Honey

by Mary Burchell

ny jilting!" exclaimed Honey angrily. "It's ... it's not my idea of nice behavior at all." ; "But think of it," he urged her teasingly. "You will not only appear as the girl who tamed the monster to the point of an engagement. You will even have rejected him as not good enough, on further consideration." . "Dr. Anston, that isn't funny." Honey's voice actually trembled. "I'm not that type of girl at all. This ridiculous business started as a silly kind of masquerade, I know, but at least it was designed to help you out of what you represented as a dilemma. I don't 95 want to be cast in the role of some sort of heartless and cynical flirt. I'm very unhappy about my position as it is. And you're not being particularly k-kind about it." She bit her lip hard, because excitement and nervousness were bringing her very near tears. "My dear Honey," his voice altered, and he drew her arm through his in a way that was curiously consoling and steadying, "I apologize. Tell me what you ^ really want me to do, in the changed circumstances, and I'll do it." "I don't really know what to suggest," Honey said unhappily. "Do you want to go on with the engagement indefinitely?" "No. Of course not!" "No, no. I meant, rather, for the length of time originally planned," Dr. Anston explained soothingly. "That would bring you to the end of your training here, at St. Margaret's. Then you could leave, as you always intended, still as my fiancee, and start at a new hospital or in private nursingwithout any embarrassing restrictions. That was the original idea, if you remember." "But" Honey glanced anxiously from under her gold-tipped lashes, "that means months as your fiancee, with Deborah and my mother pressing all the time for us to fix the date of the wedding and make all the preparations." "Yes," he agreed, "I'm afraid it does. But can't you cope with that? It's only a question of keeping your own counsel and more or less ignoring what is happening around you." "But, Dr. Anston" she was aghast at so clear a 96 description of the position, "I couldn't live like that! You may be able to, but I can't. I'm part of an intimate and loving home circle. I couldn't go home on weekends and have my mother making happy arrangements and holding long-distance phone calls with Deborah, while I smiled and pretended and knew all the time that the whole thing was one gigantic fraud." "You would have had to do something of the sort under the original plan," he reminded her. "Oh no! Left to myself, I could have kept everything on a much quieter and slower basis. Now that your sister has invaded my home scene and swept my mother into her whirl of planning, it's all taken on quite a different complexion." "But that too was a possibility under the original plan," he said. "Hadn't you reckoned with it?" For a long moment Honey was silent. Then, with a lone tear splashing onto each cheek, she said unsteadily, "I guessI'm notthe right sort of girl for this job." "I guess," he agreed thoughtfully, "you're not." And, unexpectedly, he bent his head and softly kissed. the side of her cheek. "I'm sorry. The mistake was mine. I admit I had quite a lot of wrong ideas about you, Honey, before I got to know you better." "I hada fewabout you," Honey admitted generously. He laughed at that, but said in a businesslike tone, "Well then, let's settle this affair on a friendly basis. It's simply a question of deciding the best point at which to break the engagement. We could, of course, do it at once, and thereby cut our way through all complications." 97 But Honey thought this would be too sensational. "The engagement is still a nine days' wonder in the hospital," she said soberly. "To break it at this point would make us both look too frivolous and idiotic for words. I think we'd better go on until your sister returns to the States. But please play the whole thing down as much as possible, will you? And I will do the same at home." "I'll do my best." John promised gravely, and with such friendly docility that somehow Honey suddenly remembered that this was, after all, the most distinguished surgeon at St. Margaret's who was taking her orders. "And I will go to London, if you think that's best," she said, feeling that some concession on her part was called for. "I really do," he assured her. "Deborah opposed is capable of almost anything. She adores removing obstacles. If we appear to go on quietly following her plans there will be no need for argument or awkward discussion. Then when she has left England once more, you and I can break things up as discreetly and unembarrassingly as possible." "There'll be a whole lot of explanations due when she returns," Honey could not help reminding him. "But those, my dear Honey, will be my affair," he replied calmly. "You need not know anything about them. You need not even see Deborah again unless you wish." "I suppose not," agreed Honey and was immediately assailed by a sort of melancholy curiosity. She would be sorry to be so far removed from Dr. Anston's affairs that she must not even inquire about anything so vitally interesting to herself. 98 "Then it's "settled?" They had reached the side entrance to the nurses' residence by now, and he paused, smiling down at her from his considerable height. "Yes. It's settled. I'll take my leave toward the end of next week, if I can, and Mother and I will go to London." "Good girl." "You'll make a point of being there, won't you?" she exclaimed, suddenly frightened at the idea of possibly being abandoned to the busy plans of her mother and Deborah, not to mention a host of unknown Anston friends. "Of course," he promised soothingly. "That's the whole purpose of the trip, you know, that you and I should be seen together. Don't worry. I'll look after you." And so powerful was the spell of his smiling, halfmocking assurance that Honey went away thinking almost entirely of his final words, and hardly at all about the further complication to which she had now committed herself. Several of her fellow nurses had, of course, seen her in company with her parents and Dr. Anston. However much they might have been taken up with their own families and visitors, they had spared more than a glanceand probably more than a word of explanationfor the nurse who was to marry their most famous surgeon. "You looked rather good together, Milward," someone said. And, "It was plain for anyone to see how devoted he is," added the sentimental Morgan. "Who were the two ladies with him and your parents?" 99 Honey explained about Madame Seroni and Dr. Anston's sister, and everyone seemed to think they were a distinct addition to the situation. "I heard one of them call you 'dear,' " remarked Peters, who had somehow got near enough in the tea tent to pick up this interesting detail. "Would that be the sister? And how does she like the match?" With difficulty Honey kept herself from saying, "All too well." "She seems very happy about it," Honey explained sedately. And then, perhaps to satisfy Peters's thirst for knowledge, or perhaps because the subject had a certain strange fascination for herself, she added. "Mother and I are going to London next week, -if I can get my few days' leave then. We're to stay at the Gloria as Mrs. Naylor's guests." Peters whistled at this, for the Gloria, of course, is known to all as that palace of a hotel where one may sit in the immense lounge and expect to see anyone, from an archbishop to a prima donna, pass bv. "Lucky you!" sighed Morgan. "My! How your life has changed in the past few weeks, Milward." Honey said with feeling that indeed it had. And then, fortunately, it was time for most of them to go on duty. During the next few days Honey tried to accustom herself to the fresh development in herlife. She had, without too much difficulty, accepted the idea of a more or less theoretical engagement to Dr. Anston. She had even become used to having her fellow nurses look at her a little differently because of it. But now she was to emerge onto a much wider stage, as 'it were, and play her part before a much more exacting audience. Dr. Anston had said he would look after her and, in 100 . a wav, she was sure he would. That had seemed all right on the day of the garden party. But now, the more she thought about that trip to London, the more it seemed to her that some fearful new development was almost bound to arise. The gesture appeared to her at this point to have been altogether too bold, and she wished she could recall it. But this would be impossible without seeming to let Dr. Anston down. She saw little of him during this time, except in the operating room. And there, even now, he was the impersonal, remote Dr. Anston, to be treated as the god of his particular domain and not at all as a fiance to whom one could take one's foolish fears and objections. Before he himself returned to London, however, he did contrive to see her for a few minutes' private conversation, in between spells of duty. "I won't b
e down here at all in the first half of next week. Honey," he explained. "Let me know when you expect to be in London, won't you?" "It's already settled," she told him. "I shall come off duty on Wednesday at lunchtime, and Mother will pick me up here. That means we shall be in London some time on Wednesday evening. Mother has written to your ... to Deborah to tell her." "Fine. Which train will you take? I'll meet you at the other end." But Honey said that there was too much doubt about the actual hour other release. It would be better for them to go straight to the Gloria on their arrival, and then either they or Deborah would telephone him from there. "Very well. Lookafter yourself and don't be nerv^ ' 101 ous about the visit. Nothing dreadful is going to happen," he assured her lightheartediy. "All you have to do is to relax, and be ready to enjoy a certain amount of gaiety without worrying too much about the situation that has prompted it." Then he kissed her lightly, although there was no one in sight who needed to be impressed with the authenticity of their relationship. He went away. leaving Honey with the conviction that she now knew exactly how it was that he managed to make his patients believe they had nothing to fear once they were in his hands. This feeling persisted, though with diminishing intensity, until the day other departure for London. . In spite of any inner misgivings. Honey could not, of course, feel anything but thrilled and excited when she finally emerged from the residence into the bright sunshine of a perfect summer's day, to find both her parents waiting for her in the family car. "Daddy managed to get away from the office for an hour or two, so he's driving us to the junction." Mrs. Milward explained as she kissed her daughter. "That makes it possible for us to catch the earlier train." Honey beamed at her father and climbed into the back of the car. At which her mother turned sideways and studied her in a contented way. . "That particular shade of yellow is extraordinarily becoming. Honey dear," she said reflectively. "I think you should have ivory, or even perhaps parchment color for your wedding dress. Not dead white. Certainly not dead white. What do you think, James?" Mr. Milward said he was sure Honey would look pretty in anything. A maddening statement that was partly due to parental prejudice and partly to a cow102 ardly desire to avoid committing himself to an opinion his wife would almost certainly challenge. "Your mother has the checkbook. Honey," he explained, with the air of being a willing victim on the altar of his womenfolk's extravagance. "And she has permission to use it to the limit. So see that you get what you really want." "Oh, Daddy!" Honey leaned forward and patted his shoulder almost tearfully, for she was overcome by a confused feeling that she was little better than someone who stole her poor old parents' savings in order to advance a career of deceit. "I ... I don't expect I shall want anything much on this trip. It's too early yet to do much shopping." "Your mother seems to think otherwise," replied Mr. Milward, who, like most husbands and fathers, preferred to refer to his wife as "your mother" whenever strictly feminine interests were under discussion. "Well, we'll see," declared Mrs. Milward, with an air of brisk cheerfulness. And then they drove the rest of the way to the junction, with Honey sitting back and hoping that her mother and Deborah Naylor between them would not reduce her father to actual penury.After affectionate goodbyes at the station. Honey felt still less inclined to spend her father's money under false pretences. But, comfortably installed with Honey in an otherwise empty compartment, Mrs. Milward launched into contented planning for a shopping spree, on a scale that greatly alarmed Honey. "But, Mother," she repeated anxiously, "I don't want to do much shopping on this trip. It's much too early, as I said to Daddy." "Not if you're going to be married in October, my 103 dear," was the almost absent reply her mother made.' "But who says I am going to be married in October?" Honey looked taken aback. "It's the obvious choice, isn't it? You aren't planning on a winter wedding, surely?" "No, indeed," said Honey emphatically. For winter loomed menacingly near when her mother put it like that. "And I can't imagine that either of you would want to wait until next spring?" "We might," Honey set her soft mouth in an unexpectedly obstinate line. "There's no need to rush things like this. Mother." "Darling, no one is trying to rush you at all!" Mrs. Milward sounded rather indignant at the choice of word. "But, when two people are as sure of their feelings as you and John are...." Where did Mother gel that idea? thought Honey, annoyed. "... there isn't any need to wait too long. I can't say that I see the point of your going on wearing yourself out at the hospital, when you are really going to marry John." "I'm not wearing myself out," protested Honey indignantly, for none of us like to be described in this somewhat dreary phrase. "But I naturally want to complete my training," she added, snatching hastily at this form of protection. "Oh, but. Honeywhy?" "Because I don't believe in leaving things unfin- . ished," Honey said, with increased firmness. "And, besides, if you're a trained nurse, you always have a profession at your fingertips and a way of earning a living ifif anything happens." 104 "If what happens?" "Oh, just anything," Honey said feebly. "I don't understand you. As John's wife, you'll hardly need a profession, or a way of earning a living." "One never knows," stated Honey. At that her mother opened her eyes wide in astonishmentperhaps understandably, since the only contingencies which Honey could possibly be referring to were wid.owhood or separation. Neither of them were very appropriate subjects on which to linger, when going to choose one's trousseau. "Well, my dear, of course it's for you to decide," conceded Mrs. Milward, evidently abandoning the idea of the October wedding with regret. "But talk things over with John, and remember there are his wishes to be consulted too. He doesn't strike me as at all the kind of man who would want to postpone his wedding for the sake of nursing certificates, once he had found the girl of his heart." This romantic view of Dr. Anston faintly intrigued Honey, and she spent some time after that looking out of the window of the train and wondering just what Dr. Anston would be like if he really were in love with someone. It was still no more than late afternoon when they arrived in London. Warm sunshine was alternating with cool shade in the park, as they drove to the Gloria. Here, rooms were engaged for them next to Mrs. Naylor's suite, and the desk clerk informed them that Mrs. Naylor herself was in the lounge, having tea with a friend, if they wished to speak to her before going to their rooms. 105 "Yes, I think we will," Mrs. Milward said. Even as she turned to look for Deborah, she came hurrying toward them with almost literally open arms. "My dears, I'm so glad to see you!" This was so palpably true that Honey had another moment of acute remorse for the falseness other position. "Come and join us for tea." Mrs. Milward said they would not interrupt a tete-atete between friends. But Deborah exclaimed, "Nonsense! Millicent Eldon arrived from New York only a few days ago, and she's longing to meet you. You'll like her immensely." Like most of us on being assured of such a state of affairs. Honey decided perversely that she would not. And, in any case, the name struck an uneasy chord in her memory. But she naturally bowed to necessity and followed her mother and Deborah Naylor across the lounge. As she did so, she remembered. Millicent was the name of the girl Deborah had once thought of as such a suitable wife for Dr. Anston. This fact immediately imparted to her a distinct, though inexplicably unwelcome, significance. Honey felt an odd resentment stirring in her heart as Millicent Eldon's cool fingers touched hers, and she realized that this was quite one of the most beautiful girls she had ever seen. Not that "girl" was a word one would instinctively apply to Millicent Eldon. She was probably no more than 26 or 27, but her poise and charming air of sophisticated elegance were attributes that one usually associated with someone a good deal older. She was perfectly agreeable to Honey, while Mrs. Milward and Deborah exchanged a few words about 106 the evening's arrangements. But suddenly Honey felt young and extraordinarily insecure. Millicent Eldon intimidated her far more than the palatial surroundings of the Gloria could do, and she heard her usual easy flow of friendly talk dry up to a trickle of conventional and uninspiring platitudes. "John told me quite a lot about you," the other girl said carelessly. And immediately Honey found herself wondering just what he had said about her, and how this girl had
managed to get on such terms of intimacy with him in a matter of a few days. To her annoyance, she could think of nothing to say but "Did he?" And she knew, almost as though it had been put into words, that Millicent Eldon was wondering what on earth the brilliant John Anston had seen in this inarticulate young nobody. Fortunately, as soon as tea was over. Honey and her mother were wafted up to their own rooms on the second floor, while Deborah undertook to telephone her brother and let him know that their visitors had arrived somewhat sooner than they had expected. Honey and her mother discovered that they had very pleasant rooms, with a communicating door, overlooking the park. And, as soon as they were left alone, Mrs. Milward came into Honey's room and said. "So that was the girl Deborah thought of for John's wife. What an extraordinary idea!" "Oh, Mother, why? She's very good-looking and charming," Honey felt bound to point out. Though, in reality, her mother's disparaging air did much for her own amour propre. "But she isn't at all John's type. I'm not surprised that he chose you in preference." "Not exactly in preference," Honey reminded her 107 mother with a smile. "He hadn't seen her when he chose me." "Then he must have congratulated himself when he did," retorted Mrs. Milward complacently. "She has* been here a day or two now so he has had time to see what a lucky escape he has had." "I don't expect he thinks of it that way at all." Honey spoke with an obstinacy that she could not quite explain even to herself. "And anyway. Mother dear, I don't know how you can be quite so sure about John's taste. You don't really know him all that well, do you?" "But you're his taste, darling!" Her mother looked surprised. "And you and this girl could hardly be more different." "That's true, of course," Honey agreed soberly. "Not that I'm criticizing her," said Mrs. Milward somewhat belatedly and not especially truthfully. "I'm sure she is a very charming creature and would make an excellent wife for a certain type of man. But not John." Honey had no answer to this. Mostly because the oddly depressing thought had come to her that possibly Millicent Eldon would make an excellent wife for a busy and famous surgeon. She would be admirable as a hostess, a genuine social asset to any man, and she would be quite unruffled by any unusual circumstance that might arise. Possibly her silence struck her mother as not entirely happy, because Mrs. Milward said cheerfully, after a moment, "Well, this is quite an academic discussion, in any case, isn't it? Dear John has given us the clearest proof of his taste, in asking you to marry him. And it isn't only maternal prejudice that makes 108 me think his taste is excellent! You are lovely, you know." And, laughing a little, she went back into her own room and began to unpack. For a few minutes longer Honey stood by the window, looking out across the "park and wondering, though without her mother's pleasant peace of mind, just what Dr. Anston's taste really was. Soon she too began to unpack. But she had not got very far with this when the telephone rang, and one of the clerks at the reception desk informed her that Dr. Anston was waiting downstairs and would be happy to see her whenever she was ready. "Tell him I won't be moce than ten minutes," Honey said quickly, and then she went to tell her mother that John was waiting for them. "Not for us, darling," said her mother indulgently. "Just for you, I imagine. I'm sure he can wait a little longer before seeing me. You go down to him. I'll finish the unpacking. And wear your brown dress, Honey. It does things for you." So, sustained by the leaf-brown cocktail dress that "did things for her," and some attractive chunky gold costume jewelry that Miss Emms had once characterized as too daring. Honey went away to join Dr. Anston. It was the time of evening when there was a great deal of coming and going, and even the elevators at the Gloria were not quite equal to the demand. For some minutes Honey stood there, watching crowded elevators pass her by. Then, recalling that she had only two flights of stairs to descend, she went down by the wide, curving staircase, that led straight into the huge, thickly carpeted lounge. 109 On the last few steps she paused, surveying the crowded scene, with a pleasure only tinged with nervousness. Deborah was nowhere./in sight, and for a moment she could not pick out Dr. Anston either. And then she saw him standing not so very far away from the foot of the staircase. He should, of course, have been looking eagerly for her arrival, either from one of the elevators, or from the stairs. But he was doing nothing of the sort. Instead, he was standing there, laughing down rather challengingly at Millicent Eldon. And, even as Honey watched, with suddenly widened eyes, she saw MiSlicent lean forward-and pick an imaginary thread from the lapel of Dr. Anston's dinner jacket, with a teasing, proprietorial little gesture used only between people who are very, very good friends. 1 10