The Man from Ceylon

by Ruby M. Ayres

  He followed her into the sitting-room. “Going to stay and talk to me? “he asked, and then without waiting for a reply—” Look here and tell me what you think of this! I found it amongst my bits and pieces today—and wondered whether you would care to have it?”

  “You’ve given us so much already,” she reminded him gently.

  “‘Us’,” Monty echoed. “When so far you haven’t had a thing. Paddy collared all the stockings, didn’t she?”

  He moved nearer to her and put something into her hand—

  “What do you think of it?”

  Jessica held the little object nearer to the light.

  “Why—it’s a bracelet, isn’t it?”

  “Yes——”

  Beautifully shaped—but not a complete circle, though at either open end was an outstretched hand— one obviously a man’s and the other a woman’s.

  “They join together when you put it on,” Monty explained, and taking it from her he slipped it round her wrist. “Like it? “he enquired bluntly.

  “I think it’s beautiful—but—it’s gold, isn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Do you think I’d ask you to accept it if it was brass?”

  She looked up at him almost timidly—

  “But if it’s gold—it must be worth a lot of money, and——”

  He interrupted with quiet firmness—

  “I should like you to have it—I bought it from a fellow out East—supposed to be lucky, so he told me —a sign of friendship—the two hands I suppose. Let me show you how it works,” and before she could protest, he had snapped the two hands together.

  “There!… Like it?” he enquired again.

  “Yes—very much, but——”

  “‘But me no buts’,” Monty said with a smile. “And I hope its legend comes true where we are concerned—and that we shall always be the best of friends.”

  “You ate very kind. Will you unfasten it for me? It’s too good to wear every day. I must keep it for best occasions.”

  “I should like you to wear it always.”

  She laughed a little unsteadily.

  “When I am doing the housework and washing up?”

  “Why not? Real friendship can stand any hardships—” and then as she shook her head, “All right— have it your way.” He unsnapped the clasped hands. “There!… but I shall keep a sharp look-out to see whether one of these fine days you change your mind, and wear it as a permanent emblem——”

  “A—permanent emblem?”

  “Yes, of our friendship.”

  What would Paddy say when she saw it, Jessica wondered. Paddy loved all jewellery and ornaments, and would be very envious of such an attractive gift.

  On the impulse of the moment she spoke her thoughts aloud.

  “Paddy would love a bracelet like this.”

  “Would she?—well, she need not know I have given it to you,” Monty answered casually. “It shall remain a profound secret between us,”—and then deliberately changing the conversation—” That chap Winter—he’s a worse gambler than Gordon, isn’t he?”

  Jessica suddenly remembered her mother’s request. “Why, what do you mean? “she asked a little anxiously.

  “Only—this evening he was bragging about the money he makes on horses and telling Gordon that if he would follow his tips he could do the same——”

  “Gerard is very well-off, so I suppose he can afford to gamble—” Jessica hesitated before saying apologetically, “But you won’t encourage Gordon to gamble, will you? Don’t be offended,” she added quickly as Monty frowned.

  He laughed then—” I’m a difficult chap to offend— and I quite understand—and promise that your esteemed brother will get no encouragement whatever from me. Will you have a cigarette?”

  She shook her head’—” No—and I must go to bed —I have to be up early——”

  Monty glanced at the clock.

  “Nearly midnight!… Jove! how time flies when you’re in good company.” He lit a cigarette and blew a little cloud of smoke into the air. “What is that chap Winter? “he asked.

  “I don’t think he’s anything particular,” Jessica told him. “He has some interest in a firm of engineers which his father started—his father is dead now—Gerard was in the Army, though I don’t think he saw any actual fighting.”

  “I’ll bet he didn’t! “Monty said impulsively, and then laughed apologetically. “Sorry—he’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?”

  “You don’t like him very much, do you?”

  “I hardly know him, but—I’m a firm believer in first impressions and—well—” he smiled down at her “As your mother would say, it takes all sorts to make a world——”

  The sound of the gate being rather violently slammed broke the silence—

  “That’s Gordon,” Jessica said—” I’ll go—Good night” and she hurried away.

  “Pleasant dreams,” Monty called after her. “And don’t forget my words of wisdom about friendship, will you? Good night.”

  Real friendship can stand any hardships! . .. . the words were echoing in Jessica’s mind as she closed her bedroom door and, turning on the light, looked with unconscious wistfulness at the bracelet.

  Why had Monty given it to her instead of to Paddy? And why—when he had asked cheerily,” Going to shut me out, were you?” had that tragic betrayal suddenly come to life in her heart?

  She loved him!—yes, impossible as it seemed after so short an acquaintance—she loved him! she, who had never believed it possible that she would care for any man except perhaps, with friendly affection. Was it just imagination? One heard so many instances of’falling in love at first sight’ as the romantics called it—and it was not as if Monty had shown her any special attention—not nearly so much as he had to Paddy, and yet… she closed her eyes and held fast to the gold bracelet as she tried to think clearly and sensibly.

  To begin with she knew so little about him—only that he was cheery and considerate and good-tempered—that the sound of his voice and his laugh brought an involuntary smile to her lips, and that without him—after only ten days—the house seemed painfully quiet and lonely.

  Against her closed lids she visualised his face—not a handsome face—very sunburnt skin—which made his eyes seem so startlingly blue. Big shoulders, strong hands—not nearly so good-looking a man as Gerard Winter nor—she suddenly thought of John Barker whose surprising admission of affection had given her such a thrill of quiet happiness.

  But that wasn’t love! Long as she had known him, and much as she liked him, neither his presence nor the sound of his voice had ever caused her heartbeats to quicken as they had done when Monty called to her out of the darkness—“Going to shut me out, were you?”

  If the family knew they would say she was crazy! A faint smile crossed Jessica’s lips as she pictured her father’s look of profound astonishment.

  “In love!… you’d better see a doctor, my girl—” and her mother’s gentle protest… “Jess dear—you can’t possibly care for a man you have known so short a time! Nice as he is,” she would doubtless add with her usual kindliness. Strangely enough it was Paddy who had said, only that evening, “If ever you do fall in love—well, Heaven help you. You never do things by halves——”

  But none of them should ever know; she would keep her secret closely guarded no matter what it cost her to pretend that nothing had happened to spoil her serenity—and to smile as she trudged along the pathway on which Fate had set her feet—a lonely, monotonous path, as she realised for the first time, now she was confident it would never be shared by the one man whom she knew she would love to the end of time and eternity. …

  A morning or two later Monty announced at breakfast-time—

  “If I can be spared, I must go to London for a few days at the end of the week on business—” and then with pretended dismay—” Do my ears deceive me, or did someone mutter ‘Good riddance!’?”

  “Lucky you!” Paddy sighed. “I adore
London— Is it really on business, Monty?”

  He nodded. “Um—otherwise how do you imagine I could tear myself away from the bosom of my family?”

  Mrs. Mansfield laughed. “We shall miss you,” she said with real sincerity.

  “You spoil that chap,” Kirby told his wife when as usual she went to the door to wave him goodbye. “We shall have him for the rest of our lives if you make such a fuss of him.”

  “But—Kirby dear— you like him too, don’t you?“ she protested.

  Kirby growled.

  “I’m fed-up with everything,” he declared. “Whichever way you turn it’s frustration—frustration —frustration. Anyone would think we’d lost the damned war instead of winning it.”

  She touched his arm in gentle sympathy.

  “Don’t you feel well this morning? If so, why not stay at home for once? A rest would do you good—” and then, as he did not reply, “There isn’t anything really the matter, is there, dear? You would tell me if there was, wouldn’t you?”

  “What do you imagine’s the matter?” he retorted, and then more gently, “I didn’t sleep well—that’s the trouble. Don’t worry, I’m all right—I must go, or I shall miss the damned train,” and he hurried away. But for once he did not turn at the end of the road to wave to her.

  “Did you think your father looked ill?” Mrs. Mansfield asked Jessica anxiously. “He seemed— somehow unlike himself this morning I thought——”

  Jessica had thought so, too—but she answered cheerfully,

  “I expect he’s tired, he said he hadn’t slept very well. Why don’t you both take a holiday?”

  Mrs. Mansfield sighed—” I wish we could! but everything is so expensive nowadays—” she glanced towards the window with wistful eyes. “He didn’t even wave goodbye to me when he got to the end of the road.”

  Jessica laughed.

  “I expect he’ll bring you something good from London this evening, dear—flowers, or fruit, or something. He always does when he’s been a bit irritable, doesn’t he?” But she felt a little apprehensive, though her spirits rose when Monty thrust his head round the kitchen door as she was helping Dilly wash up the breakfast things to enquire whether the laundry had come home.

  “Short of shirts,” he said with pretended tragedy.

  Dilly giggled. “It’s due this morning,” she told him. “And if there’s anything I can do for you, Mr. Monty—I’m a good washer—though we’re a bit short of soap,” she added regretfully.

  Monty said “Ha!”with dramatic intonation, and turning, he raced up the stairs two at a time, returning with a bar of Sunlight which he set on the table with a magic wave of his hand—

  “The Universal Provider!” he announced.

  “Lordy! “Dilly ejaculated—” Is there anything you can’t give us, Mr. Monty?”

  “You must let us pay you for that,” Jessica said in businesslike fashion. “If you only knew how welcome it is——”

  He looked at her steadily—

  “When I have paid my debt to you, it will be time enough to settle such an unimportant account,”—and then as Dilly seized upon the soap and hurried away— “You’re not wearing my valuable gift yet, I notice?”

  Jessica flushed sensitively, but there was no time to reply as at that moment Paddy appeared on the scene. Her ankle was quite well again, though—as Gordon occasionally unkindly remarked—she could produce a pathetic limp whenever she wanted a bit of extra attention!

  “Someone on the phone for you, Monty,” she announced. “One of your Lady Friends—but she wouldn’t give me her name.”

  Monty quickly departed, but was back in a moment—

  “It’s Peter’s girl—Rose Gallon,” he told them. “She’s in London for the day and would like to meet me——” Perhaps it was unconsciously that he looked at Jessica as he asked, “Anyone care to act as chaperone?”

  Jessica did not even raise her eyes, but Paddy said without hesitation—

  “Oh, I’d love to come!”

  And Monty answered, imitating her enthusiasm— “And I would adore to take you!—Hurry up and get ready.”

  There was a short silence when they had left the kitchen before Dilly said bluntly,

  “Good friends, aren’t they, Miss Jessica?”

  “Good—friends?”

  “Mr. Monty and Miss Paddy…. Shouldn’t be surprised if something doesn’t come of it—” she laughed, and then with a half apologetic glance at Jessica—” I saw Mr. Monty kiss her last night——”

  Jessica was looking through the cookery book for a recipe and it suddenly fell from her hands to the floor—

  “Oh!… did you? “she said faintly.

  Dilly nodded. “They didn’t see me—but I was crossing the ball and—well, there they were. Don’t tell Mr. Monty I see them, will you, Miss?”

  Jessica shook her head as she stooped to recover the book. “No, I won’t tell him,” she promised. But for the first time in her life she understood the meaning of jealousy.

  Monty had kissed Paddy!… Paddy, whom all the men adored! While she—but there was still John!—John who loved her and had asked her to be his wife.

  Chapter V

  During the Days That Followed it Seemed to Jessica as if everything began to go wrong from the moment when Dilly told her with smiling interest that she had seen Monty kissing Paddy.

  That very evening the usual quiet routine of the family life was disturbed by the fact that Kirby Mansfield did not appear at the usual time, nor—as invariably happened when he was kept late at the office—did he ring up to inform them he had been detained.

  Mrs. Mansfield wandered restlessly about the house looking pale and worried, in spite of Jessica’s cheery assurance that she was sure nothing was wrong, and that presently they would see him striding up the road.

  “It is so unlike him not to ring up! “her mother answered. “And he wasn’t his usual self when he left this morning. Do you think it’s too late to get through to the office, or will everyone have gone?”

  “I’ll try,” Jessica told her, and then as the’phone bell rang sharply through the silence, “There! that will be father—Shall I go, or—” But Mrs. Mansfield was already at the’phone, enquiring happily— “Is that you, dear? Is that you, Kirby? “—and then after a brief silence, “Oh, it’s you, is it, Paddy!…You won’t be home to supper!…going to a theatre!…Oh, very well. Have you got the latchkey?” An unnecessary question, for, unlike Gordon, Paddy was never without one.

  Mrs. Mansfield went back to Jessica.

  “It wasn’t your father—it was Paddy—Monty is taking her to a theatre.” She again moved restlessly to the window, peering out into the street with worried eyes. “Oh dear, oh dear, what can have happened!”

  “Nothing,” Jessica assured her. “Don’t worry, dear—you’ll only make yourself ill.”

  But Mrs. Mansfield would not be comforted.

  “Gordon isn’t home either—I am sure something must have happened to your father, or he would have let me know he would be late. He knows how worried I always am if he isn’t home at the usual time——”

  “I’ll see if I can get through to the office.”

  But there was no reply, though she could hear the telephone bell ringing monotonously.

  Was there anything wrong, she wondered with sudden premonition—but why should there be? Perhaps there was some trouble on the railway causing the trains to be late!

  The operator spoke with bored tolerance—

  “Sorry—there is no reply——”

  Jessica hung up the receiver and went across the hall to the kitchen.

  “We’ll have supper,” she told Dilly. “Keep some hot for Mr. Mansfield—Oh—and Mr. Hallam and Miss Paddy won’t be home—they’re going to a theatre——”

  Dilly smiled knowingly—

  “Miss Paddy loves the theatre, doesn’t she? “she submitted, and then, perhaps instinctively—” But I think they might have asked you to go w
ith them, miss—you don’t often go anywhere.”

  “Two’s company, you know,” Jessica answered with forced lightness, but she was thinking despondendy, as she returned to her mother, nobody wants me! except—perhaps John! but now the knowledge brought her very little comfort.

  Mrs. Mansfield only toyed with her supper—

  “I’m too worried to eat anything,” she declared tremulously. “If anything has happened to your father it will be the death of me—I—listen! “She half rose from her chair, and for a moment there was breathless silence, till she drew a long breath of relief —” There he is!…thank Heaven, there he is! “and she almost ran from the room.

  Jessica looked after her with unconscious wistfulness.

  Wonderful to be so much in love with one’s husband after thirty years. The ideal thing—the real thing for which everyone hoped and so seldom attained. She smiled faintly as she heard her mother’s reproachful voice—

  “I was getting so worried—why didn’t you ring me? It’s nearly eight o’clock. There’s nothing the matter, is there, dear?”and her father’s reply—a little constrained, she fancied—

  “Nothing, my dear—I missed my usual train, that’s all—sorry if you’ve been worried—I’ll just have a wash—shan’t be a moment—get on with your supper——” but to Jessica it seemed a considerable time before he came to the table, and then she thought —or was it just imagination—that in a surprising way he seemed to have aged since he left home that morning.

  “Where is everybody? “he asked. “Gordon left the office at five and said he was coming straight home.… Don’t give me such a large helping, my dear—I’m not really hungry——”

  “You hardly ate any breakfast,” his wife reproached him, but Kirby merely shrugged his shoulders and changed the subject.

  When supper was over Jessica persuaded her mother to go straight to bed.

  “You’re looking tired,” she scolded her affectionately. “That’s through worrying about father, and I told you he was all right, didn’t I?”

  She hesitated a moment before saying gently, “You’re very fond of him, aren’t you, dear?”

  There was a surprising look of youth in Mrs. Mansfield’s face when she replied—