The Blue Sapphire

by D. E. Stevenson

  We had a long talk. Your father asked me to go to Leddiesford and persuade you to come home and, although it was inconvenient for me to leave Town, I considered it my duty to accede to his request.

  I have found a youth who is willing to deliver my letter and await a reply. It is unnecessary for you to remunerate him for his trouble as I have already done so.

  This inn is exceedingly uncomfortable and dirty—I had no idea that such an uncivilised hostelry could exist in modern times—but fortunately I need not stay here long.

  With all good wishes, believe me, my dear Julia.

  Yours sincerely,

  Morland Beverley

  Julia read the letter twice, then she raised her eyes and looked at Neil.

  ‘What am I to do!’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh, Neil, what am I to do? He wants to see me!’

  ‘Well, of course he wants to see you! You don’t suppose he came all the way from London for the pleasure of staying at the Black Bull? What else does he say? Here, give me the letter!’

  Julia hesitated, but not for long; she was aware that Neil would give her no peace until he knew all about it, so he might as well read the letter himself.

  Neil took it from her half-reluctant hand and read it. ‘Great Scott!’ he exclaimed. ‘What an extraordinary letter! Does he talk like that?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘“I considered it my duty to accede to his request,”’ quoted Neil. ‘“It is unnecessary for you to remunerate him for his trouble.”’

  ‘No, of course he doesn’t talk like that,’ said Julia indignantly. ‘He writes like that because he’s used to writing business letters.’

  ‘But this isn’t a business letter.’

  ‘Besides, I expect—I mean you can see he’s feeling rather embarrassed,’ added Julia.

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ agreed Neil, who was always willing to consider other people’s difficulties. ‘I can see it’s a bit embarrassing for him, and of course the Black Bull is all he says—and more. He ought to have gone to the Harburn Arms, which is very comfortable indeed. I expect they told him at the station to go to the Black Bull. The ticket collector is Rab’s brother-in-law.’

  ‘Rab?’

  ‘Rab Sinclair, the innkeeper, of course. Come on, Julia,’ added Neil rising to his feet. ‘We’d better get moving.’

  ‘Get moving?’

  ‘To the Black Bull, of course.’

  ‘Go to the Black Bull!’ cried Julia in horrified tones. ‘But Neil, I don’t want to——’

  ‘You’ll have to see him.’

  ‘Not now!’

  ‘Yes, now; this minute,’ said Neil cheerfully. ‘Come on and get it over. If there’s something unpleasant to be done it’s better to do it at once, whether it’s getting a tooth out or facing a difficult interview. You can’t possibly refuse to see the fellow when he’s come all the way from London.’

  ‘I could see him to-morrow.’

  ‘No, to-night. You won’t sleep a wink if you don’t get it over to-night.’

  This was so true that she made no attempt to deny it. She rose reluctantly and went to put on her outdoor shoes.

  *

  2

  When Julia came downstairs Neil was waiting for her in the hall.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Maggie,’ he said in muted tones. ‘I told her we were going for a walk and might be a bit late. There’s no need for her to know anything about it. Here’s the latch-key; you can put it in your pocket. Come on, Julia!’

  ‘But you aren’t coming, Neil!’

  ‘That’s where you’re wrong, my girl! We’re cousins, aren’t we? Besides, I’m not going to let you out of my sight. It wouldn’t be safe.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be safe?’

  ‘Well, you never know,’ explained Neil, putting his arm through hers as they walked along together. ‘If the man is such a desperate character he might abduct you and carry you off to London. We can’t risk that.’

  In spite of her distress Julia could not help smiling at the idea of Morland as a desperate character, at the idea of Morland abducting her! Morland who, even when they were engaged to be married, considered it unseemly to walk with her arm in arm (as Neil, though not engaged to her, nor ever likely to be, was walking with her now).

  ‘But seriously, Julia,’ said Neil, giving her arm a little squeeze. ‘Seriously, you’re not going back with him, are you? I mean it’s so frightfully important for you to be here because of Uncle Ran. You realise that, don’t you? If he has this operation it will be touch and go. Mr. MacTavish says quite frankly that there’s only a fifty-fifty chance of his pulling through.’

  ‘A fifty-fifty chance! Oh, Neil, perhaps we shouldn’t——’

  ‘If he doesn’t have the operation he’ll die,’ declared Neil in a hard, strained voice. ‘You know that yourself. Maggie knows it too.’

  They walked on in silence.

  ‘I don’t want to go,’ said Julia at last. ‘I was frightfully unhappy at home—I told you that, didn’t I?—but I was just wondering whether I ought to go and try to persuade Father to make up that dreadful quarrel. I don’t know whether I could persuade him, but perhaps I ought to try.’

  ‘You mustn’t go,’ declared Neil with conviction. ‘If Uncle Ran was all right I’d say yes, go and do what you can—but he’s very ill and he needs you.’

  ‘Really and truly needs me?’

  ‘Yes. Your being here might just tip the scales in his favour. He’s terribly fond of you . . . but you don’t need me to tell you that.’

  ‘I’m terribly fond of him.’

  ‘Well, that’s settled, then,’ said Neil with a sigh of relief.

  Now that it was settled they walked on more quickly and conversed about other matters. Neil did most of the talking, as he always did, and his talk was cheerful and enlivening. It was impossible to feel gloomy when Neil was in an entertaining mood, and Julia’s spirits rose accordingly.

  They walked down the hill and through the outskirts of the little town, and presently arrived at the bridge and the inn which was situated on the bank of the river.

  ‘Here we are,’ said Neil. ‘Allow me to introduce you to the Black Bull, the historic hostelry where Jamie the Saxth is said to have broken his journey on his way to London to get his crown. Much more likely to have broken his crown on one of the oaken beams in the ceiling.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ declared Julia in bewilderment. ‘Who is Jimmy the Sacks?’

  (Julia had become acquainted with Bill the Fish and Tom the Milk and others of their kidney, who rushed about madly on bicycles all over Leddiesford delivering their wares and occasionally were to be met with in Maggie’s kitchen enjoying a ‘fly-cup’ and discussing the latest gossip, but Jimmy the Sacks was a new one on her.)

  ‘Lassie, lassie!’ exclaimed Neil in dolorous accents. ‘Did they niver lairn ye hist’ry at skule?’

  At any other time Julia would have laughed, as she always did at Neil’s Doric, but they were now actually standing outside the door of the historic hostelry and the approaching ordeal was so heavy on her mind that she could think of nothing else.

  ‘You aren’t coming in, are you?’ she asked in sudden alarm; for although it would be bad enough to face Morland alone, it would be twenty times worse if Neil intended to be present at the interview.

  ‘No, no, of course not,’ said Neil. ‘I might lose my wool and hit him on the head; but I won’t be far off, so just scream if you want help. I’ll nip into the bar and wait for you. Don’t be too long,’ he added. ‘Beer doesn’t suit my constitution and I can’t afford whisky.’

  Julia was aware that all this nonsense was designed to encourage her, but it encouraged her none the less. She was almost smiling when she pushed open the shabby, ill-fitting door of the inn.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The front door of the Black Bull opened straight into the lounge, a large room with black oak beams across the ceiling. It had once been the taproom where st
age-coach passengers refreshed themselves before proceeding on their journey, and in those bygone days it was probably a cheerful place with a sanded floor, noisy with the sound of voices and laughter and the clink of tankards on the wooden tables; now it was a dismal apartment, dingy and badly ventilated, furnished with small rickety tables and uncomfortable chairs. Outside in the street it was still daylight, but the ceiling was low and the windows were small and dirty. The room was dark except for one small lamp on the table in the farthest corner, where a man was sitting reading a newspaper.

  At first Julia was not sure whether or not the solitary man was Morland, but when she approached she saw that it was.

  ‘Hallo, Morland!’ she said; and was annoyed to find that her voice was trembling.

  ‘Julia!’ he exclaimed in astonishment, dropping the paper and rising to meet her. ‘Julia! I didn’t expect to see you to-night!’

  ‘I thought I’d just—come,’ she explained. ‘I thought it was better to—to——’ (She had been about to say ‘get it over,’ but that seemed unnecessarily rude.)

  ‘Yes, of course,’ he agreed. ‘Much better to come. I don’t suppose your uncle would want to see me. That’s why I wrote. This is a frightful place, but everyone seems to sit in the bar, so we can talk here comfortably in private.’

  In private perhaps, thought Julia, but not comfortably. Morland seemed just as uncomfortable as herself.

  ‘Would you like tea or—or something?’ he asked as they sat down. ‘I don’t suppose they’ve got sherry. There’s plenty of whisky, of course—it’s the only decent thing in this ghastly hole—but I don’t suppose you would care for that?’

  ‘Nothing, thank you. I mustn’t stay more than a few minutes. I just came to tell you that I can’t go home at present because my uncle is very ill indeed and may have to have a serious operation. I couldn’t possibly go away and leave him.’

  ‘Your father wants you to come home immediately.’

  ‘But he doesn’t understand. I must stay with Uncle Randal until he’s better.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ declared Morland. ‘It’s your duty to obey your father and come home at once.’

  ‘It’s my duty to stay here until Uncle Randal is better. It is, really. You see he sort of depends on me; he hasn’t got anyone else belonging to him. Perhaps you could explain that to Father. I’ve written and told him about it, but perhaps he doesn’t understand. If you could explain——’

  Morland was leaning forward in his chair. ‘Listen, Julia,’ he said eagerly. ‘This is what I want to tell you; I said I had good news for you, didn’t I? Well, I’ve been given the partnership. Isn’t that splendid? We can be married quite soon.’

  ‘Married!’

  ‘Yes. I told your father yesterday—it was one of the matters we discussed. When I told him about the partnership he was delighted. He talked about very generous marriage settlements, and agreed that we should be married as soon as possible. He said——’

  ‘Morland!’ cried Julia. ‘I don’t know what you mean! Our engagement was broken off.’

  ‘We had a little misunderstanding, but that was nothing. People often have misunderstandings, don’t they? We both got rather heated and said things we didn’t mean . . . but that’s all over now. It’s stupid to quarrel, isn’t it? Look, Julia, here’s your ring. Let’s make it up and be friends.’

  ‘Oh no!’ she cried. ‘No, I couldn’t! I mean of course I’m willing to be friends—nobody hates quarrelling more than I do—but I couldn’t marry you. I couldn’t possibly!’

  ‘You couldn’t marry me?’ asked Morland incredulously.

  ‘I couldn’t! I couldn’t bear it!’

  ‘Julia, what do you mean? We were engaged for months.’

  ‘Our engagement was broken off.’

  ‘It was just a misunderstanding.’

  ‘It was more than that.’

  ‘It was a misunderstanding,’ repeated Morland. ‘I was annoyed because you wouldn’t listen to my advice. I should have been more patient—I see that now. You had just got the letter from your uncle and you were upset to hear he was so ill; you were sorry for him—that was natural. You didn’t understand that it would offend your father if you came to Leddiesford without his permission; you didn’t realise what you were doing. I should have explained it to you carefully; I should have been more patient . . . but it’s all over now, isn’t it? You’ll come home and your father will forgive you and we can be married quite soon. We love each other—that’s all that matters. I’ve got the partnership so we needn’t wait any longer. Everything is all right now.’

  Julia listened in dismay. Poor Morland, she had not expected this . . . never for a moment!

  Oh, poor Morland! It was so strange to see him in these dismal surroundings; it was so strange to see him here that she could scarcely believe he was real. There he sat in his immaculate brown-worsted lounge-suit, his trousers creased and pulled up a little showing the crimson silk socks which exactly matched the crimson silk tie. He looked as if he ought to be walking down Regent Street instead of sitting in the Black Bull Inn in Looking-Glass Country, where everything was the other way round.

  The puzzling thing was that he had been part of Julia’s life for so long and she knew him so well! Yet now she felt as if she were seeing him for the first time. She knew every cadence of his voice; every gesture was familiar to her; she could smell the faint scent of the soap he always used for shaving. Why, even that suit he was wearing! She had been with him when he chose the material and had waited for him while he went away with the tailor—a short red-faced man with a tape-measure round his neck—to be measured.

  All this passed through Julia’s mind as she listened to him saying over and over again that it was all a mistake, it was just a misunderstanding and he should have been more patient; saying that they loved each other and there was no need to wait any longer, they could be married quite soon; saying that they would look for a nice flat; his mother had promised to help them to find one. . . .

  Oh, poor Morland! Julia had never felt so sorry for anyone before.

  ‘No, Morland, I’m frightfully sorry,’ said Julia. She said it several times. She said it whenever he paused for breath. ‘I’m frightfully sorry, Morland. I had no idea that you felt like this. No, Morland, I can’t marry you—really I can’t.’

  ‘But we love each other!’

  ‘No, really. It isn’t any use.’

  ‘You’ve changed, Julia.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘What do you mean? We were engaged for months! We were everything to each other!’

  ‘I don’t think I ever loved you. I thought I did, of course, but——’

  ‘Of course you loved me!’

  ‘No, Morland,’ said Julia desperately.

  ‘You did love me! I know you did! You’ve changed.’

  ‘No, I haven’t changed. I like you very much but—but I don’t love you. It was all a mistake. I knew that, when you said there was no prospect of happiness for us——’

  ‘But I didn’t mean that!’ he exclaimed. ‘I didn’t mean we shouldn’t be married. I was never so surprised in my life as I was when you held out the ring and told me to take it. I didn’t mean that at all. I only meant——’

  ‘But I did,’ she declared. ‘I saw then that you were right; there was no prospect of happiness for us in marriage. There isn’t really, Morland. I’m not the sort of wife you want.’

  ‘Surely I’m the best judge of that!’

  ‘No, honestly. You want someone who will always do exactly as you say. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t really. I’m not that kind of person.’

  He was silent for a few moments and then he said angrily, ‘There’s only one explanation, of course. You’ve met someone else.’

  Julia hesitated. She had been wondering how to break off this frightful conversation. Could she tell a lie and invent ‘someone else’? There seemed no other way to convince Morland that she could
not and would not marry him. That would convince him. He would see then that it was hopeless and the interview would come to an end . . . and it would save Morland’s face. She wanted to save his face; she was so sorry for him. There was something quite dreadful in a humiliated Morland. If he could go home and say she had ‘met someone else’ it would be much less humiliating than if he were obliged to slink home, defeated, because she found the thought of him as a husband intolerable. All this flashed through Julia’s mind in a moment . . . if only she could say she had ‘met someone else,’ or not say anything at all and let him think it! But Julia could not bring herself to deceive him.

  ‘No, Morland, you’re mistaken, absolutely mistaken——’ she began.

  But it was too late. She had hesitated and he drew the obvious conclusion.

  ‘So that’s what it is!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t tell me at the beginning; it would have saved a lot of trouble! Now I understand the whole thing!’

  ‘You don’t understand anything at all!’ cried Julia.

  ‘I understand the whole thing,’ he repeated furiously. ‘I can only hope that the fellow—whoever he may be—can afford to support you in comfort, because you won’t get a penny from your father. He told me himself with his own lips that unless you came home immediately and behaved yourself he would have nothing more to do with you.’

  They had both risen from their chairs in the heat of the argument; Morland had said his say; Julia was too angry and upset to speak. It was at this moment—a somewhat unfortunate moment—that the door opened and Neil came in.

  ‘Hallo, Julia!’ he said. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you must have finished the palaver. I’ve been waiting for ages . . . but it doesn’t matter. I can go back to the bar if you haven’t finished.’

  ‘I think—we’ve—finished,’ said Julia, putting out her hand and seizing hold of the back of a chair.