‘What else did May tell you?’ asked Julia. ‘You see, Stephen, I’ve sort of got into the habit of telling May everything because she’s so cosy.’
‘Yes, she is cosy . . . and this is cosy,’ said Stephen, drawing her closer. ‘I’m a bit tired for some reason or other and I’m not quite sure if I’m awake or dreaming. I suppose we really are engaged all right?’
‘Engaged!’ cried Julia, sitting up and looking at him indignantly. ‘Of course we’re engaged! You don’t suppose I’d have let you kiss me like that—’
‘No, of course not,’ said Stephen hastily. ‘It just seemed too good to be true. I’ve been driving for hours and hours,’ he added pathetically. ‘You get a bit dazed when you drive for hours and hours.’
‘Oh, darling, it was marvellous of you to come so quickly.’
‘Seven hours,’ said Stephen. ‘Not bad going for nearly three sixty miles—and stinking bad weather most of the way.’
‘Wonderful!’ said Julia, admiringly. ‘Tell me about it, Stephen.’
*
3
Stephen had just begun to describe some of the adventures he had met with during the night when there was a very discreet knock upon the door. Julia and Stephen immediately sprang apart and took up their positions at opposite ends of the sofa.
‘Come in!’ cried Julia.
The door opened slowly and Maggie’s head appeared. This behaviour was so unlike Maggie’s usual method of entry that Julia was surprised.
‘Come in,’ she repeated, rising and smiling at Maggie. ‘This is Mr. Brett; he has come all the way from London to see me. Stephen, this is Mrs. Walker.’
‘How do you do, Mrs. Walker,’ said Stephen, shaking hands cordially. ‘Julia told me so much about you in her letters that I feel I know you quite well.’
Perfect Stephen! thought Julia, looking on with shining eyes. Absolutely perfect! If he had said, ‘Miss Harburn told me . . .’ it would have been wrong; if he had not shaken hands with her it would have been frightful. How did he know how to behave in Looking-Glass Country?
‘Tell her, Stephen,’ said Julia.
Stephen laughed delightedly. He said, ‘Mrs. Walker, prepare yourself for a shock. Julia and I are engaged to be married.’
‘Well, I never!’ exclaimed Maggie, trying her best to look surprised.
‘You’re the first person to know,’ declared Julia. ‘You’re the very first. Nobody else has any idea of it.’
It was true that Maggie had been one of the first to know, but it was very far from the truth that nobody else had any idea of it.
‘Well, it’s nice that you’ve told me,’ said Maggie with most unusual tact. ‘I’m sure I wish you every good wish; health and joy and a long life together. Nobody could say more than that.’
They both agreed that nobody could possibly say more than that, and shook her hand warmly. Julia would have liked to kiss her nice rosy cheek but, being uncertain as to whether this would be considered the right thing, she refrained.
Now that Maggie had said her little speech, which had been prepared most carefully beforehand, she went on to matters of immediate importance.
‘Will Mr. Brett be staying, Miss Julia?’ she inquired.
‘I could easily put up at the hotel—’ began Stephen.
‘There’s no need for that,’ declared Maggie. ‘Where’s the sense of spending good money at the Harburn Arms? They’re just robbers at yon place. It’s for you to say, Miss Julia.’
‘You mean he could stay here?’
Maggie nodded. ‘He could sleep in his room and air his new bed for him—that’s what I was thinking. It might be a bit cold and damp, you see. I’ve had hot-water bottles in it, of course, and I’ll go on putting them, but there’s nothing like a body for warming up a bed and we’re not wanting him to take cold.’
Julia was giggling, so she could not reply; but Stephen, though confused by all the pronouns, had understood enough to realise that he was being invited by Mrs. Walker to stay at The Square House; he would willingly have slept in the coal cellar for the pleasure of sleeping under the same roof as Julia, so he accepted with alacrity.
‘I never catch cold,’ he declared. ‘So if it won’t be a bother——’
‘It’s not you, it’s him, Mr. Brett,’ said Maggie. ‘And it’ll be no trouble at all, for the kitchen is thronged with folk and one of them can give me a hand with sorting the room and laying the sheets.’
‘I didn’t know you were having a party, Maggie!’ Julia exclaimed.
‘Nor me, neether,’ declared Maggie, grimly. ‘But there’s some folks that likes to poke their noses into everything.’
‘Perhaps we had better go to the Harburn Arms for lunch,’ said Julia, who had suddenly remembered the small piece of meat which she herself had procured yesterday from Butcher—Wilson.
‘There’s enough to eat, Miss Julia—that’s to say if Mr. Brett can take curry and apple-pie—and you’ll be more private.’
Mr. Brett declared emphatically that curry and apple-pie and privacy were what he would like better than anything in the whole wide world.
This was an extravagant way of talking (quite daft in Maggie’s opinion); but of course it was only natural that Mr. Brett should be a bit above himself, so Maggie forgave him and smiled and went away, closing the door very carefully behind her.
*
4
‘What a pet!’ exclaimed Stephen.
‘Yes, isn’t she?’
‘But you said in your letter that it was difficult to understand what she said.’
‘So it is—sometimes. If you could hear them now, all talking together in the kitchen, you wouldn’t understand a word. I wonder why she’s having a party,’ added Julia thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps it’s her birthday or something.’
Stephen was not interested in Mrs. Walker’s party—birthday or otherwise—so he drew Julia down beside him on the sofa. ‘Now we must be sensible,’ he said. ‘I’ve got such a lot to tell you . . . but first of all let’s decide when we’re going to be married. This is Scotland, of course, so we could be married to-morrow at Gretna Green.’
‘To-morrow at Gretna Green!’ echoed Julia in alarm. ‘No we couldn’t possibly. For one thing I can’t leave Uncle Ran until he’s quite fit and strong and comfortably settled at home, and for another thing I don’t believe you can be married at Gretna Green all of a sudden like that. But anyhow that doesn’t matter. It’s Uncle Ran that matters. I can’t leave Uncle Ran. . . . Oh, Stephen!’ she exclaimed, sitting up and looking at him in dismay. ‘Oh, Stephen! I don’t think I shall be able to marry you after all!’
‘What do you mean?’ gasped Stephen.
‘Because I can’t go out to Africa with you, that’s why. I simply couldn’t go so far away——’
‘But I’ve decided not to go back to Africa—I was going to tell you that. You see, Father is getting old and Mother isn’t as strong as she might be, so I shall have to try to get a job near home.’
‘Good,’ said Julia. ‘That’s lovely because I don’t want to be too far away from Uncle Ran.’
‘We’ll be together!’ exclaimed Stephen, suddenly struck all of a heap at this amazing fact.
‘Well, of course we’ll be together, darling Stephen. We’re going to be married, aren’t we?’
‘We’re going to be married,’ said Stephen fatuously. ‘We’re going to be married. We’re going to be together all our lives.’
There was a slight pause in the conversation.
‘Do be sensible, Stephen,’ said Julia at last.
‘Yes, we must be sensible,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s see now. There’s the sapphire, of course. I must have it set in a ring.’
‘Yes, of course,’ agreed Julia, and so saying she pulled the black ribbon and produced the sapphire from its hiding place. ‘There it is, safe and sound,’ she added, smiling at him fondly.
‘Do you mean it’s been there—all the time?’
‘All the time,’ nod
ded Julia. ‘It’s so valuable, you see, and it seemed safer to wear it all the time; besides, I love it. I love it because it “feels the influence of the air and sympathises with the heavens and does not shine equally if the sky be cloudy or bright.” It’s perfectly true, Stephen. The dear darling sapphire likes sunshine and blue skies.’
‘You’ve been wearing it all the time,’ said Stephen in a dazed voice.
Julia looked at him in surprise. ‘I’ve told you——’
‘I know,’ said Stephen. ‘It’s just so—so amazing. I can’t help wondering if it really has magical properties.’
‘Magical properties?’
‘Yes, but we must be sensible. Listen, Julia, I want to get it properly set in platinum for you (the setting is very important indeed, so it can’t be done in a hurry). Meanwhile you must have a ring immediately, so that any stray male who comes your way will realise that you’re booked good and proper.’
Julia giggled.
Stephen had always adored her silly little giggle and the dimples which it displayed, and now he discovered that it was a hundred times more adorable than he remembered. In fact it gave him quite a severe pain in the region of his heart—so he was obliged to kiss her again several times.
‘I thought we were going to be sensible,’ she said.
‘Yes—well—I’ll show you,’ said Stephen, and with that he produced a ring from his pocket and slipped it onto her finger. It was a little gold ring, rather solid and old-fashioned, with a small red stone set in a cluster of diamonds.
‘Oh, Stephen, what a darling ring!’
‘Mother gave it to me for you.’
‘Gave it to you—for me! But how did she know! I mean she couldn’t have known that we were——’
‘She didn’t know,’ explained Stephen. ‘But I think she hoped. You see, one evening when I had been talking about you and—and telling her about you she took out her jewel-case and found the ring and gave it to me. She said that perhaps some day I might need it in a hurry so I had better keep it safely in my pocket.’
‘It was sweet of her,’ Julia declared. ‘I must write and thank her and tell her how much I value it.’
‘Oh, it isn’t valuable. It’s just a garnet and tiny diamonds. Mother has much better rings, but she said they would be too big for you. This ring belonged to my grandmother, so it’s very old-fashioned.’
‘It fits beautifully,’ said Julia, holding out her hand.
‘So it does! How on earth did Mother know the size?’
‘I love it,’ declared Julia, evading the question. She loved it because she loved Stephen and because Stephen’s mother had given it to him for her (which was tremendously important because it meant that Stephen’s mother thought she was good enough for Stephen). She loved it because Stephen’s grandmother had worn it and, last but not least, because it was so delightful and so unusual and fitted so snugly on her finger. ‘Look how nice it is!’ said Julia, displaying it with pride. ‘You know, Stephen, I think if you don’t mind I’d like to have this as an engagement ring.’
‘Not the sapphire?’ The tone was slightly disappointed.
‘Of course I want the sapphire! But it would be too grand and beautiful to wear all the time. I want an engagement ring that I can wear night and day, always, all the time. You see that, don’t you?’
Thus explained, Stephen saw it at once.
‘There’s another thing I want to talk to you about,’ he continued. ‘It’s important, so listen carefully, Julia. When we’re married I don’t want you to say “obey.” I’m told that nowadays you can have a different kind of service.’
‘But I don’t mind——’ she began.
‘I do,’ he declared emphatically. ‘We’re going to be equal partners to discuss things and decide everything together. That’s my idea of marriage.’
‘Are you sure it wasn’t May’s idea?’ asked Julia, sitting up and looking at him anxiously.
‘No, it’s my idea,’ he replied.
This was perfectly true, of course. It was Stephen’s own idea . . . and, although it had been inspired by May Martineau’s disclosures, there was no necessity to mention the fact. May Martineau’s information had been very interesting indeed—and very helpful—but it had been given in strict confidence, so even if Stephen had wanted to tell Julia what she had said he could not have done so without breaking his promise. Stephen could almost see Miss Martineau sitting in her parlour in the pink plush chair with her plump little feet on the pink plush footstool; he could almost hear her voice as she told him the history of the broken engagement and about Julia’s declaration of independence. ‘But you must promise faithfully that you’ll never, never tell her I told you,’ Miss Martineau had said, wagging her plump little finger at him . . . and of course Stephen had promised.
Miss Martineau had been so kind to him and so encouraging and so delighted at the news that he intended to dash straight off to Scotland that Stephen had kissed her when he came away—and she had been pleased—but he decided not to tell Julia about that either.
It was only afterwards, when he was rushing along the Great North Road, that the Idea had come to Stephen and he had made up his mind that if Julia agreed to marry him he would not allow her to stand before the altar and utter the word ‘obey.’
‘It’s my own idea. It’s my idea of marriage,’ repeated Stephen.
‘It doesn’t seem very important to me,’ said Julia thoughtfully.
‘It’s vitally important to me,’ declared Stephen. ‘I don’t want a slave; I want a partner. Can do?’
‘Can do,’ replied Julia, nodding.
They shook hands on the pact with due solemnity.
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