're from N'York, me dear, and I felt +it would be the right thing to have." + +"So it is, Mothereen," said Garth. "Now I'll just get the 'shuvver' to +help me with our bags and things----" + +"Not yet, boy, please," she begged excitedly. "There's a lot of folks +waitin' for the good word with ye, the minute we've had our meetin' +over. I couldn't keep 'em from comin', Johnny, honest I couldn't, try as +I might. I believe if we had a carriage instead of an auto to drive home +in, they'd take out the horses and draw ye along themselves, singin' +'Hail the Conquerin' Hero'!" + +As if her words were a signal, a crowd of men and women, mostly young, +burst out from the hotel, or from the Indian museum with its window +display of brilliant rugs, totems, turquoises, black opals, and chased +silver. "Hurrah for our Jack! Hurrah for our V.C.!" they yelled. + +Marise was taken aback and hardly knew what to do. It was so odd to hear +roars of applause which were not for _her_! + +It wasn't that she wanted the roars, or envied the embarrassed recipient +of the unexpected honours; but it _was_ strange to stand there--she, the +famous and beautiful Marise Sorel--with no one looking at or thinking +anything about her at all. + +Garth _was_ a V.C., of course, and worthy of praise for brave deeds he +must have done (she'd never heard what they were, or thought very much +about them!), yet it did seem funny, just for the first surprised +moment, that these creatures should be so wild over him without caring +an atom for her! + +"Oh, darlint, and ain't we two women proud of him!" gasped Mothereen, +squeezing the girl's arm convulsively. + +Marise glanced down at the plump, black-clad form quivering with emotion +at the sight of Garth being shaken hands with and pounded on the back. +"Yes, we are," she echoed kindly, for she would not have pained the dear +woman for anything on earth. + +"I shall have my work cut out for me, while I'm in her house, if she +expects me to be chorus for her adopted son," the transported favourite +told herself. "But she is a darling, and I'll do my best for the few +days I'm here, at--well, at _almost_ any price." + +When Garth's old friends had thrown themselves upon him like a tidal +wave, the reflex action came, and they were willing to meet and be nice +to his wife. Male and female, they saw that she was tremendously pretty +and smart. Many knew who she was, and had heard of her success, even +though they had never seen her on the stage. But what was a star of the +theatre, compared with a hero of the war? Garth was It. Marise was only +It's second fiddle. + +"Isn't he great?--fine?--wonderful?" were the adjectives flung at her +head by gushing girls. "I suppose he lets you wear his V.C.?" a man +pleasantly condescended. Everyone was sure, as Mothereen had been sure, +that she must be "very proud" of the splendid husband she'd been lucky +enough to catch. + +Marise smiled as she pictured what Mums' expression would have been +among these adorers of the Fiend, the Brute, beings from another world, +for whom the celebrated Miss Sorel was nobody. Really, the scene on this +platform was like a village green in a comic opera, with all the minor +characters dancing round the tenor! + +At last Garth--happy yet ill at ease and half ashamed--contrived to +rescue his mother and wife. They got to the motor-car waiting outside +the station; but there they collided with a new procession, belated yet +enthusiastic. It was, "Garth forever!" again: more shouts of joy, more +slaps, more introductions to the harmless, necessary bride. + +Even when the three had ambushed themselves in the car, boys hung on +behind, singing, "For he's a jolly good fellow!" and girls threw flowers +in at the windows. + +"This is the happiest hour of my life since I first met up with ye, +Johnny dear," choked Mothereen, wiping her smiling eyes. "And I'm sure +it's the same for you, isn't it, my child?" + +"Oh yes--ye-es!" responded Marise. + +Garth laughed. + +The town of Albuquerque was very Spanish-looking. Indeed, it would have +been strange if it were not so, since the Spanish had built much of it +in the Great Days of their prime, hundreds of years ago. It was on the +outskirts of the place that Mrs. Mooney lived, in a house--as she +explained to Marise--"architected for her by Johnny himself." + +"He and I lived here together after he brought me back to me +dearly-loved west, from N'York," she went on; "as happy as turtle-doves +till the war broke on us. That house at the Canyon where he's takin' +you--the later the better, because I want to keep ye here as long as I +can!--was never for _me_. He thought he'd like to go and brood over his +work in it, all alone, once or twice a year. He felt as if that Grand +Canyon would be a kind of inspiration. I doubt if it ever popped into +his head in those times that he'd be takin' a pretty young wife like a +princess from a fairy tale there some day. Not that aught except a +fairy-tale princess would be good enough for him." + +Marise did not answer. What was there to say? But they had arrived at +Mothereen's house. + +It, too, was Spanish, in a modern, miniature way, and Mothereen +explained it to Marise. "Johnny wanted to build me something bigger and +more statuesque like," she said. "But I wouldn't let him. I love a +little house. I'm at _home_ in it. I have no grand ways. I hope it's the +same with you, me dear! Though for sure it will be, on yer honeymoon, +with the best boy in the wurruld, just back safe from the terrible war! +Ze--I mean _he_--did speak of a 'suite' to put the two of ye up in, but +I warrant ye won't be the one to say yer quarters are too small!... Come +in, will ye? And welcome ye both are as the sunshine after rain!" + +Marise obeyed the arm round her waist, but a presentiment of trouble was +upon the girl. She foresaw a dilemma. And it had two long horns. She was +between them! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +MOTHEREEN + + +Mothereen led them over the house, which was built in bungalow style, +all on one floor, saying to Garth, "Do you remember this? Do you +remember that?" and pointing out to Marise details upon which she could +hang some anecdote of "Johnny." + +"But I've saved the best for the last," she announced. "Now I'm going to +take ye to your '_suite_,' as Ze--as it's fashionable to call it. Ye +know, Johnny, the spare bedroom with the bath openin' out? Well, I've +added onto it the little sewin'-room, done up the best I could in a +hurry. And if that doesn't make a 'suite,' what _does_? There's no door +from one room into the other, that's the trouble! I'd a' had one cut if +there'd been time, but there wasn't. Still, it's the next room, and the +two of ye will have the whole use of it, so I hope the dear gurrl will +excuse the deficiencies." + +"I'm sure there won't be any deficiencies!" exclaimed Marise graciously. +Garth was right to love his "Mothereen"! She was certainly an adorable +woman, and too delicious when she rolled out a long word. The girl was +pleased to hear that there was no door between her room and Garth's. Not +that he was likely to annoy her. But--who could tell if he would not be +different here in his own home, where everyone made a hero of him, from +what he had seemed in _her_ New York? It was just as well that she was +to be on the safe side. + +"What a pretty room!" she cried out, as, with a proud housewifely look, +Mothereen flung open a door. "Why, it's lovely! Is this mine?" + +"Of course it's yours, darlin'--yours and Johnny's," said Mothereen, +beaming with pleasure at such praise. "Come and look out of the window, +ducky. John knows what's there, but 'twill be a surprise for you." + +Still clasped by the plump arm, Marise crossed the polished floor, which +was spread with beautiful Indian rugs. The walls were white, and hung +with a few good pictures of desert scenery and strange Indian mesas. The +furniture was simple, but interesting: made of eucalyptus wood, pink as +faded rose-leaves against its white background; and everywhere were +bowls of curious Egyptian-looking Indian pottery, filled with roses. The +one immense window took up nearly all one end of the room, and opened +Spanish fashion upon a garden-court with a fountain, a marble bench, and +a number of small orange trees grouped together to shade the seat. + +"'Twas Johnny's idea," Mothereen explained, when Marise had complimented +the court. "The next room looks on it, too. And now ye'd both better +come and see what I've done with that same!" + +She led the way out again, and opened the door of an adjoining room. "I +do hope ye'll like it too!" she said. "It's yer own little sittin'-room, +and you two turtle-doves can have yer breakfast here by yerselves if ye +like." + +With all her goodwill towards "Mothereen," Marise could not repress a +slight gasp, or a stiffening of the supple young figure belted by the +kind woman's arm; for her first glimpse of the room gave her an electric +shock. The room _was_ a "sittin'-room," and nothing else. + +"Is anything wrong, darlin'?" anxiously asked Mothereen. + +Marise hesitated. Involuntarily she glanced over her shoulder at Garth, +who was close behind. She met his eyes, which implored hers. + +"Oh no, indeed!" the girl protested. "It's--it's charming. I was +thinking of something else for an instant." + +"Ye're _sure_ everything's all right?" Mothereen persisted, her pretty +brows puckered. + +"Quite sure. Thank you _so_ much!" + +"Nothing ye'd like to have me change?" + +"Nothing at all," Marise consoled her, in a strained tone. + +"Well then, I'm glad, and I'll leave ye to yerselves for a while. Come +out to me when ye feel like it and not before--one or both. And ye'll be +welcome as the flowers in May." + +She kissed Marise and snuggled her cheek, rosy and fresh as an apple, +against the arm of her adopted son. Then she was gone with a parting +smile, and Garth shut the door. + +"That was mighty fine behaviour of yours, and I thank you with all my +heart," he said to Marise. + +She had dropped into a chair, tremulous about the knees. "You needn't +thank me," she answered. "What I did was for _her_." + +"I know. That's why I thank you," said Garth. "I think a lot more about +Mothereen's feelings than I do my own. Mine are case-hardened--hers +aren't, and never could be. You see, she's fond of me." + +"I do see! So is everybody else--here, it seems." + +"They're warm-hearted folks out in the West. They love to make a noise. +I hope you weren't disgusted." + +"No, I liked them," said Marise. "They seemed so sincere. And Mrs. +Mooney is the dearest little woman. I'd have my tongue cut +out--almost!--rather than she should be sad. But now the question is, +what's to be done? I tried to help you. You must help me." + +"I will," Garth assured her. "It's going to be all right." + +"But how--without hurting her?" Marise looked round the room. "You can't +sleep on that little sofa." + +"I can sleep on the floor rolled up in a blanket. That would have seemed +a soft billet in France." + +"You'd be wretchedly uncomfortable. And how would you bathe?" + +"I guess you don't need to worry yourself about that detail. I'll manage +the business in one way or other." + +"That sounds vague! What's become of the room which used to be yours in +this house, before you went to the war?" + +"Your bedroom next door is the one. The only spare room we had in those +days was this, where we're sitting now. We never had any people come to +stay, though, so Mothereen turned it into a sewing-room." + +"I see! And you can't slip out to an hotel or anywhere, because every +human being in town knows you." + +"No, I can't slip out. But--well, we _are_ married!" + +Marise started, and stared. Her eyes opened wide. She looked ready to +spring up and run away. + +"All I was going to say is this," Garth went on. "There's a big screen +or two in your room, I noticed. Perhaps, as you're kind enough not to +want me to go unwashed, you'd stretch a point, and let me walk through +to the bath with a couple of screens in position. We needn't stay more +than two days and nights, the way things have turned out. Mothereen will +be disappointed, but her feelings won't be hurt because I shall take +steps to get a wire from a friend of mine at the Grand Canyon. The +friend will tell me that I'm needed at once on a matter of importance. +That'll do the trick. And Mothereen can make up for lost time by +visiting me--us, at Vision House." + +"Vision House!" + +"Yes, I named it that. You wouldn't be interested in the reason why." + +Marise felt that she would be interested, but didn't care to say so. + +"You wouldn't mind her coming to the Canyon?" he asked. + +"Of course not! I should be delighted. That is, if I were there." + +"You would be there." + +"I mightn't. You see--things will change. Mums will come, and--and--I +shall go away--with her. You know what will happen." + +"Who knows anything about the future? But let it take care of itself. +There's plenty to think of in the present, isn't there?" + +"Too much!" + +"Not for me. Can you bring yourself to agree to that plan I proposed? +The screen----" + +"Oh, I suppose it's the only thing to do! I've played bedroom scenes on +the stage, and this----" + +"Very well. That's settled, then." + +"Ye-es. Except--about your belongings. I suppose Mrs. Mooney is sure to +run in now and then to see how--we--are getting on." + +"I'm afraid she will. Unless we tell her to stay out." + +"We won't do that! I suppose your toilet things will have to be in _my_ +room--on that tallboy with the mirror which Mrs. Mooney evidently meant +for them." + +"If you can bear the contamination!" + +Marise glanced at him. But he did not speak the words bitterly. He was +faintly smiling, though it was not precisely a gay smile. She wanted to +smile back, but feared to begin again with "smiling terms," so she +replied gravely that it could be quite well arranged. "I'll +explain--enough--to Celine, and she'll unpack for you," the girl +suggested. + +"That's a kind thought!" said Garth. And then, as if satisfied with the +way in which troublesome matters had shaped themselves, he got up. "I +expect you'd like to have your maid in now, to help you," he suggested. +"You can ring, and I'll go and have a chin with Mothereen." + +Celine was lodged at a distance, but there was a bell communicating with +her quarters. She came, in an excited mood. + +"But it is a house of charm, Madame!" she exclaimed. (It had ceased to +seem strange, now, being "Madamed" by Celine.) "Monsieur Garth--the two +domestics who have for him an adoration, say he built it. And he has +another place larger and more beautiful, where we go. It is, then, that +Monsieur is rich." + +Marise did not answer. But she would have given something to do so, out +of her own knowledge. Garth and all his circumstances, and surroundings, +were becoming actually mysterious to her. She was puzzled at every turn. + +"You mustn't gossip with the servants here, Celine," she said. + +"But no, naturally not, Madame!" protested the maid. "I will listen to +all they say, and speak nothing in return. So Madame wishes the effects +of Monsieur placed in this room? _Parfaitement!_ It shall be done." + +Luncheon was outwardly a happy meal. Mothereen so radiated joy in her +adored one's return that Marise was infected with her gaiety of spirit. +After all, life was only one adventure after another, and this was an +adventure like the rest. Well, not exactly _like_ the rest! But at +least, it was not dull! + +All the afternoon there were callers, and Mothereen broke it to the +bride and bridegroom that, without being disagreeable, she could not +avoid inviting a "few folks to dinner, and some to drop in later." "The +dinner ones are our grand people," she explained to Marise, "the Mayor +and his wife, and a son who is a Colonel. He has married a French wife. +She is very stylish, and she'll have on her best clothes to-night. They +say she's got grand jewels. But sure, they won't hold a candle to +yours." + +"I haven't brought many with me, I'm sorry to say," replied Marise. + +Mothereen's face fell for an instant, then brightened. "Oh, I clean +forgot," she exclaimed. "The beautiful things I have waitin' fur ye. +They'll be on yer dressin'-table to-night. Now, not a wurrud, darlin'! +Ask me no questions, I'll tell ye no lies. This is a _secret_." + +Intrigued, Marise became impatient to go to her room, but could not +escape there till it was time to dress. Celine was already on the spot, +preparing her mistress's dress for the evening: bridal white frock, +scintillating with crystal; little slippers, silk stockings, a petticoat +of rose-embroidered chiffon and lace. + +But Marise did not cast a glance at these things. She walked straight to +the dressing-table, and couldn't help giving a little squeak. For there +lay the missing jewel-cases--those she had thrown into the corridor at +the Plaza Hotel on her wedding night--and had never seen since. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +THE WHITE DOVE + + +Marise and Garth neatly arranged their life according to stateroom +etiquette on shipboard. When one was in the bedroom the other was in the +sitting-room next door. They were like the figures of the man and woman +who come out and go in at the adjacent doors of a barometer; and the +plan, though inconvenient, was not unworkable. When the girl had opened +the jewel-cases and gazed once more at the glories she had thought lost +forever to her repentant eyes, she couldn't resist tapping on the wall +with a gold-backed hair-brush--one Garth had given her. Indeed, she did +not stop to think better of the impulse. + +Her heart--or some distantly related muscles round the organ--had +suddenly warmed towards the man. This thaw was doubtless produced by +remorse. For she had believed, on no evidence save instinct, that he had +given these lovely things--_her_ wedding presents, although +discarded!--to Zelie Marks. Instead, he must have expressed them to Mrs. +Mooney in order that she--Marise--should have a chance to change her +mind. Foxy of him, because it would be difficult to refuse the gifts +again, coming as they did from the innocent hands of Mothereen! However, +she would see. She'd have a talk with Garth, and then decide. + +Garth was in the sitting-room, pretending to himself that he was +interested in the evening paper. He jumped up at the sound of a tap on +the wall, hardly believing his own ears. But a knock at Marise's door +brought a "Come in!" which did not sound grudging. + +Marise in a so-called _robe de chambre_ was more dressed than in +"Dolores's" third act ball-gown at the theatre, yet there was such a +bizarre touch of intimacy in being admitted to this bedroom scene on the +stage of life that numerous volts of electricity seemed to shoot through +Garth's nerves. His face was composed, however, even stolid. "You wanted +me?" he asked. + +Marise didn't directly answer that question. She pointed to the +jewel-cases. "Mrs.--Mooney put these here," she said. "I--wanted to tell +you I'm glad they weren't stolen or--anything." + +Her words gave him time to swallow his surprise, which was quite as +great as her own had been at sight of the jewels. But he guessed at once +what had happened. What a trump Zelie was! A grand girl! She'd make a +fine wife for someone. He'd been a clumsy ass to force these things upon +her in a moment of fury against Marise; and Zelie had done exactly +right. He was immensely grateful. Some day he must find a way to repay +her for silently handing him a big chance--a chance that might mean a +lot, which but for her thought, her generosity, he would have missed. + +Well, it was up to him not to miss it now! He'd been an idiot over these +baubles once. He mustn't "fall down" over them again; and to let Marise +guess how he'd bungled--how a girl she didn't appreciate yet had +straightened matters out--would be to prove himself a priceless ass. + +"Thank you for saying that," he quietly replied. + +"I did tell you once before that I was sorry I'd thrown the jewel-cases +on the floor. It was _horrid_ of me. I felt afterwards I'd been most +ill-bred," vouchsafed Marise. + +"No. More like a bad-tempered child," said Garth. + +"You weren't nice to me when I tried to apologise," the girl went on. + +"Were you trying to apologise? Sorry! I didn't understand." + +"What did you think I was trying to do?" + +"Did you ever see a small boy take a stick, and stir up some beast in +its cage at a Zoo? If you did, you'll know." + +Marise laughed. "What sort of a beast?" + +"Any sort with a sore head." + +"Well--to change the subject," she said rather hastily, "let's talk not +about beasts, but about jewels. I've apologised. And now officially I +put these valuable things into your hands." + +"I'd rather leave them in yours," said Garth. + +"But--I told you before I really couldn't keep them--in the +circumstances." + +"Haven't the circumstances changed--just a little?" + +"I--don't quite see how you mean." + +"Don't you? In that case, I suppose they haven't. Won't _you_ change, +then--enough to keep the things, as I've no use for them?" + +"I'm afraid I can't. You may have a use for them some day, you know." + +"What use? I don't seem to see Mothereen in pearls and laurel wreaths." + +The picture called up made them both smile. "No, but you won't--won't be +bound to me for ever," Marise explained, her cheeks growing pink. +"There'll be some other girl; a girl that perhaps you haven't even met, +yet----" + +"Never on God's earth will there be a girl for me, that I haven't met." + +Remembrance of a girl he _had_ met darted through the mind of Marise. +Zelie Marks! Was the same thought in his mind? she wondered. + +"Who can tell about these things?" she murmured vaguely. "Anyhow, you +must please take charge of your jewels now." + +"But you said this morning you wouldn't like to hurt Mothereen's +feelings." + +"What have her feelings to do with the jewels?" + +"Just this. She's been keeping them for the great day--the day of our +coming. She knows they were my wedding present to you----" + +"Then she knows that you were shockingly extravagant." + +"Perhaps she doesn't think so. She's better acquainted with my +circumstances than you are. Anyhow, she's looking forward to seeing you +all dolled up in the things to-night, and it'll be a blow for her if +you're not. She won't say a word to you. Only she's sure to ask me----" + +"Oh, all right! I'll wear the lot!" snapped Marise. She spoke rather +crossly, but Garth was not dashed. He was, indeed, happier than he had +been since his wedding day. His dummy hand might have scored a success +once or twice before during the strange fortnight they had passed +together, yet a world apart. He wasn't certain. But he was certain of +this: it was a small triumph. He had a "hunch" that, when the girl had +once seen herself in the pearls, the pendant, and the wreath of emerald +laurel leaves, she wouldn't be anxious to give them up. + +"That's very good of you," he thanked her formally. "I'm obliged to you +for Mothereen's sake as well as--but no matter for the rest. It's +nothing to you, of course." + +As he spoke, Garth walked to the door without waiting for a hint from +Marise. "You'll want to go on dressing," he said, "so as to leave the +place clear for me." Then, without another word, he went out and shut +the door. + +Marise stared at herself in the mirror. "You might have two noses--or +none--for all the notice he took of your looks," she told her +reflection. + +History repeated itself that evening. The guests were all +hero-worshippers, as the crowd had been at the station. The bride was +admired. No one could help admiring her. Face, figure, hair, clothes, +and jewels were all wonderful. But even those who seemed to admire her +most blatantly betrayed their opinion that she was a lucky girl to have +got Jack Garth--she, only an actress! + +Some of the people had come a long distance to welcome home the V.C. +from the great war, and among these were a young couple who interested +Marise, because they appeared so frankly in love with each other. What +their last name was, she didn't learn. Mothereen must have thought that +she had heard of them from Garth. "Here are Billy and Cath," she +introduced them, adding, "This is our dear Marise." + +Billy was in the Army, and had fought in France when America "went in." +He was stationed somewhere--Marise didn't know where--and Cath had been +a "war bride." She looked delicate, though pretty; and another girl +whispered to Marise, "Cath was never strong, but when Billy was reported +missing a year ago she went right down, and the doctors thought she'd +got T.B. My, you don't know what _T.B._ means? Everyone out here knows +only too well, because the climate in these parts and Arizona is so +good, lots of 'em come to get cured. Consumption, of course. But joy's +the best medicine in the world. You can realise how it would be with you +if it had been your gorgeous Jack! I guess Cath will get well now, +though she isn't quite right yet--and I don't suppose Billy'd have let +her take such a trip for anyone but Jack Garth." + +They had motored from "home," wherever that was, in what they called a +"tin Lizzie," and Billy had driven the car himself. When everyone else +was gone, Cath was still in the house, for there was trouble with +"Lizzie," and Garth had gone out with his friend to see what it was. + +Cath looked very tired, but her eyes were bright, and a pink flush high +on her rather thin cheeks melted into shadows under thick dark lashes. +She talked excitedly to Marise about "Jack and Bill," telling the +stranger anecdotes which would have thrilled a loving bride, but now and +then she glanced wistfully at the door. + +At last the two men came back, and the girl half sprang up. "I was +getting worried!" she cried. "Is Lizzie going to behave herself?" + +"That's what I wish I was sure of," said Billy. "The little brute is in +the sulks, and not even Jack can get at the reason, so it must be pretty +deep-seated. Still, she may bump us home if I coax her along." + +"Good gracious, boy!" exclaimed Mothereen. "That'll never do for Cath! +Why, you might be stuck for hours. You and she must stay here and we'll +lend you what you need." + +"Oh, thank you, darling!" Cath answered. "That would be wonderful. I +_am_ tired. But are you sure you've room to squeeze us in, now you've +got Jack and his wife with you?" + +Mothereen started. "My saints!" she gasped. "I'd forgotten we'd made a +suite for them. But that doesn't matter a bit. There'll _be_ room. And +you'll stop." + +Billy and Cath protested. They wouldn't upset the house for worlds. It +wasn't so late but Bill could go into the town and knock up the folks at +a hotel. + +"Nothing of the sort," Mothereen scolded. "We'll have a cot bed put into +my room--mine's too narrow for two; and sure I am that Marise won't mind +my having a bunk fixed up for the night in her sitting-room." + +Fortunately Cath and Bill were both talking too fast at the same time to +notice the expression of the bride's face, and Mothereen was looking at +them. With all her wish not to hurt Mothereen, the line had to be drawn +somewhere. Marise, trying to control her face, glanced at Garth. Her +eyes said, "This is up to you. You've got to save me. Think of +something, quick!" + +"Of course, nobody'll hear of your turning out, Mothereen!" Garth flung +himself into the breach. "I expect Marise will invite Cath in to chum +with her. Then Bill and I will shift for ourselves. We----" + +But an outcry from Cath, Bill, and Mothereen cut his words in two. None +of them would hear of such a thing. Part a honeymoon pair like that? +Never! It would be a crime. + +"Why shouldn't Cath and I have that sitting-room if Mrs. Garth can spare +it?" asked Bill. + +"We-ell," Mothereen temporised, and glanced with a smile at Marise. +"What do you say, darling?" + +It was a terrific moment for the girl. It was worse than not knowing +your part on the first night of a new play. Again her eyes turned to +Garth. But this time he was caught unprepared. He missed his cue, and +looked agonised. Marise believed that he was thinking of Mothereen more +than of her. Still, she was sorry for the man. She just couldn't "let +him down" before his adored one and his friends. Besides, she had never +quite forgotten the ring of his voice on the night after the wedding +when he had bidden her trust him. In his strange way--such as it was--he +had never failed her since. No, she _wouldn't_ let him down! + +"What do I say?" she answered Mothereen. "I say 'Yes,' of course. +I'm--delighted! Can't we all help to make up their beds, and bring in +washstands and things?" + +They all did help. And everyone lent Cath and Bill something--"for +luck." Garth contributed pyjamas for his friend. Mothereen kept a supply +of new toothbrushes of all sizes and qualities. Cath squeaked with joy +over the "nighty" Marise offered. + +Then at last came the moment for bidding each other "sleep well!--sweet +dreams!" The door of Cath and Bill's bedroom shut. Mothereen followed +Marise into her quarters adjoining, kissed and complimented her, and +called Garth, who was looking at a picture of himself in his first +British uniform, enlarged to enormous size in crayon, framed in gilt and +hung up in the hall. + +"Marise has sent her maid to bed," Mothereen explained. "She was tired +after the journey--a train headache. I thought I could undo this lovely +wreath for her, but I can't. Will you try?" + +Garth tried. He'd never touched the girl's hair before. Its ripples were +so soft--so soft! He had not known that a woman's hair could feel so +divine as that. For an instant he was afraid that a certain unsteadiness +of his fingers would make him awkward. But he almost prayed that it +might not, and the prayer--if it was a prayer--had its answer. He +happened to be particularly deft. The emerald laurel wreath yielded its +secret to him, and without disturbing one of those wonderful golden +waves, he laid the glittering thing on the table. + +"Well, I'll say good night, then, me dear ones," said Mothereen. "It's +made me as happy as a bird, sure it has, to see your happiness. The Lord +is good to us all, He who brought Johnny back, safe and sound, out o' +the Furnace. His blessin' on ye both this night!" + +Then she was gone. + +Her words had brought a sense of peace into the room, as if a white dove +had flown in. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE VIGIL LIGHT + + +"I'll go and rouse up one of the hotels," said Garth. + +"But you're in evening dress," Marise reminded him. "You can't come back +like that in the morning. Besides, what would the people think?" + +"Hang the people!" Garth replied. + +"One can't--unfortunately." + +"Well, here's a better plan. I'll sit outside in the garden court. I can +come in--if you'll let me--before there's any chance of being seen." + +Marise shivered. "It would be cold!" + +"Pooh!" said Garth. "It's never really cold here. Don't forget it wasn't +exactly a picnic, those years in France. I don't think I shall ever mind +cold again." + +"Anyhow, I should feel a brute sleeping calmly here, with you sitting on +a hard bench out of doors. I may not be a very nice person," Marise +criticised herself, "but I'm not a thorough-paced _pig_. We must think +of some other possible arrangement." + +"There's only one other possible arrangement. And you'd not consider +that possible." + +"What is it?" rather breathlessly. + +"For you to make yourself comfortable behind a barricade of those two +useful screens in your bedroom, while I sit up in an armchair--or spread +myself out on this sofa." + +"I _do_ consider that possible," said Marise, "now I know what kind of a +man you are. That's what we'll do! I'll slip on a dressing-gown and curl +up on top of the bed under an eiderdown. And early in the morning the +one that's awake will call the other. It's quite simple--and you see I'm +not so disagreeable as you thought." + +"Have I ever given you cause to believe I thought you disagreeable?" + +"Dear me, yes! Whole heaps of times! Not that it matters." + +"I suppose it wouldn't matter to you. But it does matter to me, 'what +kind of a man' you 'now know' me to be. Have you been studying me? I +hadn't noticed it. But if you have, I'd be interested to hear what +conclusions you've come to. Do you mind telling me?" + +"Oh, my conclusions mostly concern your state of mind regarding _me_!" +said Marise. + +"What, according to you, is it?" + +"Dislike," she replied promptly. + +"That's a strong word!" Garth blurted out. They were standing in the +middle of the room, eyeing each other as might a pair of duellists +obliged to fight over some technical dispute. "Have I been so brutal to +you as all that?" + +"You haven't been brutal lately. You were--_dreadfully_--at first." + +"H'm! You weren't exactly angelic to me." + +"There's nothing very angelic in the--in the affair." + +"What, precisely, do you mean by 'the affair'?" + +"The--er--bargain." + +"I thought I'd convinced you that the 'bargain' had collapsed." + +"Well, our--marriage, then, if you like that better. I've wondered every +minute what you did marry me for, if it wasn't money. And sometimes I +think it couldn't have been, because you seem to have plenty of your +own. Still----" + +"Some men with plenty could do with more. Is that what you'd say?" + +"I'm not sure what I'd say--about you." + +"I suppose you think that a million dollars would always be worth +having. I'm sure your mother would think that." + +"The question is, not what _we'd_ think, but what you thought--when you +married me." + +Garth looked at her for a moment in silence, as if weighing his answer, +wondering whether to stick to his fixed plan of remoteness, or risk +"giving himself away." + +"Do you remember any of the things I said to you the first day we met?" +he asked at last. + +"Yes, I remember you thought--then--you lo--you admired me a good deal. +But you were a different man that day from what you were afterwards." + +"You're right! I was. A different man. The word you broke off just now +was the one word for what I felt. Only it didn't express half. I loved +you with all there was of me. I adored and worshipped you. But--I don't +believe you've ever been in love yourself except on the surface, or I'd +ask you how much you think love can stand, and live?" + +Marise felt the blood pour up to her cheeks and tingle in the tips of +her ears. So it was true that he _didn't_ love her now! The thought hurt +her vanity. She hated to believe that a man who'd loved her once could +_un_love her in a few days or weeks. But it annoyed her very much to +flush. She wished to look entirely unmoved. Instead, she wanted to cry. + +"Please do tell me once for all _why_ you married me if it wasn't either +for love or money!" she said crossly, with a quiver in her voice. + +"When one makes a bold move on the chessboard--the chessboard of +life--there are often several motives," Garth replied. "Sometimes it's +to save the queen from being taken by an enemy piece. Perhaps that was +my principal motive, who can tell?--I don't know just what piece to +compare with Severance, though with a _card_ it would be easy. He's not +a knight. Nor yet a bishop. We might call him a castle. I hear he's got +one--which needs a bit of doing up before it would suit a queen." + +"You married me only to keep Tony Severance from getting me?" + +"That might have had something to do with it." + +"Not for the million?" + +"I leave you to guess that, from what you say you know of me." + +"And not because you wanted me yourself?" + +"I don't get much good from having you, do I?" + +"Then it was like the dog in the manger." + +Garth shrugged his shoulders. "Let it go at that for to-night, anyhow. +We must talk more softly if we don't wish to keep Bill and Cath awake in +the next room." + +This warning was a dash of cold water! + +"We won't talk at all," half whispered Marise. "If you'll arrange the +screens for me, I'll rest on the bed." + +There were two large, four-leaved screens in the room, one in a corner +behind a sofa, keeping off a window draught, one in front of the door. +Placed as Garth placed them, they formed a room within a room, hiding +the bed from view. Marise stepped behind this "barricade," as Garth had +called it, contrived with great difficulty to unfasten a complicated +family of tiny hooks, wriggled out of her sparkling dress and into a +_robe de chambre_, turned off the light of an electric candelabrum, +turned on that of a green-shaded bedside lamp, and lay down under a silk +quilt. + +From Garth's part of the room she heard no sound, except when several +electric lights were switched off, and Marise imagined him uncomfortably +folded up on the sofa which was far too small for what she called "an +out-size" of man. + +It was dark in the room save for her bedside lamp, the shade of which +drank most of the light. So dim was it, so still was it, that after a +while Marise grew drowsy. + +She hadn't meant to sleep at all, but she realised that Nature was too +strong for her. Besides, what did it matter? Garth was probably asleep +too--and there were hours before dawn. + +The girl ceased to resist the soft pressure as of fingers on her +eyelids. They drooped, closed, and--she slept. By and by she dreamed. +She dreamed most vividly of Zelie Marks, as she had dreamed once or +twice before. + +She--Marise--was in this house of Mothereen's; in this very room, though +Garth was not with her. He existed, but he had gone out--or away. Marise +had taken off the jewels he had given her, and was laying them on a +table. They were beautiful! It was a pity not to keep them for her own! +Suddenly there was a knock at the door, and without waiting for +permission Zelie Marks burst in. + +"I've come for the jewels," she announced, in a hateful voice, looking +at Marise with angry, wicked eyes. + +"They're not yours, and you're not to have them," said Marise in the +dream. She spoke with courage; but suddenly she was afraid of Zelie. She +knew that the girl meant to do her harm. Some dreadful thing was going +to happen. But her voice was gone. She could not cry out. She couldn't +even speak. It was impossible to move. She felt like a bird fascinated +by a snake. The dream had become a nightmare. + +Zelie saw her helplessness. The big black eyes became more and more +evil. The girl advanced slowly, yet with set purpose. Without removing +her stare from Marise's face, she picked up the rope of pearls. + +"As you won't give these to me, though Jack wants me to have everything +of his, I'm going to make you swallow them," she said in a low voice, +cold as the tinkle of ice. + +Marise strove with all her might to cry out, "No--no!" but could not. +She tried to turn and dart away before Zelie could touch her, but she +was immovable as the pillar of salt that had been Lot's wife. + +Zelie took a handful of pearls and began stuffing them into Marise's +mouth. It was suffocation! Marise wrenched herself free of the frozen +spell and uttered a shriek. + +It waked her; and at the same time she was conscious of another sound--a +sound which brought back to her brain a whirling vision of things as +they really were. + +She remembered the screens, and why they were there. + +Garth had bounded up from some resting-place and had knocked over a +chair. He must think, either that she was _in extremis_, or else that +she had cried out as an excuse to bring him to her. She saw one of the +two screens sway, as if Garth had struck against it inadvertently. Then, +hastily she closed her eyes. He must be made to realise that she had +truly screamed in her sleep, and that there was no horrid coquettish +trick. + +Marise lay quite still, so that she hardly breathed; and Garth's steps +made scarce a sound; yet she knew that he had come round the screens and +was looking at her. + +After the things he had said, she was wild to know _what that look was +like_. If she could see his face at that moment, when she'd just given +him a fright, she would know without any possible doubt whether he'd +spoken the plain truth in hinting (he hadn't exactly _said_!) that he +didn't love her because she had tried him too far. But she couldn't see +his face without opening her eyes; and if she opened her eyes he'd know +she was awake. He'd suspect that she had screamed on purpose. + +The girl tried to breathe with long, gentle sighs, hardly moving her +breast, as she did when she played the part of a sleeper on the stage. +It was easy enough _there_; but she couldn't be a good actress after +all, because she was unable to control her breath now. Her heart was +beating fast, and her bosom rose and fell in jerks. + +A long time seemed to pass. Was Garth standing there gazing down at her +still, or had he tiptoed away? Marise simply _had_ to know! Surely she +could just peep from under those celebrated eyelashes of hers for half a +second, without his catching her in the act, if he were there? + +The lashes flickered, and were still again. But Marise had seen. Garth +_was_ there. He was looking down at her. Yet all her subtleties had been +vain. She couldn't read his face. It was as inscrutable as that of the +Sphinx, which she knew only from photographs. Presently she heard a +slight, almost indefinable sound, and peeping again, saw Garth in the +act of disappearing behind a leaf of the taller screen. Had he caught +that tell-tale flicker, or not? + +Garth went back to his darkened corner of the room, but his brain felt +as it had been brilliantly lit up, with a hundred electric candles +suddenly turned on in it. They dazzled him. But he composed himself +outwardly and lay down again on the crampingly short sofa. + +He had taken off collar, tie, coat and waistcoat, slipping on instead a +futurist dressing-gown which a haughty salesman in a smart shop had +forced upon him as "_the_ thing." Zelie would probably have approved it. +In any case, it would have graced a Russian ballet. + +Minutes, hours perhaps, passed before he felt even somnolent. But the +ring of light on the ceiling above Marise's concealed lamp, resembling a +faint, round moon in a twilight sky, hypnotised him. At last sleep +caught him like a wrestler, and downed him for a moment. In a flash came +a dream. He thought that Marise had cried out again. Then he waked, in +another flash, and knew that it was not true. Vividly he saw her face, +as it had been in that last glimpse he had stolen; sweet as a rose; lips +apart, long lashes shadowing the cheeks; then--a flicker; and he saw the +bosom that had been shaken all through the silent scene with heart-beats +too quick for those of a sleeper. + +With this photograph upon his retina, he deliberately rolled off the +sofa, and fell with a bump on the floor. + +Crash! went a screen. + +Marise was beside him. + +"Are you _dead_?" she gasped. + +"No. Only asleep," he answered with a yawn. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +THE ALBUM + + +The next day Garth received a telegram urging him to come at once to the +Grand Canyon. He was needed because of some work at Vision House which +had been stopped for his decision. + +Marise believed that he had had the message sent to himself, and was +grateful, for his departure relieved the situation. Later, she thought +differently; but at the time she was pleased with the man. She even gave +him a little appreciative squeeze of the hand when they said good-bye. + +Garth was to be gone two days. He would then return, travelling at +night, and after a few hours with Mothereen would take his wife and her +maid away. Considering the circumstances, this was as good an +arrangement as could have been hoped for by Marise. His absence, +however, did leave the house very dull! Whether one liked Jack Garth or +not, even if one hated him, his was a personality that made itself +missed. + +Of course, it was very unpleasant that she had to go and live in his +house. In his rough-hewn fashion, he'd been rather decent in some ways, +not abusing the man's power he had over her as a woman; still, Marise +told herself that she thanked Heaven to be rid of him. She must not +appear too joyous, however, or Mothereen would be shocked. So realistic +was the girl's air of sadness (helped by a prospect of heavy boredom), +that the dear woman attempted the task of cheering her up. + +"Would ye like me to show ye an album of photos I have of himself as a +boy and a growin' lad?" Mothereen wanted to know. "He was never much on +bein' took, after he grew up. But I've kept all his letters he wrote me +from the Front. They're great, and ye can have the run of 'em, me pet. +But first we'll go through the album together, don't ye think?" + +Marise said that she would be delighted. And she must have had a more +angelic nature than she'd supposed, because the thought of the ordeal +left her unruffled. + +Mothereen brought the volume in question--bound in purple morocco--and a +ribbon-tied bundle of letters to the girl's sitting-room. Then, with a +beaming countenance, she settled herself on the sofa and opened the +album on her lap. She had evidently no suspicion that she was being +patronised good-naturedly by "Johnny's" wife. Indeed, she fully believed +that the girl was impatiently waiting a treat. + +"Come and sit down beside me, Mavourneen," she said. "That's right! Now +we're cosy. See, this cute little photo at the beginnin' was Johnny when +I had him first. Ye know the story, don't ye?" + +"No-o," confessed Marise. She could easily have given an evasive answer; +but suddenly she was conscious that she _wished_ to know the story. +"Maj--he--never told me." + +"Never told ye!" echoed Mothereen. "Never told ye aught about the father +he's so proud of, and all the rest? Why, if it had not been for that +father of his, I don't suppose he'd have gone to the war like a shot, +the way he did." + +"Will you tell me--unless you think he'd rather you didn't?" asked +Marise, gazing at the badly-taken photograph of a handsome, +fearless-eyed child of five or six, in funny little trousers. + +"Sure, there's no reason _why_ he should mind. The boy has nothing to +blush for. It's all the contrary!" said Mothereen. "And I _will_ tell +ye. It's right ye should hear what the gossoon fought his way up from to +where he stands now. Ye've heard, at the least, that the father was +English?" + +"I think I did hear him tell someone--not me--that his father was a +Yorkshireman," Marise remembered. + +"He was that, and a gentleman besides, an officer in the British Army. +His name was the same as the child's--John Garth. It was an American +girl he'd married, a girl from out West here. She went over to England +as a kind of a nursery governess with a family of rich folks, and there +was a row--a flare-up of some sort. The folks left her behind when they +came home, and the girl got engaged to sing with a little concert party, +tourin' the provinces. It was in Yorkshire Captain Garth saw her, and +fell in love. He was always inventin' something or other, was my +Johnny's dad: like father like son, and when the one child born to the +pair of 'em was a toddler, the Captain had an accident with some +explosive stuff he was workin' at. The poor young man's right arm was +blown off, and his eyes were hurt. That meant he must leave the army, +and as he wasn't wounded in the service of his country, not a red cent +of pension did he get! The poor girl wife was expectin' a second child, +but the shock she got by the accident brought on her trouble before its +time, and she and the baby died together. + +"It was nip and tuck that the Captain didn't die too. But he pulled +through somehow, and there was the boy to think of. When it turned out +that Government would do nothin', the poor man had a notion to come to +this side of the world--his dead wife's country. She'd always been +tellin' him, it seems, that those inventions of his, that the British +War Office turned up its nose at, might make his fortune in the States. + +"Well, he took the little money he had left, and thought to try his +luck. But he was pretty well done for, poor man, and a big storm there +was, crossin', just about put the finishin' touch; for he broke his leg +aboard ship." + +"Were you on the ship?" Marise asked. + +"Not me! 'Twas many a year since I was on board a ship," said Mothereen. +"Me and my man--Pat was his name--we had our honeymoon in the steerage. +'Twas out to the West we came, near to where we are now, which is why me +heart is in the West always. But troubles fell on Pat in business, and a +friend of his invited him to join in a new scheme, back East in New +York. The fellow'd been left a house there, off Third Avenue, and with +Pat to help in the expense of a start, furnishin', advertisin' and the +like, accordin' to him, they could coin money takin' boarders. It +sounded all right on paper, and so it might have been in practice, +maybe, with Pat to manage and me to cook, if half the boarders hadn't +slipped off without settlin' their bills. But that's what they did, the +spalpeens. And if troubles had been black out West, they was black and +blue in N'York! This was the time when Captain Garth came limpin' in out +of hospital, with his boy hangin' onto his hand. He'd seen our +advertisement in a paper, offerin' cheap board. The man looked like +death--and he didn't look like pay. But sure, me heart opened to the +pair of 'em at first sight! Ses I to meself, 'If I was to have a child, +I'd want one the pattern o' _that_.'" + +"What happened then?" Marise wanted to know, when Mothereen paused for +her thoughts to rush back to the past. + +"Just the things ye might suppose! We none of us had any luck. There was +no more doin' for the inventions in the States than there'd been in +England. The Captain left the child in my charge, and went to +Washington. There he hung about the place till the last of his money was +frittered away, and nothin' to show for it. But my, didn't that boy grow +into me heart, those days when he was like me own? Four years old he +was, and to look at him or hear him talk, you'd have said six! There +came along a big wave of 'flu, the end of that hard winter, and my Pat +and Captain Garth was both laid low with the sickness. Pat took it from +the Captain, nursin' him--and within a week of each other they was dead. +That's how me Johnny boy got to be me son." + +"You were a saint to adopt him, when his father caused your husband's +death," said Marise. + +"_Saint_, is it? Wait till ye hear the rest of the story, and know what +it was the boy did for me. Not much more than a baby he was, but with +twice the understandin' of many a grown-up man I've met. He saw the way +things were for me, with his wise little eyes, and he made up his mind +to help when the time came. + +"I had to give up the house, I couldn't hold on. I sold up my bits of +things, and took one room for the two of us, Johnny and me. I got some +sewin' to do, but 'twas in a neighbourhood of poor folk, and there +wasn't enough comin' in to keep bread in our mouths. What do you think +that baby did then, darlin'? I'm sure _this_ is the part of the story +he'd _never_ be tellin' ye!" + +"I can't imagine," said Marise. + +"How he saved a few cents I've never rightly known, for he was mum about +it. What I think is, he must have begged till he had a half-dozen +nickels or dimes. Then he bought newspapers, and sold 'em in the +streets. From the first minute he was a success, and it's not hard to +see why. He was in a different class from the poor dirty brats in the +same business. And if ye'll believe it, me girl, there was times when +the child kept the two of us on what he earned. From that day we never +looked back. He put spirit into me, and the heart to work. Now, I'll +turn over a page in the album, and show you our boy at the age of ten. +What d'ye think of him?" + +"He doesn't look like a seller of newspapers," said Marise. + +"No more he wasn't, by then. He and I had gone into the molasses candy +business. We made the candy ourselves; and if I do say it, there wasn't +its equal in New York. Johnny would have the stuff wrapped up in pretty +little packets of coloured paper tied with gold string, and I tell you, +it went like smoke! At night, Johnny attended a school, and picked up +knowledge as a chicken picks up corn. + +"Now, here he is in the album again at fifteen. We had the Mooney +Molasses Candies--three sorts--for sale in a lot of shops, and we'd a +little flat of our own, and money in the bank. Isn't he a fine fellow to +look at there? The makings of a man! 'Twas when he was fifteen that he +began to study the notebooks his father had left, and to turn his +thoughts to inventions of his own. The first thing was an oyster-opener. +The second was a fastener to keep shoe-strings from untying. Then there +was a big leap, and at eighteen he'd patented a toy pistol that fired +six shots, and no danger in one of 'em! That was what began to bring +_real_ money in; and Johnny said, 'Mothereen' (he'd called me that name +from the first), 'the next step is goin' to take us out West to the +place that you love!' So it did! 'Twas that high-speed bullet of his +which won him the notice of the War Office. It won him ten thousand +dollars, too; and on the strength of it he brought me back to the town +where Pat and I settled first, in the happy old days. But little did I +dream even then of the destiny ahead of the boy! I was lovin' him too +much, and rememberin' the child he'd been, to realise that by me side a +real genius was growin' up. I might o' done, though, if I'd kept me eyes +open, the way he studied and worked, worked and studied, readin' the +classics and learnin' languages and mathematics the while he'd be +faggin' out some new invention. But Johnny was never the boy to brag or +talk about himself. He was always queer in spots, sort of broodin', +you'd almost say sulky, unless you knew him, and a temper, too; though +never with me. Then came his discovery of how to make motor spirit out +of coke. That finished buildin' this house we're in, and bought his land +at Grand Canyon. I mean it did all that in the first few months. Soon +afterwards the dollars poured on us by thousands--yes, tens of +thousands! You sure heard of the trench motor-tool for diggin', I know, +because 'twas in all the English papers after the war had broken out, +and Johnny was at the Front. There was all that about his Victoria Cross +at the same time, or was it a bit before? You can tell me, I guess?" + +"It must have been before. I never knew why he was decorated," Marise +said. + +"He wouldn't tell you when ye asked?" cried Mothereen, as certain as she +was of life that the girl _had_ asked--yes, begged and prayed! + +"He never did tell." + +"Well, ye shall read the newspaper paragraphs yerself--American papers, +mind ye!--for he never sent me the English ones, and I got what I got +through his friends. I've columns cut out. And with them there's the +praise of the trench machine, and the new kind of steel--Radium steel, +he calls it--that they say will make him a millionaire in a year or +two." + +"A millionaire!" echoed Marise. "I thought he was poor!" + +"Poor! Ye thought that--yet ye _married_ him--you, who could get anyone +ye liked, from Princes of the Blood down to Cotton Kings! You _darlin'_! +Well, ye'll have yer reward. The boy is not poor. He's rich--what +_anybody_ would call rich." + +"Then why----" Marise burst out, and stopped herself. If she hadn't +bitten back the words, they would have tumbled out: "_Why_ did he marry +me?" + +She felt very small in spirit and mean of soul compared with humble +Mothereen, whose faith and loyalty had bridged the dark years with gold. + +Why had a man brought up by Mothereen wanted to play the dummy hand in +this ridiculous game of marriage? + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +THE BEREAVED ONE + + +When his ship docked, two telegrams were handed to Lord Severance. The +first which he opened was from Mrs. Sorel, and he glanced through it +eagerly. + + "Everything going as well as could be expected, but your return + and final completion of arrangement eagerly awaited.--Mary S." + +This was not quite as reassuring, somehow, as the sender intended it to +be. There seemed to be a hidden meaning behind the words, which twanged +the wrong chords of Severance's emotions. Hastily he tore open the +second envelope, hoping to find a message from Marise herself. But the +signature was "Constantine Ionides." Then Severance read with horrified, +incredulous eyes, "OEnone died suddenly last night of heart failure." + +For a moment Tony did not understand all that the news would mean for +him. OEnone dead! Well, he was free, at least! The hateful farce would +not have to be gone through. He could sail for New York again in a few +days. + +But a shock of realisation broke the thought. Not to marry OEnone +meant that he would not get his uncle's promised wedding gift. A fortune +was lost! + +The blow was a staggering one. He felt its full force, as if he had +abruptly turned to face a gale from the east. + +Wasn't it just his luck? Didn't everything always go like that for him +in life? Almost to lay his hand on the things he wanted, to see them +slip away from under his fingers! + +The journey to London was interminable. He suffered so much during the +miserable hours that it seemed as if he must have the consolation of +some reward at the end--must learn that OEnone hadn't died after all, +or that, better still, Uncle Constantine intended in any case to give +him the money which should have been his. + +But there was no brightening of the gloom for him. In fact, things were +rather worse at the end of the journey, if possible, than he had +expected. Uncle Constantine's heart was not softened by sorrow. On the +contrary, he turned upon Severance in a rage and blamed him for +OEnone's death. + +The girl had faded visibly after her cousin left England. She knew one +or two people who thought it for her good to be told that Tony's +"mission" was to follow Marise Sorel. OEnone had subscribed for +several American papers, in order to read of Lord Severance's doings on +the other side. One was a weekly gossip rag, and she had been turning +over a copy when she died. In fact, the thing was found in her hand, +open at a page where Severance's name was coupled in a sneering way with +that of Marise Sorel. The actress was said to have jilted him for a +Major Garth, V.C., of his own regiment, and the rumour was reported that +out of pique Severance would now marry his rich Greek cousin in London. + +"It was enough to kill her--and it did!" said Ionides. "Damn you, +Severance! I wish to Heaven you were dead instead of my poor girl who +loved you. And I wish to hell I could upset her will in your favour. I +can't do that. But not a shilling of _my_ money will you ever get." + +So OEnone had left him her own private fortune, as she had told him +she meant to do if she died! That was something--probably the equivalent +of the pledged million dollars--not allowing for the vile exchange. But +of what use was _one_ million dollars to him, in his present plight? The +least he could do with was double that sum. + +To carry out the bargain with Garth and free Marise he would have to +hand over a cool million. But how was he going to pay even his most +pressing debts and live--much less _marry_--if he cleaned himself out of +his whole inheritance at one stroke? + +On the other hand, if he kept the million doubtless coming to him by +OEnone's will, he would have nothing to offer Garth. The whole plan +would be a colossal failure: worse than a failure--a catastrophe. Garth +would stick to Marise from motives of spite, if nothing worse. The +girl's life would be ruined, and she would be lost to him unless he +killed Garth, or unless the man laid himself open to divorce +proceedings--which was the very thing he would be careful not to +do--unless well paid. + +Of course, a woman could divorce a man for incompatibility of temper and +things of that sort in one or two states out West, in America, Severance +had vaguely heard. But a hocus pocus affair of that sort wouldn't be +considered legal in England, and Marise could never, in such +circumstances, become the Countess of Severance, even if they had money +to marry on--which they wouldn't have! + +Severance had not known or guessed how the girl had said to herself +that, if there were a question of jilting, _she_ wished to be the +jilter, not the jilted. Had he known, he would have felt even more +bitter against Fate. As it was, he pitied Marise, although the disasters +which had fallen on them both came through her impulsiveness. If only +she hadn't rushed off and married John Garth on an hour's notice, that +beastly paragraph would never have been printed, and OEnone would +still be alive. It had been foolish, rash, passionately mistaken. +Severance felt hotly. But there was little resentment in his pain. He +blamed himself almost, if not quite, as much as Marise, and all that was +Greek in him accepted, while it writhed at, the fatality. + +When OEnone's funeral was over and the contents of her will known, the +legacy reached the amount promised. But--the exchange, the awful +exchange between England and America! And the equally appalling death +duties! Even if Severance decided to plunge, and offer _all_ to Garth, +the sum would fall far short of a million dollars. Besides, he couldn't +offer all, or nearly all. He was dunned on every side. + +There were moments--moments when he was most Greek--when Tony said to +himself that he would have to leave Marise to her fate. She had made her +bed. She must lie on it. He would stay in England, pay his debts, and be +extremely comfortable on what was left over out of OEnone's gift. But +there were other moments, burning moments, fanned to molten fire by Mrs. +Sorel's letters and telegrams. He _couldn't_ give up Marise! Something +must be done. And at last, through the red mists he saw a way to bluff +himself out of the depths. + +"Coming back at once," he cabled Mary Sorel at Bell Towers, and started +the same day (the fourteenth day after OEnone's funeral) in a cabin +given up at the eleventh hour by its purchaser. + +The legacy was not yet in his hands, nor would it be for months to come, +but Severance had been able to borrow a substantial sum on the certainty +of his prospects. The voyage was stormy, and not being a good sailor, he +arrived in New York a wreck. He had courage enough, however, to start at +once for Los Angeles, where he meant to see his friend and well-wisher, +Mrs. Sorel. With her counsel he would consolidate his plans, and start +the campaign against Garth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE VISITORS' BOOK + + +"Oh, Tony, what a downfall of our castle in the air!" were Mary's first +words, as she held out her hands to Severance. "This beautiful Bell +Towers, where we hoped we should be so happy--you and Marise and +I--wasted--wasted! Our dream broken! The best prospect for my poor child +now is, that she can go back to the stage and begin again where she left +off." + +Severance had come to her for comfort, but found he had to give instead +of get it. + +"Oh, I say! Things aren't as bad as all that!" he protested. "Tell me +exactly how matters are, so far as you know, with Marise. Then I'll tell +you how they are with me. You must remember, I'm not without +resources--or ideas." + +They were standing together on a rose-hung loggia, looking over a +fountain terrace where oranges shone in the sun and a hundred flowers +poured forth perfume like a hymn of praise. As Mary Sorel had said, the +place was a perfect setting for romance. But all hope wasn't over yet! + +Tea was brought to the loggia; and when the maid had gone, Mary began to +tell Severance--not only the news he wanted to hear, but, alas! much +news that made sorry hearing indeed. + +"Celine writes me, as often as Marise does," Mrs. Sorel explained, a +little shamefacedly. "I arranged that she should do so. Marise is _odd_ +in some ways, you know. Not secretive exactly. No. But she has sudden, +unexpected sort of reserves. And I wanted an unbiased account of +affairs, from--well, from more than one point of view. They've left +Albuquerque, near where the adopted mother lives, and gone to the place +I wrote you about--the Grand Canyon. At least, Garth's property isn't +far from the Canyon. You can see it from the windows. 'Vision House,' he +calls the place; but I think it's more because getting the land was the +fulfilment of some old dream than because of the view. Marise says +that's wonderful, though--the view, I mean." + +"You can't expect me to care about the view from Garth's damned house, +where he keeps Marise a prisoner!" exploded Severance. + +"No, dear boy--forgive me! I was wandering from the point, thinking of +her letters. _They_ wander, too. She tells me all kinds of things about +the place. She says it's amazing. She talks more of everything else than +herself." + +"What does she say about Garth?" + +"Not more than she can help. But--oh, _one_ thing! Tony, she tells me +he's rich--very rich." + +"Rot! He wants her to believe that." + +"No. Someone else told her, not he. And the house, though it's simple, +is the house of a rich man, she says. I should have been there by this +time, if you hadn't wired me you were coming here to get my advice +before--before deciding what to do next. And--besides, I was a _little_ +delayed by the visit of a _charming_ Comtesse de Sorel who came to Los +Angeles, and thought she might be distantly related to poor dear Louis. +We fagged up the family tree together. It appears that Louis just missed +being a comte himself, by descent, because of--ah--a family accident: a +marriage that didn't take place. Think of the difference to us if----" + +"I'm thinking of the difference to me because of a marriage that did +take place!" Severance cut her short. "I shall start for the Grand +Canyon at once. I suppose there's an hotel there." + +"Marise says there's a _dream_ of an hotel, close to the abyss, or +whatever you call it. The name is El Tovar, after some old Spanish +general who seems to have been even more of a brute than Garth. You'll +go there--naturally. Yet I thought from what you said that all was +over--that you couldn't _pay_ Garth, and----" + +"I'll do something! You don't suppose I'm going to stand quietly by and +leave him in possession, do you?" + +"Well, he's not exactly in _possession_. To put it like that is to +exaggerate----" + +"He's got the legal power of a husband over Marise, and, one way or +another, he'll have to be kicked out!" + +"That, at least, will be something to the good--if you succeed, dear +boy. But this terrible disappointment over the money.... What _do_ you +think of doing?" + +Severance put into words what he thought of doing. Mums listened +earnestly, weighing each pro and con as he talked. For a wonder, she +didn't interrupt. It was only when he had finished and awaited an +opinion that she spoke. + +"Very good! Very good indeed!" she praised him. "It seems to me that +you've analysed the man's character, and formed your plan on the +analysis. Marise--ah, well, _she's_ more complicated than he is, of +course! But I think this idea of yours will appeal to her romantic side. +Like all girls, she _is_ romantic." + +"Everything depends upon how she feels towards me," said Severance. "She +did care a little--once. You don't think that what I--what's happened +has changed her?" + +"I don't see why it should have done," answered Mary. "After all, she +consented." + +"I'm afraid your influence was for something in that!" + +"Naturally a mother has influence. But Marise's mind is her own. She's +very individual. Besides, the time is so short since then." + +Yes, Mums was right there! The time was short--very short. Only a few +weeks had passed since the day when Marise had been persuaded to accept +the first Great Plan, though it felt more like several years. She +couldn't have changed--unless association with a man like Garth had made +her value Severance more than ever. + +The one amendment Mary had to make was that she should travel with Tony, +and be on the spot to help in the carrying out of this new, second plan. +But her suggestion was received with an ill grace. "I want to do it all +on my own," he objected. "If Marise is romantic, as you say she is, it +would spoil the whole show to have her mother in the background. No, +what's got to be done I want to do myself. You must wait here. I'll +bring her to you when I can, if things turn out the way I expect. +Anyhow, you trust her to me, don't you?" + +"Of course, dear Tony," Mums assured him. Her voice didn't sound quite +sincere, but then, it seldom did, unless she was in a temper. And after +all, Severance didn't care a hang whether she trusted him or not, so +long as she did not interfere. The mother of Marise bored him with her +pretensions and affectations, though she was useful at times; and in the +future--that future which he hoped to share with Marise--he didn't +intend to see a great deal of Mrs. Sorel. + +Bell Towers was as beautiful as it had been described, and it was +his own for the next few months. But weary as he was, Severance +left the place that night, taking a stateroom in the train for +Williams--"Williams" being the prosaically-named junction for perhaps +the most romantic place in the world, the Grand Canyon. + + * * * * * + +Getting out at the small station Severance saw no Canyon at first. It +couldn't be so huge or wonderful as people said, he thought, and anyhow, +he didn't care for scenery--especially now. There was a pine wood, and +ascending out of it for a short distance he came to the hotel--a +glorified loghouse, it was--such a loghouse as the Geni of the Lamp +might have created for Aladdin by request. It was very big and very +beautiful. Even Severance, tired and out of temper, couldn't help +admitting its charm. Then, on the plateau of the hotel, above the wood, +he found himself gazing straight down into the canyon, and far across a +gulf of gold and rose. + +The man was amazed, almost stunned, for a moment. Constitutionally he +dreaded great heights and depths, and though the place was stupendously +magnificent, the moment his eyes saw its majesty Severance longed to +escape from it. With relief, he turned his back upon the flaming rocks +and sapphire depths, and almost ran into the hotel. + +There was a vast, low-ceilinged hall, with just the right sort of +furniture, and an odd invention--a cross between hammocks and hanging +sofas--suspended here and there by chains from the roof. In these things +girls sat; and there were several extremely handsome young men lounging +about, dressed like cowboys. Severance caught snatches of conversation +about ponies, and the "long trail" and the "short trail." Everyone had +either just made the descent into the canyon, or intended to make it; +but Severance had no wish for the adventure which brought most people to +this abode of wonders. + +The hotel, it appeared, was nearly full, but there were two or three +rooms free for that night, and Tony engaged one. He then inquired the +way and the distance to "Vision House." + +"Oh, Major Garth's!" exclaimed the hotel clerk. "It's about a mile or a +mile and a half from here. It's on the edge of the pine forest--has just +a group of big trees between it and the canyon--not enough to hide the +view, though. Some think the trees improve it--make a sort of frame. You +can walk, easily. But I saw Major Garth in the hotel half an hour ago, +with a friend who's convalescing here after being ill. I'm sure he's not +gone yet. I can send and see if he----" + +"Please don't do that!" Severance broke in. "I am--a relative of Mrs. +Garth, and I have a message to deliver from her mother. There's no need +to disturb Major Garth if he's with a friend." + +Severance had intended to bathe, change into fresh clothes, and have a +long, cool drink--the drink of his life--before starting out to call at +Vision House. He could thus have been at his best, and have felt sure of +doing himself justice in any ordeal he might be destined to go through. +But with the certain knowledge that Garth was out of the way--perhaps +only for a short time--it would have been tempting Providence to delay +for one unnecessary second. + +He inquired just how to go, and vetoed the suggestion that he should +first look at his room. + +"If you'll register, I'll ring for a chap to show you where you start +from," said the clerk, pushing a big book forward and handing the guest +a pen. + +"Earl of Severance," Tony wrote, expecting to see the man look +impressed, but no such emotion was visible. Instead, he turned back a +few pages to show the signature of an Indian rajah and a Scottish duke. +A mere earl looked small fry compared with them! + +On the same page with the duke, Severance happened to catch sight of a +name which was vaguely familiar to him, and he kept the book open to +refresh his memory. + +"Miss Zelie Marks," he repeated to himself. "Now where have I heard...." + +Then, suddenly, he knew. + +Zelie Marks's face rose before his mind, and he recalled where he had +seen it last--recalled also a look he had caught in a pair of handsome +eyes fixed upon Garth the day of the first visit. + +Mrs. Sorel had tried to send the two off together, and Severance had +said to himself, "That couple know each other pretty well. The girl's in +love with the fellow!" + +So she was out West, at this hotel, close to Garth's house! Why? What +did it mean? It must mean _something_.... Did Marise know?... Had Miss +Marks been brought here purposely to give the wished-for--the +arranged-for--excuse for a divorce? Or was the reason for her presence +more subtle and more complicated? + +Severance felt excited, as if he had picked up something of unexpected +value. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE TERRACE + + +Marise stood on the high terrace which looked towards the rose-and-gold +gulf of the Canyon. Gazing out, between the dark slim trunks of pines, +she saw the sunlight moving slowly from rock to rock. "It's like stray +sheep of the golden fleece," she thought, "being herded by an invisible +shepherd to join the flock." + +Yes, the moving gleams were all massed together now. But they were +travelling on. Suddenly they had ceased to be a flock of sheep. They +were shining bricks, built into a citadel. + +"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan a stately palace dome decree," Marise quoted +to herself. + +How astonishing that so marvellous a place had existed for thousands +upon thousands of years, and she had hardly heard of it, until John +Garth had brought her to this house of his! + +"Vision House" was the right name for it. Garth hadn't meant it like +that--or if he had, he'd not told her so!--but one _had_ visions here. +One couldn't think little ordinary, foolish thoughts. Life seemed to be +upon its highest plane, and whether one wished to do so or not, one had +to try and reach that plane. One wanted to be at one's best, to be "in +the picture"--and the best must be very good. It must even be noble. + +Whoever had designed Vision House and chosen its furnishings had felt +that. There were great windows bowed out in generous eagerness towards +the Canyon. There were wide loggias, upheld by clear-cut, pale stone +pillars. In the rooms were no brilliant colours to jar with the rainbow +glory just beyond the delicate green veil of pines. The curtains of grey +or cream fell in soft, straight lines that framed a glowing +picture--rocks of every fantastic form and flaming colour, under the +blue of heaven: rocks like castles carved of coral and studded with +lapis lazuli: statue rocks of transparent amethyst, or emerald, +glittering where the sun touched them or fading to the smoky blue of +star-sapphires as the shadows crept up from the bottom of the vast bowl. + +There was an organ in one of the rooms. Garth had thought that the +finest piano in the world would be too tinkling a thing so near the +thrilling silence of the Canyon. He could play the great instrument +himself. She wouldn't have believed it, if she had not heard the music +as she walked alone on the terrace by moonlight, and had gone to peep in +at the long, open window. _How_ he could play!--though he said casually, +when she asked him, "Oh, I wanted to do it, so I taught myself. I hear +things in my head. I like to make them come out." A queer fellow! + +In the library there were only books which Garth thought "worthy of the +Canyon." But in her room there were a few French novels. It was the one +place in the house, too, where there were pretty, frivolous decorations +such as a Parisian beauty of the seventeenth, or an American of the +twentieth, century would love. _That_ was what he thought of her! _She_ +would crave such surroundings at the Grand Canyon, as well as in New +York or London! She, and no one else whom he had ever planned to bring +here! + +When Marise thought of that room, and the difference between it and all +the others, she felt--not angry, for one _couldn't_ feel angry for small +reasons, close to the greatness of the Canyon,--no, not angry, but +pained, and--wistful. + +She was wistful because she could not help seeing that the things Garth +must hastily have ordered for her pleasure were actually suited to her +type, her personality, and she had growing pains of the spirit which +made her long to climb high and higher, out of herself. Somehow that +room seemed to represent herself: soft and vaguely sweet; pretty, +perfumed, charming, fantastic and--forgetable. How should Garth have +known that she would suddenly become a different self, irradiated by the +sublime glory of this place? Why, even she hadn't known it, until she +had begun to feel the change! And it had started at sight of the +difference between those other, nobly simple rooms, which somehow +matched the Canyon, and hers which childishly laughed in its face. + +Or--had Garth expected her to change, under the influence, which was +like the influence of all the gods, and _wanted_ her to feel the +difference as she was feeling it now? + +As she asked herself this question a pretty, half-breed Mexican maid +flitted out upon the terrace and announced "Ze Earl of Sev'rance." + +Marise started. She need not have been surprised. She ought to have +known (having heard of OEnone's death) that any day might bring Tony +to her. But the truth was that, for the time--quite a long time--she had +forgotten all about him. + +He didn't belong to the Grand Canyon! But suddenly she felt a desire to +see what he would be like, confronting it. + +"Show Lord Severance out here," she directed the maid. And then, between +the moment when the girl turned her back, and the moment when Tony +stepped through an open window-door of the drawing-room, Marise had to +realise that she faced a crisis--had to prepare for it. + +The red-gold light that always came from the Canyon like flame made +Severance seem to have deep mauve rings under his eyes, an appearance +which gave him a dissipated look. She began by not thinking him as +deadly handsome as she had always thought him in London and sometimes in +New York. No, certainly he didn't go well with Canyons and things like +that! But, of course, he was tired. He had travelled fast, and a very +long way--to meet _her_. She must remember this in his favour. + +He didn't glance through the trees at the dazzling glory. He'd had +enough and too much of the old Canyon! He looked straight at Marise. And +he walked straight to her, seizing both her hands, which resisted a +little, then thought better of it and welcomed him. + +"Poor Tony!" she breathed. + +"Not 'poor Tony,' now I see you again," he said. "Marise, you're more +beautiful than ever. You're the most beautiful thing on this globe. +Where can we go, where a lot of huge windows won't be glaring at us like +bulging eyes?" + +"There's nobody to glare through them," answered Marise. +"My--_he_--isn't at home." + +"I know," said Severance. "That's why I hurried to you without stopping +even to bathe and change. I wanted a talk with you before thrashing +things out with Garth. 'Wanted'? That isn't the word! I thirsted, I +burned for it. He's not in the house, but servants are. Marise, I've +travelled six thousand miles, hardly resting--just for this moment--and +others to follow--better moments. Give me one of the better ones now. I +deserve a reward. And I can't take it here on this beastly terrace." + +Marise suddenly realised that nothing in the world would move her from +the terrace. She was glad of the window-eyes. They were her protectors +against--against--the man she had loved. + +The words spoke themselves in her head. She heard them. She was +surprised at them. _Had_ loved! Didn't she love Tony Severance now? If +not, why had she done all that she had done--so many wild, reckless +things? It seemed that she was asking the question not of herself, but +of the Canyon. The Canyon was like God. In the glittering, flaming, +blue-shadowed depths of it was knowledge of Everything. + +"I think we must stay here," she said. "There is no other place where we +can very well go. Would you--like to sit down on that seat by the wall?" + +"What I would like is to kneel at your feet with my arms round your +waist and my head on your breast--your dear, divine breast," answered +Severance. + +"Well--you can't!" she panted. "Tony, be sensible!" She sat down +hastily, and Severance dropped beside her on the velvet-cushioned stone +seat. He sat very close to the girl, and she edged slightly away. + +As she did so, he followed until she was pressed into the corner of the +bench. He laid his arm along the back of the seat, and pressed her +thinly-covered shoulder. + +"Please don't!" she whispered. + +Severance laughed out--a bitter laugh. "This is the way you greet me +after all I've gone through to get to you--and to get you!" he said. +"You know, I _am_ going to get you." + +Marise did not answer. She knew nothing of the kind. All she knew was, +quite suddenly, that there was no longer any doubt in her mind on one +subject. She did _not_ love Tony! She was sorry for him, and sorry for +herself, and sorry for everything in the world. But she did not love +him. She disliked having him touch her. + +"You _do_ know it, don't you?" he insisted. + +"No, I don't," she stammered. "There--there's nothing to know." + +"Are you acting a part with me?" Severance flung at her. "Or what has +come over you, Marise? One would think you in reality the virtuous +married woman, keeping the _tertium quid_ at arm's length----" + +"Well, I _am_ a married woman. And--and I'm not _un_virtuous!" she +defied him, through her heart-beats. "Things have changed, Tony----" + +"Why--because I've got a million dollars less than you expected me to +have?" + +The girl sprang to her feet, tingling and trembling. Severance jumped up +also, and belted her slim waist with his hot hands. He thought that this +was the way to regain her--that by grasping her body he might seize her +elusive spirit. It was all that Marise could do not to scream, "Help! +Help!" like an early-Victorian heroine. She bit back the cry of +primitive womanhood, but to her intense surprise, and even horror, she +found herself landing a rousing box on Tony's ear. + +"You vixen!" he blurted. + +"Cad!" she retorted. + +With that, his hands dropped from her waist. His face had been pale with +fatigue. Now it was paler with pain. "You don't--mean that, Marise?" he +stammered. + +And, of course, she didn't. Things had happened in the past which had +encouraged him to this. He had thought she loved him. She was to blame +as much as he was--more, perhaps--the Canyon would say. + +"I'm sorry I boxed your ear, Tony," she apologised. "But--but--if you go +on like this, I'm awfully afraid I shall lose my head and box it again." + +"I don't understand you," he said, more quietly. + +"I don't understand myself," she confessed. + +"Then"--and fire from the Canyon lit Severance's Greek eyes--"it's my +plan to make you understand. You love me. You _daren't_ go back from it +all, after what's passed. I love you, and you belong to me." + +"Good afternoon, Severance," said Garth, at the window. "I heard you'd +arrived." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +STRAIGHT TALK + + +If Garth had appeared two minutes earlier, he need have suffered no +uncertainty about Marise. But unfortunately she was not in these days +the romantic heroine of a stage play. Characters did not come on or go +off at just the right instant to work up her scenes in life. Therefore +this unrehearsed effect ended with an anti-climax. Whether Severance +were cast for hero or villain remained doubtful: and whether she had +acted the noble wife or the weak lover was left vague: or at least, it +was vague to the mind of Garth. He had no idea what Marise had done. He +was sure only that Severance had done as much as she would let him do. +By and by he expected to learn a great deal more: through the process of +deduction. + +"Good gracious, if I _had_ called out, he would have heard me!" thought +Marise; and was thankful that she hadn't. To yell for John Garth to +rescue her from Tony Severance! That would have been too inane, too +ridiculous. Nevertheless, a picture flashed vividly across her brain: +Garth as he had looked that night at Mothereen's house when hearing her +shriek he had bounded to her bedside from behind the screen. His collar +had been off, his strong throat bare, his hair rumpled. It had occurred +to Marise as she peeped from between her lashes that he'd make a fine +model for a young Samson, newly sheared by Delilah. + +The man's quiet voice and his drawled "Good afternoon, Severance," +frightened her a little. She had seen him angry, but never violent. She +felt convinced, somehow, that the angrier he was, the more quiet he +would be--deadly quiet. Just why she felt that, she couldn't have +explained, for she did not know him well--indeed, she knew him hardly at +all. Yet she _was_ sure--very sure. And she was sure also that his "good +afternoon" didn't express Garth's real emotion at sight of Severance +with her on the terrace of Vision House. + +"What had I better do?" she wondered. "Go--or stay?" + +She decided to stay, and keep peace between the two men if need be. +Besides, she _must_ hear what they would say to each other! + +Severance had no conventional answer for Garth's "Good afternoon." He +stood silent, staring and frowning, fingering his small black moustache. + +"To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?" asked his host. + +Severance had never been able to forget the scene between himself and +Garth at the latter's hotel in New York. He was at heart more Greek than +British; and the days are long past since Greeks were aggressive +fighters. He shrank from any repetition of his experience at the +Belmore, and had come to Vision House meaning not to rouse Garth to +violent issues. That cool question was too much, however, for his +prudence. Anyhow, even Garth wouldn't be brute enough to attack him +before Marise! + +"I have come to bring Miss Sorel a message from her mother, who wants +her at Los Angeles," he said sharply. + +"That might do if she were Miss Sorel," returned Garth. "But she isn't." + +"She is professionally," said Severance. + +"She's ceased to be a professional." + +"Temporarily." + +"Oh! Your point is that she's the temporary wife of a temporary +gentleman, and that as such her time with the T.G. is up. Is that it?" + +"Precisely." + +"I see. You've come to wind up the arrangement?" + +"I have. You must have been expecting me." + +"I didn't let my mind dwell on you. How are you going to pay me my +million--in banknotes, bonds or a cheque? Because I may as well inform +you, I shall refuse to accept a cheque." + +"I don't mean to offer you one." + +"Very well. Have you got the million on you?" + +"I have not! I haven't got it anywhere--that is, all of it. I shall pay +you by instalments." + +"I can't agree to accept the money like that." + +"You'll have to!" exploded Severance. "There's nothing else you can do." + +"You think so? We shall see. But it occurs to me that one instalment +deserves another. You pay me by instalments: I allow my wife to go to +her mother by instalments. Some of her trunks can go first." + +"For God's sake don't joke about this thing!" broke out Severance. "It's +too coarse--even for you." + +"Strikes me that it would be coarser to take it seriously," said Garth. +"And there's no need of doing that any more." + +"What do you mean?" the other asked sharply. + +"As I pointed out before, the 'bargain's' smashed to bits." + +"Nothing of the sort!" Severance flung at him. "There wasn't a word +spoken about handing you the whole million in a bunch." + +"There was something said about handing it over in advance. It wasn't +handed over." + +"That was Marise's fault, not mine. She rushed on the marriage out of +childish pique against me, never stopping to dream of the consequences." + +"Which, however, haven't been very disastrous for her," said Garth. +"Have they, Marise?" + +"No--o," she murmured. "But oh, please, both of you--don't lose your +heads!" + +"Mine's on my shoulders," returned Garth calmly. "And I see an +excrescence of some sort protruding from Severance's. You need have no +fear for either of us. Still, if you prefer to wait indoors, we can get +on without you for awhile." + +"No, I'd rather stop where I am." Marise chose. + +"To go back then," said Garth; "the fault, if it was a fault, anyhow +wasn't mine. I obeyed the lady's commands and married her without +haggling for money down. As there was no 'bargain' to stick to, I stuck +to my post, the post of dummy husband, to oblige her, not for any +mercenary reason. I shall go on sticking to it, if not to please her, or +myself, just because I've got into the habit. I can't break that even +for Mrs. Sorel; certainly not for you." + +"I'm not talking of myself now," barked Severance. "I'm talking of +Marise. She wants to be free. Surely you won't hold her against her +will." + +"Surely she can speak for herself!" said Garth. + +Marise did not speak. Her senses began to whirl. She did not know what +was to become of her. She couldn't tell what she wished would become of +her! She felt as if a wave had swept over her head. She was drowning. + +"No!" snapped Garth, when she remained silent, looking at neither, but +gazing anxiously out towards the Canyon. "No, I agreed to play the dummy +hand during your absence for the sum of a million dollars. I haven't got +the million. But even if I had got it, I should have demanded a second +million to clear out. There was nothing specified on that score in New +York." + +"It was taken for granted, of course!" said Severance. "There was no +other meaning possible. We trusted to your honour." + +"We?" + +"Miss Sorel and I--and her mother." + +"That's news to me. Perhaps I shall appreciate it as a compliment when +I'm old--ninety or so. I don't now. I simply don't believe it." + +"You think we lie?" + +"First person singular, please! Marise hasn't spoken." + +"Damn you!" broke out Severance, at the end of his tether, and for once +reckless of consequences. "You refuse to let her go--you refuse equally +to leave her." + +"That's so," said Garth, with an exaggerated nasal twang which made +Severance want to kill him for his insolence. He started forward, +itching to strike; but something he saw in Garth's eyes brought him to a +standstill. That confounded tooth episode was always "throwing itself up +at him," so to speak! Fortunately, however, he remembered something at +that instant--a weapon which he had almost overlooked, though it was +within his grasp. He calmed himself with a kind of mental and physical +stiffening. + +"If you don't intend to carry out your agreement--I insist, _your +agreement_--! why have you brought that secretary girl, Miss Marks, all +the way from New York to El Toyar Hotel?" he hurled at Garth. "When I +heard she was there and that you were constantly riding over from your +place to see her, I supposed it was done on purpose to give Marise an +easy chance to get her divorce. As it is----" + +"As it is," Garth cut him short, "the affair is not your business." + +"It's Marise's business, if it _doesn't_ mean what I thought." + +"Then let her attend to it. She's quite capable of doing that," said +Garth. "And now, unless you can produce a million dollars at sight, or +still better, two million, don't you think you'd be wise to blow back to +your hotel? It'll soon be too dark to walk." + +Severance turned furiously to the pale girl. "Marise--can you stand by +and see me ordered away like this?" + +She looked at him with a strange look which he could not read at all. +"This is his house, Tony," she answered, in an odd, dull voice. "Not +mine." + +"I think you'd best go, for your own sake," said Garth. "But come back, +of course, when you've got the money. If we're here then, we'll be glad +to see you." + +Severance turned without another word, even to Marise, and walked away +as he had come, passing through the drawing-room. Garth started to +follow, but Marise ran to him and stopped him with a small, ice-cold +hand on his arm. "Why are you going after Lord Severance?" she +whispered, her lips dry. + +"Only to see that he doesn't lose himself somewhere in the house and +hide under a table or sofa," Garth explained. + +Her hand dropped. She let him go. + +There was no fear of anything melodramatic, she saw. Yet she was not +relieved. She felt as if she had some black, hollow, worn-out thing in +her breast instead of a heart. It was heavy and useless, and hardly +beat. + +"That horrid girl!" she said half aloud when Garth had gone. "I always +knew, really, she would be here. I believe he _did_ give her the jewels, +and Mothereen wangled them away from her somehow. He's pretending to +follow Tony, and see him out. But he doesn't mean to come back here to +me." + +As she thought this, Garth came back. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI + +STUMBLING IN THE DARK + + +After all, Severance had hardly expected a more brilliant result from +his bluff. The one real failure was in losing his temper, which, when +discussing his plan with Mums, he'd meant to preserve like a jewel of +price. + +Only the short preliminary round had been played. The game proper was +all before him. He'd tested Marise to begin with. She had not been +completely satisfying. That is, she hadn't thrown herself into his arms +and sighed, "Take me away, darling Tony!" which would have been the +ideal thing. But on the other hand, she hadn't very actively repelled +him. If Garth had not appeared on the scene like a stage demon, all +might have been different. The fellow was a bully, and had cowed the +girl. Heaven knew to what means he had resorted in these last weeks to +break her high spirit. But of course there was no doubt that she wanted +to free herself, and the best service Severance could give his dear +lady-love was to take her (ostensibly) against her will. + +That brought him back mentally to the plan he had explained to Mary +Sorel at Bell Towers--the plan she had approved. He must carry it out at +once. And Zelie Marks's presence at the hotel might help, he began dimly +to see now. + +By the time he had reached El Toyar he saw with more clearness. At the +hotel desk he scribbled on one of his visiting cards, "Please grant me a +short interview. I come to you from Mrs. John Garth." This card he +slipped into an envelope and closed down the flap. Then he addressed it, +and requested the clerk, "Kindly have this sent up immediately to Miss +Marks." + +While he awaited an answer, or the arrival of Zelie, Severance debated +whether or no to wire Mary Sorel. + +She had suggested his doing so, to prevent any danger of scandal in the +working out of the plan. But in his heart Tony had no longer the holy +terror of that bogey which had chilled him while OEnone was alive. + +Then, the least whisper of gossip connecting him with Miss Sorel, or +even Mrs. Garth, might have ruined the prospect of marriage with his +cousin: and that would have been, indirectly, as harmful to Marise as +himself. Now, however, when there was nothing further to be gained or +lost for either of them from Constantine Ionides, Severance need think +only of himself and Marise; and he thought of himself first. + +His intention was to take Marise away from Garth, who had no right to +the girl and was keeping her against her true wish. If necessary, +Severance would take her by force, for her own good, because then the +thing would be done and over with: there would be no going back. +But--anyhow--he would take her! + +Mums had urged him to wire, if his first attempt failed, and Garth +refused to see reason as presented to him with mild bluff. She wanted to +fly to the Grand Canyon and be on the spot--ready for emergencies--to +stand by her daughter. But Severance wasn't sure even now, as things had +turned out, whether he would be wise in furthering this wish. + +It was natural, of course. But just as scandal would have been fatal +before, it might be useful in the present situation. If her "Mums" were +close at hand, Marise might in the first confusion of her mind seek +refuge under the maternal wing, from the man she loved. If she did +anything futile like that, it would give Garth time to act: whereas, if +Marise had no refuge but her lover--oh, distinctly it would be tempting +Providence to telegraph to Mums! + + * * * * * + +"Well?" said Garth, when Marise stood statuelike in the blue dusk. + +"I don't think it _is_ very well," she answered slowly. + +"I warned you fairly that I'd not stand out of Severance's way," Garth +reminded her, his face so grey and grim in the twilight that the girl +remembered how she had thought it looked carved from rock. + +"Yet only a few minutes ago you offered to leave me, for a bribe of a +second million." + +"There can't be a 'second' million till there's been a first." + +"The principle is the same." + +"There's where you're mistaken. I think now the time has come for you to +understand. But I had a sneaking idea that perhaps you did understand, +already. You have a sense of humour--a strong one, for a woman." + +"Has a sense of humour anything to do with--this affair?" + +"Yes. A grim one. But if you don't see it----" + +"Sometimes for a minute I've wondered if I did see--something." + +"What did you think you saw?" + +"I--hardly care to put it into words." + +"All right. I'll do it for you. But if I do, you must answer honestly." + +"I will--if I answer at all." + +"Very well, I'll risk your answering. You wondered pretty often and by +flashes if the question of money ever had anything to do with my +accepting the damnable and disgusting offer Severance made to me. Was +that it?" + +"Ye-es. Though what else could it be, when you showed in every way that +your love--if it was love--had turned to--to actual _hate_, before you +married me?" + +"Oh, not so bad as that!" Garth protested, something like a queer, +suppressed laugh, shaking his voice. + +"Dislike, then." + +"That sounds as if I hadn't treated you decently." + +"No, for you _have_. You've been very decent indeed--except that you've +forced me to do lots of things I haven't wanted to do, like living in +that suite at the Plaza and--and coming out here, and all that." + +"Wasn't it necessary, as you were so anxious to avoid scandal?" + +"There might have been other ways." + +"I didn't see them. Anyhow, it's done now. It can't be undone. And as +things were, I've tried to treat you as you want to be treated, all +through. As to the money, I will defend myself there, since it seems +that you have seen to the bottom of the well--where truth lies!--only in +those short flashes. If Severance had ever tried to hand me a million +dollars or any other sum for what I've done, I'd have thrown it in his +face, and knocked the face in after it. That's what I meant from the +first. So now you know." + +"But--if you'd stopped wanting me? Why--why? You said yourself I didn't +seem to be a judge of how much it took to kill love." + +"Yes, I said that." + +"And you said other things. You said a million was always useful to +anyone----" + +"There I banked again on your sense of humour. Or perhaps a little on +your judgment of character." + +"I must confess I've tried to judge yours!" Marise exclaimed, almost in +spite of herself. "But I can't--I'm always stumbling against things--in +the dark." + +"Well, there's plenty of 'dark'! I admit that," said Garth. "Many people +would say that of me. Perhaps the only one who wouldn't is little +Mothereen, and we can't count her, can we? There are all sorts of horrid +possibilities in the dark, where a character's concerned. My motive, +though _not_ mercenary, might have been revenge punishment!" + +"That's often seemed to me the most likely!" cried Marise. "Especially +_now_." + +"Especially now? Explain, please." + +"Now, when you've brought _that girl_ out here, close to this house. You +did bring her, didn't you? You asked me to be honest. Be honest +yourself!" + +"By my request she came." + +"You paid for her to come?" + +"Yes, I couldn't let her give up a good job in New York, even for +awhile, and travel so far on my business, at her own expense--could I?" + +"On your business?" + +"Yes. I told you once that Miss Marks was an old friend. We've known +each other for years. She used to live at Albuquerque. Cath and Bill, +whom you met, are her cousins--or rather, Cath is. Mothereen is +fond----" + +"Ah, now I'm _sure_ of something I only wondered about before!" + +"Will you tell me what that is?" + +"A note for Meesis Garth from the Hotel El Tovar," announced the voice +of the half-breed maid. + +"Bring it to me!" Marise ordered. + +The girl, instinctively aware that she'd interrupted a "scene," tripped +across the terrace with an apologetic air. Marise almost snatched an +envelope from a little silver tray and tore it open. Her strong young +eyes could just make out through the dusk a few lines of written words. + +"This is from Zelie Marks!" she exclaimed, looking up at Garth. "She +wants me to come over at once and see her at the hotel. She says she has +been ill, and that's the reason she's staying on there." + +"She tells the truth. She had appendicitis. They thought there'd have to +be an operation, but they cured her up--or nearly--without. Why does she +ask to see you?" + +"She says she'll explain everything when I get there." + +"Do you intend to go?" + +"Yes. I'd like to hear--her story." + +"All right--go. You shall have the car, of course. But there are a few +things I'd prefer to tell you myself first." + +"I'd rather hear everything from her." + +Garth gave a shrug. "Very well. As you please. But you and she both seem +to forget dinner-time. You'll be hungry if----" + +"I won't be hungry!" cried Marise. "I want to start now." + +"I'll see to it for you," said Garth, with that quiet, rather heavy air +which irritated Marise sometimes and always puzzled her. For that was +one of the things about him which upset her judgment of his character. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII + +ZELIE GETS EVEN + + +"Will you step into Miss Marks's sitting-room? She's expecting you," +Marise was greeted, arriving at the hotel. + +"A private sitting-room! And Jack Garth's money pays for it," she +thought dully. But of course it was nothing to her. At least, it would +have been nothing if, while keeping it secret, he was not bent on +driving away the man who loved her--Marise. Oh, and that reminded her of +an important thing! It had been on her lips to accuse him of giving +Zelie the jewels, but she had been interrupted, or had forgotten. Then +the note had come from the hotel.... She would have the truth out of +Zelie herself. + +The sitting-room was on the ground floor, and had a loggia all its own, +lit by a red-shaded electric lamp, like an illuminated poppy. Zelie was +there in a huge American rocking-chair, gazing Canyonward under the +moon, when Mrs. Garth was shown into the room. Instantly the girl jumped +up, and Marise saw her framed in the door. She looked pale, and thinner +than she had been in New York. But the change wasn't unbecoming. + +The conventional thing would have been for Zelie to say, "How good of +you to come! I hope you didn't mind my sending for you, as I've been +ill." Whereupon Marise would naturally have answered, "Not at all." + +But nothing of the kind happened. The two girls eyed each other like +fencers, or even like cats. Then Marise said, "You see, I've come." + +"Yes," replied Zelie, "I supposed you would, after what Lord Severance +told me." + +Marise was startled. "Lord Severance! _What_ did he tell you?" + +"That you suspected your husband and me of all sorts of unmentionable +things, and that you wouldn't be satisfied until you'd had it out with +me. Well--now you can have it out with me. Fire away, Mrs. Garth. I've +nothing to be ashamed of. It's all the other way round." + +"What do you mean?" gasped Marise. + +"Well, frankly, I mean that you should be ashamed of suspecting him. You +ought to know him better." + +"I said not one word to Lord Severance about suspecting my--Major +Garth," Marise broke out in self-defence. + +"Didn't you?" echoed Zelie. "Well, that's funny, since he sent up his +card and told me you were wild. He urged and urged, if I had any +friendship for Jack Garth, to write and get you here." + +"That's very strange," said Marise. "But I suppose--one must +suppose!--he meant well. Now I am here, if you have anything to tell me +you might as well tell it." + +"Does Jack know you've come?" asked Zelie quietly. + +"He does. We were talking about you when your note arrived. You see, +Lord Severance mentioned that you were at the hotel." + +"Then why did you want to talk with me? Surely you'd believe Jack? I +shouldn't think _anyone_ ever accused him of lying!" + +"_I_ never did! But I--well, when your note came I thought I'd rather +hear everything from you. It wouldn't have occurred to me otherwise." + +"You mean you wouldn't have proposed coming over here if I hadn't +written?" + +"I shouldn't even have thought of it." + +"Then it's a game of Lord Severance's we seem to be playing." + +"I don't see his object," puzzled Marise. + +"Neither do I," replied Zelie--"yet. But as you say--now you are here, +we might as well talk. Won't you sit down?" + +"No, thank you," said Marise. "I'd rather stand." + +"Well, if you don't mind, _I'll_ sit. I'm not very strong yet, as I told +you in my letter, that's why I'm still here." + +"Oh, please do sit down!" cried Marise, more gently. "In that case I +will sit, too." + +"In justice to Jack I ought to tell you the whole story of why I came +out," said Zelie. "He and I decided it would be best for you not to +know. At least, _I_ decided, because I'm a woman and realise how a woman +feels about such things. However, as he let you come here to see me, he +must have expected you to hear the truth. Goodness knows, it's simple +enough, and won't take long in the telling! The morning after you were +married he called early to see me, and asked if I'd do him a big favour. +Of course I said yes. The favour was, to start out West at once, buy +pretty things to decorate your room at Vision House, get the whole place +in apple-pie order, and engage servants from somewhere--no matter where, +and no matter what wages. Mothereen wasn't strong enough to have the +whole work thrown on her shoulders, though she'd have loved it. But when +I'd finished a lot of commissions at Kansas City, I stopped at +Albuquerque and told her about you." + +"I wonder what you told?" Marise laughed a little nervously. + +"What Jack would have wanted me to tell, not what you deserved." + +Mrs. John Garth stiffened. "Are you the judge of what I deserve?" + +"God help you if I were! All I know about you is, that you're the most +spoiled, conceited girl I ever saw, and that you're not capable of +appreciating Jack Garth--no, not _capable_!" + +"You don't know in the least what I'm capable of!" The cheeks of Marise +were burning now. They felt as if they had been slapped. "I never showed +my real self to you. Why should I?" + +"Why, indeed? But you showed me all your gladdest rags, and your jewels +and newspaper notices, and let me answer lots of your love-letters, +meaning to make the poor secretary envious." + +"What horrid thoughts you had of me! I never meant that." + +"Subconsciously, if not consciously, that's _just_ what you did mean." + +"I won't dispute with you, Miss Marks. But speaking of jewels--since +you're being so frank--tell me if Major Garth didn't make a present to +you of a rope of pearls, an emerald laurel wreath, a sapphire and +diamond pendant----" + +Zelie was strongly tempted to answer bluntly "Yes." If she did, and left +it at that, Marise would be furious. She would go back to Vision House +and quarrel with Jack, even if the two hadn't quarrelled irrevocably +already, and the divorce which might give Jack to her would come soon. +But no, she had vowed to herself that she would be loyal to Jack through +everything. She had vowed, too, that she would "get even" with Marise +Sorel some day--and now was the day when she could "bring off the +stunt," as she said to herself. But she wouldn't get even in a way to +hurt Jack. If possible, she'd do it in a way to help him. + +"He gave me those things to take out to Mothereen and ask her to keep +them for you, till you came," lied Zelie. And lying, she looked more +indignantly virtuous than when she had been telling the simple truth. + +Marise believed her. + +"Is there anything more you want to know?" inquired + +Miss Marks. "Because if you do, I can't think of much which would +especially concern or interest you, except that Mothereen--Mrs. +Mooney--came to the Grand Canyon with me and helped as much in the work +as she was strong enough to do. So you needn't imagine she told you any +fibs. If there were _reservations_, I'm responsible. She'd have blabbed +out everything if I hadn't warned her you wouldn't be pleased to hear +that I'd been Jack's chosen messenger. You didn't like me much, I said. +You and your mother thought I was rather forward and above my place. +You'd think so a heap more if you knew. Mothereen promised to hold her +tongue. It must have been a struggle for her. She's as ingenuous as a +child. So is Jack in some ways. He'd have told you all about me if I +hadn't made him see it wouldn't do." + +"You seem to have been awfully solicitous on my account," said Marise. + +"It was on Jack's account really," explained Zelie. + +"I didn't want his apple-cart to be upset--no matter what I thought of +the apples. I didn't care a hang for them personally." + +Marise laughed. "The apples were me." + +"That's it. Pretty, good-smelling apples, with pink cheeks and satin +skin. But at heart--r-o-t-t-e-n!" + +"Thanks!" choked Marise, and got up. "Thank you for _all_ your +frankness. I could return some of it, but you've been ill, and _I_ don't +like being rude. I must just say one thing, however, before I go. You've +given yourself away dreadfully." + +Zelie stumbled to her feet. "How?" + +"By showing me exactly what your feeling is for Major Garth." + +"I'm his pal from the beginning to the end." + +Marise ignored the evasion. "You needn't be afraid that I'll be cad +enough to go and tell him what I think about you. He probably knows your +feelings and returns them, but----" + +"He doesn't. Are you a _damn_ fool, or are you only pretending?" + +"I daresay I'm a damn fool," repeated Marise sweetly. "In any case, I'm +not pretending." + +"Then you're doubly a fool!" shrilled Zelie. "A damned fool not to know +how Jack feels for you, and a damneder one not to know enough to feel +right towards him. Jack's the salt of the earth. There's more courage +and good faith and everything noble and big in his little finger than in +your whole lovely body. So now you can go home. And put _that_ in your +pocket!" + +Marise went. She shut the door softly, so softly and considerately that +it hurt worse than a loud slam. + +"I did get even with her!" Zelie thought. And plumped down on the sofa +with a sob. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII + +WHEN SEVERANCE THREW DOWN THE KEY + + +Not far from the door of Zelie Marks's room another door stood open. +Marise would have whirled past it without noticing, had not her name +been called. + +She turned her head, with a slight start, and saw Severance. + +"Come here a moment, my dear one," he said. "I have to speak to you." + +Marise hesitated. Her brain was not clear. She felt dazed, as if Zelie +had boxed her ears, as she had boxed Tony's earlier. She longed for +sympathy. No one--not even Garth himself!--had ever been so horrid to +her before, as Zelie had. + +Severance took her hand and drew her gently over the threshold into a +private sitting-room much like Miss Marks's. Then, when she was safely +inside the room, he shut the door, locked it, and jerked out the key. + +"Tony!" cried Marise. She felt as if some scene in one of her plays had +come true. Except that--Tony wasn't the villain who locked the heroine +in. _Surely_ he wasn't the villain! + +"This isn't the right time for a joke," she said. + +"And this isn't a joke," said Severance. + +"Well, unlock the door at once, please, and let me out," she insisted. +"I must go----" + +"Where must you go?" he asked. + +"Where! Ho--back, of course." + +"To Garth--after what happened between us three at his house this +evening? It's impossible for you to go back to him, Marise. He can't +expect it himself. When you came away to-night--if he knew you came--he +must have known the whole thing was finished, the farce played out." + +The girl felt as if a chilly breeze blew over her. She did not answer +for a moment. She was wondering in an awed way if Tony were right. Was +that the reason Garth had let her go so easily, to answer Zelie's note +in person? But no. He had only just reminded her the moment before how +he'd never intended giving her up to Severance. Still--when she thought +of it--what _was_ there to go back for, unless she intended to stay +married to Garth--to be married to him as other women were married to +their husbands? + +She had never contemplated that, even at the times--and there had been +times--when she'd admired Garth, admired him with a secret thrill. +Besides, no matter how much Garth had wanted her, in the first throes of +his infatuation, he didn't want her now--for good. Oh, such an end to +the play wasn't to be dreamed of, from whichever side you looked at it! + +"If I go away anywhere from Vision House, it will be to my mother," she +said at last. + +"Yes, of course. That's where I'm going to take you. We'll go to-night. +There's a train we----" + +"I can't possibly go with you!" she cried. "Don't you see, to do that +would cause the very scandal we've all sacrificed so much to prevent?" + +"I do see," said Tony. "But you said yourself to-day that 'everything +had changed.' We don't need to be afraid of scandal any more. It can't +hurt us now. It will do us good. Marise, I've been thinking things over, +and I believe that the only way we can get that brute to free you is by +deliberately making a scandal. All the trouble comes from your throwing +yourself at the fellow's head in such a hurry. If you'd waited, OEnone +dying when she did would have made your marriage useless. You and I +would both have been free----" + +"We were both free before you decided you'd have to marry OEnone," +broke in Marise. + +"That was different. I was in debt and hadn't a penny to play with. I +couldn't live on you. Now my debts are paid, and though they've not left +me a very rich man, I've got something to go on with----" + +"You have, because Jack Garth won't take your money." + +"Oh, wouldn't he, if he could get it?" + +"No!" + +"Well, again, there'd be no question of money at present between him and +me if you'd waited, and hadn't tangled yourself up in this beastly knot +to spite me. Now I'll have to get you out of the tangle as best I can. +You can't do it yourself, and Garth will hang on to you for the same +motive you had--spite, if nothing more. Go with me to-night. Be brave. +_Make_ a scandal. Then for the sake of that mother of his--and for his +pride if he has any, if not, for the appearance of it--he'll free you." + +Marise was very pale. "A little while ago," she said, "you spoke of +Zelie Marks being here to give--an excuse for divorce." + +"Yes. That seems the likely thing. Garth probably arranged it when he +expected money from me, to make divorce worth his while. Now we've had a +row, more or less, and he knows that at best he can't get much. His cry +is 'all or nothing.' He won't use Miss Marks as a pretext." + +"I tell you he never intended to accept money!" insisted Marise. + +"That's a new opinion of yours, isn't it?" + +"I never _felt_ he would touch it. But I didn't know surely. Now I do." + +"I wonder how?" + +"I do--that's all." + +"Well, by Jove; I never expected to hear you taking Garth's part against +me!" Tony exploded. + +"I'm not doing that," Marise said. "We've all been horrid and detestable +in this business, you and I, and even poor Mums--for my sake----" + +"What about Garth? Is he on a higher plane?" + +"Yes, he _is_!" exclaimed the girl. "He loved me once. He wanted to +marry me then--just for love. How he felt afterwards--or how he feels +now--I don't know. But--he's not a _beast_." + +"And I am?" + +"Oh, I put myself and Mums in the same box with you. I'm saying nothing +of you I don't say of ourselves." + +"Well, so be it!" said Severance. "I'm a beast, if you like, and you're +the female of my kind. All the more reason why you belong to me. Nothing +shall separate us again. Even if we can't marry----" + +"Let me go out of this room!" the girl cried sharply. + +"No! Your _mother_ approved of my plan, I tell you, Marise. She saw it +was the only way, for me to take you----" + +"I don't believe it! There's not an unconventional drop of blood in +Mums' veins. If she wanted me to be 'taken' anywhere, it would be to +her. She would have come to this hotel, and received me. Then, perhaps, +I would have stayed--but not for you. I don't _love_ you, Tony! I've +discovered that. I wouldn't marry you if I could." + +"You're out of your senses!" he cried. "You may think what you say at +this minute, because you're angry. But your _heart's_ mine. I won't let +you go----" + +"If you don't, I'll scream," threatened Marise. "Open that door at once, +or I'll yell at the top of my lungs." + +"I don't think you will," said Severance. "You don't like scenes, except +on the stage. Besides, I don't care a damn if you do yell. It won't +change things in the end." + +The girl's answer was to lift her voice and shriek as only a trained +actress can shriek. + +Instantly, before she had reached her highest note, Garth stepped over +the low window-sill. + +"I was waiting for that," he said. "I knew you were here, Marise, so I +lurked on the loggia. Unlock that door, Severance." + +The other man was olive grey with rage and disappointment. It occurred +to Marise that he looked seasick. + +"Unlock the damned thing yourself!" he spat, and flung the key on the +floor. + +It landed near Garth's feet. But Garth did not stoop. + +"Pick up the key," he said quietly. + +"I'm damned if I will!" sputtered Severance. + +"Not so many damns, please," said Garth. "They bore me." He took a +Browning from his pocket and aimed it neatly at the centre of +Severance's forehead. "Better pick up the key," he added. + +Severance picked it up. + +"Now unlock the door." + +Severance unlocked it, and walked out into the hall. Then he slammed the +door after him. Voices were heard. + +"Somebody's come to inquire why somebody screamed," said Garth, +pocketing the weapon again. "If they knock here, it's all right. Mr. and +Mrs. Garth have a right to a _tete-a-tete_ anywhere. I'll say you +thought you saw a mouse. That'll settle their doubts forever." + +But nobody knocked. + +"Don't be afraid," Garth went on. "Even if you came in here because you +wanted to come, I shan't make a row. But somehow I've got a 'hunch' that +you didn't want to." + +"I didn't," said Marise. + +"He pulled you in?" + +"Yes. I didn't think much of it at first. But----" + +"Well, I don't believe he'll trouble you again. Not ever. I felt he +might make a fool of himself to-night, though. So I came over, in case I +should be needed. Now, what do you want to do--I mean, _really_ want? I +consider Severance wiped off the map--_your_ map. So if you wish to be +free of me, I'll make you so. While Severance was in the offing I'd have +stuck to you like a leech, because you're too good for him. That +Browning wasn't loaded. But I'd have killed the fellow sooner than give +you up to him. It's different now. I'll take you to Los Angeles, to your +mother at Bell Towers to-night if you like." + +Marise was silent. + +"You've only got to say," he prompted her. + +To his intense surprise and her own, Marise began to cry. Tears poured +down her cheeks. She flung herself on a sofa and sobbed. "I'm so--so +unhappy!" + +Garth's face grew slowly red as he looked at her. "I'm sorry for that," +he said. "Once I was willing you should be unhappy. I'm past that now. +But you needn't be unhappy long. You don't even have to spend another +night in Vision House. Your mother----" + +"You want me to go," gulped Marise. "You really love Zelie Marks----" + +"You're talking in your hat," he sharply cut her short. "You know I +don't love Zelie Marks. What Severance said about her and me to-day was +disgusting. She and I are friends. She's a good girl and a grand pal. I +wouldn't hurt her even for you. And I tell you this, Marise, now that I +know--for I do know!--that you won't marry that cad Severance, you can +divorce me. But it will have to be done decently. You can go to Reno and +live there for a few months with Mrs. Sorel. Then you can free yourself +on the grounds that our tempers are incompatible. But no woman's to be +lugged in, even a stranger. I won't stand for that. For the sake of +Mothereen and my Victoria Cross I won't be dragged in the dirt. I'll not +give you what the lawyers call 'cause.' So there you are. Now you know." + +But Marise still sobbed. "I don't--don't wish to drag anyone in the +dust!" she wailed. + +"I'm sure you don't," said Garth, in an impersonal tone, a tone of kind +encouragement. "You've changed quite a lot since New York, though the +time's been short. You can't measure these things by time! I _hoped_ +you'd change. You were an adorable girl, but I told you once that you +were spoiled and selfish, and you were--all of that. You weren't a +woman. Now you are. I counted a bit on the effect of Mothereen. And I +counted a whole lot on the Canyon. They're both worked their spells more +or less, I shouldn't wonder. But you haven't changed to _me_. Not that I +ever really dared expect that. But I sort of _hoped_--at first. I'm not +blaming you, though. I took the risk--and let you take it. Now for the +next thing." + +"Now for--the next thing!" repeated Marise, between sobs; and searched +wildly in her gold-mesh bag. "For Heaven's sake lend me a handkerchief," +she wept. + +Garth lent it, a linen one, not scented as Severance's handkerchief +would have been, but fresh and clean-smelling. + +"We're still in that cad's room," Garth said, looking round with a +frown. "But he won't bother us. And we'd better thrash things out, now +we're about it. We must decide where you're to go. You know, Marise, I'm +on long leave. I never quite made up my mind whether to go back to my +regiment, or chuck the army for good, and stay over here. I thought some +day I'd hear a clear call, one way or the other, while there was time to +decide. And I knew Mothereen wouldn't long be far off from me, whatever +I did. But now I leave it to you to settle the matter for me. I expect I +owe you that, for all my sulkiness. If you want to live over on this +side, I'll go back to England--my father's country. If you'd like to +take up your career there again, rather than you should risk running up +against me all the time, I'll resign my commission--as Severance and a +lot of fellows like him hoped they could make me do!--settle down in +Arizona and--forget the war." + +"Forget me, you mean!" said Marise. + +His tone changed, and he spoke in a lower voice. "I don't expect ever to +forget you, Marise." + +"But you'd like to!" + +"I'm not so sure of that, in spite of all." + +"You will be, when you marry Zelie Marks." + +"Zelie Marks again!" + +"Or somebody else." + +"I shall never marry, Marise. That's as certain as that I'm alive. I +haven't any love to give another woman after you. You had it every bit. +But that's not an interesting subject to you, is it? Can you make up +your mind to-night and answer my question? Shall it be England for you +and America for me, or--_vice versa_?" + +"You _liked_ the army, didn't you? You didn't want to give it up." + +"I wasn't going to be driven out by Severance and Co. I shouldn't mind +so much going of my own accord." + +"Wouldn't you like to stay in the Guards for some years anyhow, and reap +the reward of what you've done?--coming over here to Vision House now +and then on leave, till you're ready to rest and settle down for good?" + +"Sounds pretty ideal, as you put it. But I'll be content enough either +way. It's for you to decide for me, as things stand. But oh, by the by, +I forgot! I'm really rather a rich man, Marise. I've made my fortune +three times over, and I've got umpteen thousands more than I need for +myself or Mothereen. I want you to have alimony----" + +"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "I'm rich too--quite rich, enough." + +"But I _wish_ you to take something of mine, don't you understand? And +money's the only thing I have that you could possibly care to have." + +Marise began to cry again, twice as hard as before. + +"There is--something else of yours I'd care to have," she choked, +"if--if it isn't too late." + +"It's never too late." + +"But you don't know what I mean." + +"No. Not yet----" + +"I mean--your _love_. You said--I'd killed it." + +Garth took one step from the middle of the little sitting-room to the +sofa, and sat down beside the girl. He crowded her as Severance had done +that afternoon, but she didn't move an inch. + +"I didn't say that!" He spoke the words in her hair--that silky hair +which had seemed too divine to touch. "I asked you how much you thought +it took to kill love. But nothing could kill mine for you. Nothing on +earth or in hell. And I _have_ been in hell, Marise." + +"Come to heaven with me, then," she whispered, and clasped his neck with +both her young arms. Her cheek, wet with tears, was pressed against his. + +"You--_mean_ it?" he stammered. + +"Yes--yes. I _love_ you! Because--you're so _queer_, you made me, +somehow. I know now I never really loved anyone but you. And I never +will if--you _care_!" + +"Care? I'm in heaven already." He framed her face in his hands and +kissed her on the lips, a long, long kiss that made up for everything. + +"In heaven?" she murmured. "So am I. But it will be better at Vision +House. _Dear_ Vision House. Dear _home_!" + +Garth sprang up, bringing her with him, his arm round her waist. + +"Let's go now!" he said. + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Vision House, by +C. N. Williamson and A. M. 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