He did not look at her now, but kept his eyes away nervously. A sob caught Grace's throat, for what she feared was true.
'I suppose you're gone on somebody else.'
'That's no business of yours, is it?'
'Oh, you cad! I wonder how I could ever have been such a fool as to care for you.'
He gave a short, dry laugh, but did not answer. She went up to him quickly and took hold of his arms.
'You're hiding something from me, Reggie. For God's sake, tell me the whole truth now!'
He turned his eyes to her slowly, that sulky look of anger on his face which she knew so well.
'Well, if you want to know, I'm going to be married.'
'What?' For a moment she could not believe him. 'Your mother never said a word about it.'
He laughed.
'You don't suppose she knows, do you?'
'And what if I tell her?' whispered Grace hurriedly, distracted, only knowing that this horror must be prevented. 'You can't marry; you haven't the right to now. It's too infamous. I won't let you. I'll do anything to stop it. Oh, Reggie, Reggie, don't leave me! I can't bear it.'
'Don't be a fool! It had got to come to an end some day or other. I want to marry and settle down.'
Mrs Castillyon looked at him, and despair and anger and vehement hatred chased one another across her mobile face.
'We'll see about that,' she whispered vindictively.
Reggie went up to her and caught her violently by the shoulders, so that she could hardly bear the pain.
'Look here, none of your little games! If I find out that you've been putting a spoke in my wheel, I'll give you away. You'd better hold your tongue, my dear; and if you don't, every letter you've written to me shall be sent to your mother-in-law.'
Grace turned deathly pale.
'You promised me you'd burn them.'
'I dare say, but you're not the only woman I've had to do with. I always like to have a weapon or two in my hands, and I thought it might be useful if I kept your letters. They'd make pretty reading, wouldn't they?'
He saw the effect of his words on Grace, and let go; she tottered to a chair, shaken with terror. Reggie rubbed it in.
'I'm not a bad-tempered chap, but when people put my back up I know how to get even with them.'
For a moment she gazed straight in front of her, then looked up with a curious expression in her eyes. She spoke in a hoarse voice, jerkily.
'I don't think you'd come out of it very well if there were a public scandal.'
'Don't you have any fear about me, my girl,' he answered. 'What d'you suppose I care if I'm made a Co? The mater would be a bit sick, but it don't really matter a button to a man.'
'Not if it gets known that he's taken a good deal of money off the woman unlucky enough to fall in his clutches? You forget that I've paid you – paid you, my friend, paid you. In the last six months you've had two hundred pounds out of me; d'you think anyone would ever speak to you again if they knew?'
She saw the deep blush of shame which coloured his dark cheeks, and with a ring of bitter triumph in her voice, continued.
'The first time I sent you money I never thought for a moment you'd accept; and because you did I knew what a low cur you were. I've got letters, too, in which you ask for money, and letters in which you thank me because I sent it. I kept them, not because I wanted a weapon against you, but because I loved you and treasured everything you'd touched.'
She stood up, and with cold, sneering lips flung out the words; she hoped they would rankle; she wanted to wound his self-esteem, to sear him so that he should writhe before her.
'Make a scandal, by all means, and let all the world see that you're nothing but a blackguard and a cad. Oh, I should like to see you expelled from your club, I should like to see people cut you in the street! Don't you know that there are laws to imprison men who get money in no filthier a way than you?'
Reggie strode up to her, but now she was no longer frightened. She laughed at him. He thrust his face close to hers.
'Look here, get out of this, or I'll give you such a thrashing as you'll never forget. Thank God, I'm done with you now. Get out – get out!'
Without a word, swiftly, she passed him, and went to the door. Not caring who might be about, she crossed the long passage that led from Reggie's room to hers, her brain beating as though devils within it hammered madly; she could not realize what had occurred, but felt that the world was strangely coming to its end; it seemed to her the finish of life and of everything. Her wan cheeks were flushed still with anger and hatred. She had just reached her door, when Paul walked towards her up the great staircase; for one moment she was panic-stricken, but the danger extraordinarily cleared her mind.
'Grace, I've been looking for you,' he said; 'I wondered where you were.'
'I've been talking to Mrs Bassett,' she answered quickly. 'Where on earth did you suppose I was?'
'I couldn't think. I've just been downstairs to see if you were there.'
'I wish you wouldn't follow me about and spy on my movements,' she cried irritably.
'I'm very sorry, my darling; I didn't mean to do that.' He stood at the door of her room.
'For Heaven's sake, come in or go out,' she said; 'but don't stand there with the door wide open.'
'I'll just come for two minutes,' he answered mildly.
'What do you want?'
She took off her jewels, which burnt her neck like a circle of fire.
'I've got something I wish to talk to you about. I'm much distressed by a thing that has happened on the estate.'
'Oh, my dear Paul,' she cried impatiently, 'for goodness' sake don't worry me tonight; you know I don't care twopence about the estate. Why don't you consult Bainbridge, who's paid to look after it?'
'My love, I wanted your advice.'
'Oh, if you knew how my head was aching! I feel as if I could scream in sheer agony.'
He stepped forward, full of affectionate concern.
'My poor child, why didn't you tell me before? I'm so sorry, and I've been bothering you. Is it very bad?'
She looked up at him, and her mouth twitched. He was so devoted, so kind, and whatever she did he could overlook and forgive.
'What a pig I am!' she cried. 'How can you like me when I'm so absolutely horrid to you?'
'My darling,' he smiled, 'I don't blame you for having a headache.'
A sudden impulse seized her; she flung her arms round his neck and burst into a flood of tears.
'Oh, Paul, Paul, you are good to me. I wish I were a better wife. I've not done my duty to you.'
He folded his arms about her, and kissed tenderly her painted, wan, and wrinkled face.
'My darling, I couldn't want a better wife.'
'Oh, Paul, why can't we be alone? We seem so separated. Let's go away together, where we can be by ourselves. Can't we go abroad? I'm sick of seeing people – I'm sick of society.'
'We'll do whatever you like, my dearest.'
A great happiness filled him, and he wondered how he had deserved it. He wished to stay by his wife, helping her to undress, but she begged him to go.
'My poor child, you look so tired,' he said, kissing her forehead gently.
'I shall be better in the morning, and then we'll start a new life. I'll try and be better to you – I'll try and deserve your love.'
'Good night, darling.'
He closed the door very softly, leaving her to her thoughts.
8
MRS CASTILLYON passed a sleepless, unquiet night, and looking at herself in the glass next morning, was shocked at her haggard countenance; but she was determined that Reggie during this final interview should discern no sign of her distress, and coming down to breakfast, was to all appearance in the highest spirits. She noticed the hang-dog air with which he avoided her glance, and with angry resolution began to rally him in the somewhat obvious fashion often mistaken by persons of her sort for wit. To conceal her poignant misery she kept up a flow of vapi
d conversation, intermingled with little shrieks of laughter and pointed by much gesticulation; but she exaggerated her spiritless vivacity so that the effect was somewhat hysterical, and Frank, whom this did not escape, wondering what thus affected her, mentally prescribed a sedative. The carriage drove round before breakfast was over, and Mrs Bassett, fearful of missing her train, began to bid the company farewell. Mrs Castillyon held out her hand frankly to Reggie.
'Good-bye. You must come and see us again when you have time. I hope you've enjoyed yourself.'
'Al.' he answered.
He could not understand the smiling carelessness of her look, wherein he saw no reproach nor anger, and asked himself uncomfortably what Grace could have in mind. He pondered slowly over the harm she could possibly do him. But he was glad of the decisive rupture, and heartily thankful the final meeting was over. He hated her the more because of the reminder that a good deal of money had passed from her hands to his.
'She knew I couldn't afford to go about with her on my allowance, and I've spent it all on her,' he muttered to himself in extenuation.
They were in the train now, and he looked at his mother, who sat in the opposite corner of the carriage, reading the Morning Post. He would not have liked her to know the details of the affair. Again he repeated excuses to himself, at the end of which he settled to a sullen resentment against Grace because she had tempted him. Finally his thoughts went elsewhere and his heart began to beat more quickly.
But after the Bassetts and Frank were gone, Mrs Castillyon was seized by a great dismay, and shuddered as though a cold wind blew, because she must spend two days more under the stern eyes of Paul's mother, who seemed to watch with a vindictive triumph, as though she knew the abominable secret, and to reveal it only waited for an opportunity. Grace stood looking out of the window at the wide stretch of meadow-land and the splendid trees of the park. The sky was grey, covering the earth with a certain sad monotony which answered her mood, depressed after the forced excitement of the early morning. Paul came up behind her, and placed his arm round her waist.
'Are you very tired, darling?' he asked.
She shook her head, trying to smile, touched, as of late she had been often, by the gentleness of his voice.
'I'm afraid you exhaust yourself. You were the life and spirit of the whole party. Without you we should have been almost dull.'
From force of habit an ironic and obvious repartee came to her lips, but she did not say it. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
'I'm beginning to feel so dreadfully old, Paul.'
'Nonsense! You've scarcely reached your prime. You're looking prettier than ever.'
'D'you think so really? I suppose it's because you care for me a little still. This morning I thought I looked a hundred and two.'
He did not answer, being more accustomed to debate than to conversation, but pressed his arm a little more closely round her waist.
'Have you never regretted that you married me, Paul? I know I'm not the sort of wife you wanted, and I've never brought you any children.'
He was profoundly moved, for his wife had never spoken to him in such a way before. For once the pompousness fell away from his delivery, and he answered in trembling tones, almost whispering.
'My darling, each day I thank God for you. I feel I'm not worthy of the blessing I've received, and I'm grateful to my Maker, very grateful, because He has given me you to be my wife.'
Grace's lips twitched, and she clenched her hands to prevent herself from bursting into tears. He looked at her with a fond smile.
'Grace, I bought a little present for your birthday next week. May I give it you now instead of waiting?'
'Yes, do,' she smiled. 'I knew you had something, and I'm so impatient.'
Quite jauntily, he went off, and in a minute, somewhat out of breath from his haste, returned with a diamond ornament. Mrs Castillyon knew something of jewellery, and her eyes glistened at the magnificence of this.
'Paul, how could you!' she cried. 'How perfectly gorgeous! But I didn't want anything half so valuable. I have so much that you've given me. I only wanted a tiny present to show that you still cared for me.'
He beamed with satisfaction and rubbed his hands gleefully.
'As if anything was too good for my loving faithful wife!'
'We mustn't show it to your mother, Paul. She's scold awfully,' answered Grace archly.
He burst into a shout of laughter.
'No, no, hide it from her.'
Mrs Castillyon raised her lips to his, and with ardent passion, unexpected in that stout, complacent man, he kissed her. At that moment the dogcart came to the door, and Paul, in some surprise, asked his wife if she needed it.
'Oh, I forgot,' she cried. 'I'm going up to town for the day. I ought to have told you. Miss Ley is much worse than she pretends, and I think I should go and see if I can do anything.'
The night's dreary meditation had left her with a sensible resolve to consult Miss Ley, and when the maid came to draw the blinds she had ordered the trap to take her to the station for the train after that by which her guests were going. Now glibly she invented an excuse for her journey, and refused to hear Paul's remonstrance, who feared she would make herself ill; nor would she allow him to accompany her.
'I feel I mustn't prevent you when you're bent on an errand of mercy,' he said at length. 'But come back as early as you can.'
Miss Ley was finishing luncheon when Mrs Castillyon was announced.
'I thought you were entertaining at Jeyston,' she exclaimed, much surprised to see her.
'I felt I must see you or I should go mad. Oh, why didn't you come down? I wanted you so badly.'
Miss Ley, evidently in robust health, could not repeat her plea of indisposition, and therefore, instead of explaining, offered her guest food.
'I couldn't eat anything,' cried Grace, with a shiver of distaste. 'I'm simply distracted.'
'I surmised that you were in some trouble,' murmured Miss Ley, 'for I think you've rather overdone the – slap. Isn't that the technical expression?'
Mrs Castillyon put both hands to her cheeks.
'It burns me. Let me go and wash it off. I had to put it on this morning, I looked such an absolute wreck. May I go and bathe my face? It'll cool me.'
'By all means,' answered Miss Ley, smiling, and while Mrs Castillyon was absent asked herself what could be the cause of this sudden excursion.
Presently Grace returned and looked in the glass. Her skin, bare of rouge and powder, was yellow and lined, and the cosmetic on her eyebrows and lashes, which water did not remove, threw into more violent contrast the ghastly pallor. Instinctively she took a puff from her pocket, and quickly powdered her face; then she turned to Miss Ley.
'Did you never make up?' she asked.
'Never. I was always afraid of making myself absurd.'
'Oh, one gets over that – but I know it's silly; I'm going to give it up.'
'You say that as tragically as though you announced your intention of going into a nunnery.'
Mrs Castillyon glanced at the door suspiciously.
'Will no one come in?' she asked.
'No one; but for all that I recommend you to keep calm,' retorted the other, who suspected that Grace wished to make a scene, and somewhat resented the infliction.
'It's all finished between Reggie and me. He's thrown me over like a worn-out tie; he's got somebody else.'
'You're well rid of him, my dear.'
Miss Ley's sharp eyes were intent on Mrs Castillyon's face, seeking therein to read the inner secret of her heart.
'You don't care for him any more, do you?'
'No, thank God, I don't. Oh, Miss Ley, I know you won't believe me, but I am going to try to turn over a new leaf. During these last months I've seen Paul so differently. Of course, he's absurd and pompous and dull – I know that better than anyone – but he is so kind; even now he loves me with all his heart. And he's honest. You don't know what it means to be with
a man who's straight to the very bottom of his soul. It's such a relief and such a comfort!'
'My dear, it surely requires no excuses to find good qualities in one's husband. You show a state of mind which is not only laughable, but highly original and ingenious.'
'It makes it so much harder for me,' answered Mrs Castillyon, woebegone and tragic; 'I feel such an awful cad. I can't bear that he should trust me implicitly when I've behaved in such a disgusting way; I can't bear his kindness. You guessed before that I was tortured by the desire to make a clean breast of it, and now I can't resist any longer. This morning, when he was so sweet and gentle, I could hardly restrain myself. I can't go on; I must tell him and get it over. I would rather be divorced than continue with this perpetual lie between us.'
Miss Ley observed her for some while calmly.
'How selfish you are!' she murmured at length in an even, frigid voice. 'I had an idea you were beginning to care for your husband.'
'But I do care for him,' answered Mrs Castillyon, with astonishment.
'Surely not, or you wouldn't wish to cause him such great unhappiness. You know very well that he dotes upon you; you are the only light and brightness in his life; if he loses his faith in you, he loses everything.'
'But it's only honest to confess my sin.'
'Don't you remember the proverb that open confession is good for the soul? There's a lot of truth in it – it is very good indeed for the soul of the person who confesses; but are you sure it's good for the listener? When you wish to tell Paul what you have done, you think only of your own peace of mind, and you disregard entirely your husband's. It may be only an illusion that you are a beautiful woman of virtuous temper, but all things are illusion, and why on earth should you insist on destroying that of all others which Paul holds dearest? Haven't you done him harm enough already? When I see a madman wearing a paper crown under the impression that it is fine gold, I haven't the brutality to undeceive him; let no one shake our belief in the fancies which are the very breath of our nostrils. There are three good maxims in the conduct of life: Never sin; but if you sin, never repent; and above all, if you repent, never, never confess. Can't you sacrifice yourself a little for the sake of the man you've treated so badly?'
Merry Go Round Page 24
