CHAPTER XXIV
THE WAY OF THE WOMAN
Wolfenden had been shown, as he supposed, into an empty room by theservant of whom he had inquired for Mr. Sabin. But the door was scarcelyclosed before a familiar sound from a distant corner warned him that hewas not alone. He stopped short and looked fixedly at the slight,feminine figure whose white fingers were flashing over the keyboard of atypewriter. There was something very familiar about the curve of herneck and the waving of her brown hair; her back was to him, and she didnot turn round.
"Do leave me some cigarettes," she said, without lifting her head. "Thisis frightfully monotonous work. How much more of it is there for me todo?"
"I really don't know," Wolfenden answered hesitatingly. "Why, Blanche!"
She swung round in her chair and gazed at him in blank amazement; shewas, at least, as much surprised as he was.
"Lord Wolfenden!" she exclaimed; "why, what are you doing here?"
"I might ask you," he said gravely, "the same question."
She stood up.
"You have not come to see me?"
He shook his head.
"I had not the least idea that you were here," he assured her.
Her face hardened.
"Of course not. I was an idiot to imagine that you would care enough tocome, even if you had known."
"I do not know," he remarked, "why you should say that. On thecontrary----"
She interrupted him.
"Oh! I know what you are going to say. I ran away from Mrs. Selby's nicerooms, and never thanked you for your kindness. I didn't even leave amessage for you, did I? Well, never mind; you know why, I daresay."
Wolfenden thought that he did, but he evaded a direct answer.
"What I cannot understand," he said, "is why you are here."
"It is my new situation," she answered. "I was bound to look for one,you know. There is nothing strange about it. I advertised for asituation, and I got this one."
He was silent. There were things in connection with this which hescarcely understood. She watched him with a mocking smile parting herlips.
"It is a good deal harder to understand," she said, "why you are here.This is the very last house in the world in which I should have thoughtof seeing you."
"Why?" he asked quickly.
She shrugged her shoulders; her speech had been scarcely a discreet one.
"I should not have imagined," she said, "that Mr. Sabin would have comewithin the circle of your friends."
"I do not know why he should not," Wolfenden said. "I consider him avery interesting man."
She smiled upon him.
"Yes, he is interesting," she said; "only I should not have thought thatyour tastes were at all identical."
"You seem to know a good deal about him," Wolfenden remarked quietly.
For a moment an odd light gleamed in her eyes; she was very pale.Wolfenden moved towards her.
"Blanche," he said, "has anything gone wrong with you? You don't lookwell."
She withdrew her hands from her face.
"There is nothing wrong with me," she said. "Hush! he is coming."
She swung round in her seat, and the quick clicking of the instrumentwas resumed as her fingers flew over it. The door opened, and Mr. Sabinentered. He leaned on his stick, standing on the threshold, and glancedkeenly at both of them.
"My dear Lord Wolfenden," he said apologetically, "this is the worst ofhaving country servants. Fancy showing you in here. Come and join us inthe other room; we are just going to have our coffee."
Wolfenden followed him with alacrity; they crossed the little hall andentered the dining-room. Helene was still sitting there sipping hercoffee in an easy chair. She welcomed him with outstretched hand and abrilliantly soft smile. Mr. Sabin, who was watching her closely,appreciated, perhaps for the first time, her rare womanly beauty, apartfrom its distinctly patrician qualities. There was a change, and he wasnot the man to be blind to it or to under-rate its significance. He feltthat on the eve of victory he had another and an unexpected battle tofight; yet he held himself like a brave man and one used to reverses,for he showed no signs of dismay.
"I want you to try a glass of this claret, Lord Wolfenden," he said,"before you begin your coffee. I know that you are a judge, and I amrather proud of it. You are not going away, Helene?"
"I had no idea of going," she laughed. "This is really the onlyhabitable room in the house, and I am not going to let Lord Wolfendensend me to shiver in what we call the drawing-room."
"I should be very sorry if you thought of such a thing," Wolfendenanswered.
"If you will excuse me for a moment," Mr. Sabin said, "I will unpacksome cigarettes. Helene, will you see that Lord Wolfenden has whichliqueur he prefers?"
He limped away, and Helene watched him leave the room with somesurprise. These were tactics which she did not understand. Was healready making up his mind that the game could be played without her?She was puzzled--a little uneasy.
She turned to find Wolfenden's admiring eyes fixed upon her; she lookedat him with a smile, half-sad, half-humorous.
"Let me remember," she said, "I am to see that you have--what was it?Oh! liqueurs. We haven't much choice; you will find Kummel andChartreuse on the sideboard, and Benedictine, which my uncle hates, bythe bye, at your elbow."
"No liqueurs, thanks," he said. "I wonder, did you expect me to-night? Idon't think that I ought to have come, ought I?"
"Well, you certainly show," she answered with a smile, "a remarkabledisregard for all precedents and conventions. You ought to be already onyour way to foreign parts with your guns and servants. It is Englishmen,is it not, who go always to the Rocky Mountains to shoot bears whentheir love affairs go wrong?"
He was watching her closely, and he saw that she was less at her easethan she would have had him believe. He saw, too, or fancied that hesaw, a softening in her face, a kindliness gleaming out of her lustrouseyes which suggested new things to him.
"The Rocky Mountains," he said slowly, "mean despair. A man does not goso far whilst he has hope."
She did not answer him; he gathered courage from her silence.
"Perhaps," he said, "I might now have been on my way there but for asomewhat sanguine disposition--a very strong determination, and," headded more softly, "a very intense love."
"It takes," she remarked, "a very great deal to discourage anEnglishman."
"Speaking for myself," he answered, "I defy discouragement; I am proofagainst it. I love you so dearly, Helene, that I simply decline to giveyou up; I warn you that I am not a lover to be shaken off."
His voice was very tender; his words sounded to her simple but strong.He was so sure of himself and his love. Truly, she thought, for anEnglishman this was no indifferent wooer; his confidence thrilled her;she felt her heart beat quickly under its sheath of drooping black laceand roses.
"I am giving you," she said quietly, "no hope. Remember that; but I donot want you to go away."
The hope which her tongue so steadfastly refused to speak he gatheredfrom her eyes, her face, from that indefinable softening which seems topervade at the moment of yielding a woman's very personality. He waswonderfully happy, although he had the wit to keep it to himself.
"You need not fear," he whispered, "I shall not go away."
Outside they heard the sound of Mr. Sabin's stick. She leaned overtowards him.
"I want you," she said, "to--kiss me."
His heart gave a great leap, but he controlled himself. Intuitively heknew how much was permitted to him; he seemed to have even some faintperception of the cause for her strange request. He bent over and tookher face for a moment between his hands; her lips touched his--she hadkissed him!
He stood away from her, breathless with the excitement of the moment.The perfume of her hair, the soft touch of her lips, the gentle movementwith which she had thrust him away, these things were like the drinkingof strong wine to him. Her own cheeks were scarlet; outside the sound ofMr. Sabin's s
tick grew more and more distinct; she smoothed her hair andlaughed softly up at him.
"At least," she murmured, "there is that to remember always."
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