by Elinor Glyn
XV
I was awfully glad to see old Maurice again--he was looking brown andless dilettante--though his socks and tie and eyes matched as well asever! He congratulated me on the improvement in health in myself too,and then he gave me all the news--.
Odette has been "painting the lily," and used some new skin tightenerwhich has disfigured her for the moment, and she has retired to thefamily place near Bordeaux to weep until her complexion is restoredagain--.
"Very unfortunate for her," Maurice said--"because she had nearlysecured a roving English peer who had enjoyed 'cushy' jobs during thewar, and had been recruiting from the fatigues of red-taping atDeauville--and now, with this whisper of a spoiled skin, he hadtransferred his attentions to Coralie--and there was trouble among thegraces!"--Alice's plaintiveness had actually caught a very rich neutralwho was forwarding philanthropic schemes for great ladies--and she hopedsoon to wed.
Coralie seemed in the most secure and happy case, since she is alreadyestablished, and can enjoy herself without anxiety.--Maurice hinted thatbut for her _beguin_ for me, she could land the English peer, anddivorce poor Rene--her docile war husband--and become an EnglishCountess!
"Thou hast upset everything, Nicholas. Duquesnois is desolated--Coraliechanged directly she saw you here--he says--and then to divert herselfand forget you, took Lord Brockelbank from Odette!"
"_Vieux coquin! Va!_" and Maurice patted me on the back--.
They were enchanted with my presents to them lately, he added, and wereall longing to return to Paris soon and thank me.
The war was simply growing into a nuisance and the quicker it was overthe better for everyone.(!)
Then he beat about the bush for a little longer and at last began togrow nearer the vital subject!--
He had seen some of my Mont Aubin relations--fortunately for me, theyhave been far from Paris in this last year--and they had anxiously askedhim if I thought of marrying?--What in fact _was_ I doing with myselfnow that my wounds were healing?
I laughed--.
"I am so glad my mother was an only child and they are none of them nearenough to have the right to bore me--they had better continue their goodworks at Biarritz--I am told my cousin Marguerite's convalescent home isa marvel! I have sent her frequent donations."
Then Maurice plunged in--.
"You are not--becoming entangled in any way with your secretary, are you_Mon ami_?" he asked.
I had decided beforehand that I would not get angry at anything hesaid--so I was ready for this.
"No, Maurice--" and I poured out a second glass of port for him--Burtonhad left us alone by now--. "Miss Sharp does not know that I exist--sheis simply here to do her work, and is the best secretary any man couldwant--I knew Coralie would infect you with some silly idea."
Maurice sipped his port.--"Coralie said that in spite of the girl'sglasses there was some air of distinction about her--as she walkedon--and that she _knew_ and _felt_ you were interested."
I remained undisturbed.
"I am, immensely interested--I want to know who she really is. She is alady--even a lady of our world.--I mean she knows about things inEngland--where she has never been--that she could not possibly knowunless her family had spoken of them always. She has that unconsciousair of familiarity and ease with subjects which would surprise you.Can't you find anything out for me, old boy, as to who she is?"
"I will certainly try--Sharp?--it is not a name of the greatworld--no--?"
"Of course that is not her real name--"
"Why not ask her yourself, _Mon brave_!"
"I'd like to find a man with pluck enough to ask her anything she didnot wish him to!"
"That little girl!--but she appeared meek and plain, and respectable,Nicholas--You intrigue me!"
"Well, put your wits to work Maurice, and promise me you will not talkto the others about anything. I shall be very angry if you do."
He gave me every assurance he would be silent as the grave--and then hechanged the topic to that of Suzette--He was sorry I had given her herconge, because I would find it hard to replace her--Those so honest andreally not too rapacious, were very difficult to find--Since he hadheard that Suzette was no longer my little friend, he had been lookingout for me, but as yet had seen nothing suitable!!
"You need not trouble, Maurice," I told him, "I am absolutely finishedwith that part of my life--I loathe the whole idea of it now--."
Maurice inspected me with grave concern--.
"My dear chap--this appears serious--You are not _in love_ with yoursecretary are you?--or is it possible that you are bluffing, and thatshe has replaced Suzette, and you wish tranquility about the subject?"
I felt a hot flush mounting to my forehead--The very thought of myadored little girl in the category of Suzette!--I could have struck myold friend--but I had just sense enough to reason things. Maurice wasonly speaking as any of the Paris world would speak. A secretary, whom aman was obviously interested in, was certainly not out of the runningfor the post of "_Maitresse-en-titre!_"
He meant no personal disrespect to Alathea. For him women were either ofthe world or they were not!--True, there was an intermediate class "_Lesbraves gens_"--_Bourgeoises_--servants, typists, etc., etc.--But onecould only be interested in one of these for one reason. That is howthings appeared to Maurice. I knew his views; perhaps I had shared themin some measure in my unregenerate days.
"Look here Maurice--I want you to understand--that Miss Sharp is a ladyin every way--I have already told you this but you don't seem to havegrasped it--and that she has my greatest respect--and it makes me sickto think of anyone talking of her as you have just done. Although I knowyou did not mean anything low, you old owl!--She treats me as though Iwere a tiresome, elderly employer--whom she must give obedience to, butis not obliged to converse with. She would not permit the slightestfriendship or familiarity from any man she worked for."
"Your interest is then serious, Nicholas?"
Maurice was absolutely aghast!
"My _respect_ is serious--my curiosity is hot--and I wantinformation."----
Maurice tried to feel relieved--.
"Supposing financial disaster fell upon your family, old boy--would youconsider your sister less of a lady because she had to earn bread foryou all by being a typist!"
"Of course not--but it would be very dreadful!--Marie!--Oh! I could notthink of it!"
"Then try to get the idea into your thick head that Miss Sharp isMarie--and behave accordingly--That is how I look at her."
Maurice promised that he would, and our talk turned to the Duchesse--hehad seen her at a cross country station as he came up, and she would beback in Paris the following week--This thought gave me comfort. Everyonewould be back by the fifteenth of October he assured me, and then wecould all amuse ourselves again--.
"You will be quite well enough to dine out, Nicholas--Or if not you mustmove to the Ritz with me, so that you at least have entertainment on thespot, _Mon cher_!"
We spoke then of the book--Furniture was a really refined andinteresting subject for me to be delving into. Maurice longed to readthe proofs, he averred.
When he had left me, I lay back in my chair and asked myself what hadhappened to me?--that Maurice and all that lot seemed such miles andmiles away from me--as miles and miles as they would have seemed intheir triviality, when we used to discuss important questions in "Pop"at Eton.
How I must have sunk in the years which followed those dear old days,ever even to have found divertisement among the people like Maurice andthe fluffies. Surely even a one-eyed and one-legged man ought to be ableto do something for his country politically, it suddenly seemed tome--and what a glorious picture to gaze at!--If I could some day go intoParliament, and have Alathea beside me, to give me inspiration and helpme to the best in myself. How her poise would tell in English politicalsociety! How her brain and her power of exercising her criticalfaculties! Apart from the fact that I love every inch of her wisp of abody--What an asset that mind would
be to any man!--And I dreamed anddreamed in the firelight--things all filled with sentiment andexaltation, which of course no fellow could ever say aloud, or letanyone know of--A journal is certainly an immense comfort, and I do notbelieve I could have gone through this hideous year of my life withoutit.
How I would love to have Alathea for my wife--and have children--Itcan't be possible that I have written that! I loathe children in theabstract--they bore me to death--Even Solonge de Clerte's twoentertaining angels--but to have a son--with Alathea's eyes----God! howthe thought makes me feel!--How I would like to sit and talk with her ofhow we should bring him up--I reached out my hand and picked up a volumeof Charles Lamb and read "Dream Children"--and as I finished I felt thatidiotic choky sensation which I have only begun to know since somethingin me has been awakened by Alathea--or since my nerves have been on therack--I don't remember ever feeling much touched, or weak, or silly,before the war--.
And now what have I to face--?
A will, stronger, or as strong as my own--A prejudice of the deepestwhich I cannot explain away--A knowledge that I have no power to retainthe thing I love--No guerdon to hold out to her mentally orphysically--Nothing but the material thing of money--which because ofher great unselfishness and desire to benefit her loved ones, she mightbe forced to consider. My only possibility of obtaining her at all is tobuy her with money. And when once bought,--when I had her here in myhouse,--would I have the strength to resist the temptation to takeadvantage of the situation?--Could I go on day after day never touchingher,--never having any joys?--until the greatness of my love somehowmelted her dislike and contempt of me--?
I wish to God I knew.
She will never marry me unless I give my word of honour that the thingwill only be an empty ceremony--of that I feel sure even ifcircumstances aid me to force her into doing this much. And then one hasto keep one's word of honour. And might not that be a greater hell thanI am now in of suffering?
Perhaps I had better go to the sea--like Suzette--and try to break thewhole chain and forget her--.
I rang the bell for Burton then, and told him of my new plan, as he putme to bed. We would go off to St. Malo,--for a week, and I gave ordersthat he should make the necessary arrangements to get permits. To travelanywhere now is no end of a difficulty.
I wrote to Alathea without weakening--I asked her to collect the Mss.and make notes of what she thought still should be altered--during myabsence--I wrote as stiffly, and in as business like a manner aspossible--and finally I went to sleep, and slept better than I have donefor some time.
* * * * *
_St. Malo:_
How quaint these places are! I am at this deserted corner by thesea--where the hotel is comfortable, and hardly touched by the war--I amnot happy--the air is doing me good, that is all--I have broughtbooks--I am not trying to write--I just read and endeavor to sleep--andthe hours pass. I tell myself continually that I am no more interestedin Alathea--that I am going to get well, and go back to England--that Ihave emerged, and am a man with a free will once more--and I am a greatdeal better--.
After all, how absurd to be thinking of a woman, from morning to night!
When I get my new leg, and everything is all healed, up in a year ortwo, shall I be able to ride again?--Of course I shall, no doubt, andeven play a little tennis?--I can shoot anyway--if we will be allowed topreserve partridges and pheasants when the war is over in England.
Yes, of course life is a gorgeous thing--I like the fierce wind to blowin my face--and yesterday, much to Burton's displeasure, I went outsailing--.
How could I be such a fool, he inferred--as to chance a wrench puttingme back some months again--But one has to chance things occasionally. Inever enjoyed a sail more because of this very knowledge.
* * * * *
A week has passed since we came to this end of the earth--and again Ihave grown restless--perhaps it is because Burton came in just now witha letter in his hand--. I recognized immediately Alathea's writing.
"I made so bold as to leave the young lady our address before we left,Sir Nicholas, in case she wanted to communicate with us, and she writesnow to say, would I be good enough to ask you if you took with youChapter Seven, because she cannot find it anywhere."
Then he went on with evident constraint to tell me that the rest of theletter said that while she was working on Friday a "Mademoiselle laBlonde" called, and insisted upon passing Pierre who answered thedoor--and coming in to her--("It was Mam'zelle of course, Sir Nicholas!"Burton snapped!) And that she had demanded my address--but Miss Sharphad not felt she was justified in giving it to her--but had said letterswould be forwarded--.
"I hope to goodness that the baggage made no scene with the young lady,Sir Nicholas," Burton growled--"Of course she don't say in theletter--but it's more than likely--I would not have her insulted for theworld."
"Nor I either," I retorted angrily--"Suzette ought to know better nowthat I have given her everything she wanted--Will you let her understandplease that this must not occur again--."
"I'll see that the lawyer does it, Sir--that is the only way to dealwith them persons--though Mam'zelle was the best of her sort. Seems tome Sir Nicholas, they are more bother than they are worth. I said italways, even when I was younger--They leave their trail of trouble whereever they go."
How I agreed with him!
So here was a fresh barrier arisen between Alathea and myself!--a freshbarrier which I cannot explain away. The only comfort I get out of thewhole thing is that imperative necessity must have been driving mylittle darling--or she would not put up with any of these things for amoment, and would have given her _demission_ at the same time as shewrote.
If money is so necessary to her--perhaps after all I could get herconsent to marry me--The very thought made my pulses bound again--andall my calm flew to the winds! All the sage reasoning which wasbeginning to have an effect upon me evaporated!--I knew that once more Iwas as utterly under the spell of her attraction, as the moment when mypassionate lips touched her soft reluctant ones--Ah! that thought! thatmemory--One I have never let myself indulge in--but now, all resistancebroken on every side,--I spent the rest of the day dreaming about thejoy of that kiss--until by night time I was as mad as a hatter, and morefull of cruel unrest than ever--.
I hate this place--I hate the sea--It is all of no use--I shall go backto Paris.
