The Halo Part 14

She laughed harshly and pulled her dressing-gown closer about her. It was cold in here.

"I suppose I'd better tell Theo the truth--or, no, just that I've changed my mind. No, I can't do that, for I'd never see _him_ again. I want to see him; there's no danger; he'll never suspect me."

Up and down the two rooms she paced, her two long black plaits hanging over her shoulders and accentuating the red-Indian character of her face. "How Gerald would gloat!" she thought suddenly, clenching her hands. "The beast!"

The stable clock struck one. She had thought that wretched old d.u.c.h.ess would never want to go to bed.

"I wish I could tell Pam. According to the d.u.c.h.ess, Pam is a mine of wisdom. But I know what she did about that Peele man, and I haven't the courage to do that. Oh, why did I ever _see_ Theo? Then I'd have married Ponty, and--_what's that_?" Wheeling fiercely, she faced the door leading from her sitting-room into the pa.s.sage. It opened noiselessly and Carron came in, dressed as she had last seen him. "Hus.h.!.+ don't be frightened, Brigit. I saw your light and----"

"Well--and?" She looked as if she were about to spring at his throat, and he closed the door quietly and entered her bedroom.

"My good child, don't be melodramatic! I only wanted to tell you that--that I am sorry I was rude to you the day you left----"

"Rude, were you? I had quite forgotten it. Now go!"

"No, thanks. I will sit down for a moment. Brigit, you are a very foolish woman. Hush, I will tell you why. Firstly, because you are going to marry the son of that musical mountebank; and secondly, because you seem bound to make an enemy of me."

"Threats?"

She stood looking down at him with a smile as disagreeable, though not as evil, as his own. "Don't you be melodramatic! And please go. If you don't, I'll ring for Amelie."

"I don't mind."

And she knew that he did not. She, on the other hand did, for she had always disliked and distrusted the Frenchwoman. "If you prefer one of the men?"

"They won't hear you; men-servants never do. And, besides, I'm going in a minute. Listen, Brigit; you have, during the past year, done everything you could to hurt me. Do you think it's fair, all things considered?"

"Fair or unfair, your--attentions annoy me."

"Well--your att.i.tude annoys me, and unless you change it, I'll--get even with you. Now, there's plain English for you." He rose. "That's all I wanted to say. Rather pretty, your room."

"Very good," she sneered. "In the language of your favourite branch of dramatic art, 'do your worst.'"

"And you intend to continue to torture me till--till I can't bear it?"

His face whitened, and there was real agony in his voice. After all, he was suffering too, and suddenly, for the first time, she pitied him.

"I am sorry, Gerald," she said, bending towards him and laying her hand on his shoulder. "I----"

"Hus.h.!.+" reaching out his hand he switched off the light, for they had both heard slow footsteps coming softly down the pa.s.sage.

The room was dark now but for the fire which had died down, and luckily they stood in the shadow. The soft footsteps, heavy, though they would have been noiseless at any other hour than this most quiet one, approached slowly and deliberately. Instinctively the girl clung to the man, and he put his arms round her for the first time since she was a little child. Even in their mutual fright she felt his heart give a wild throb.

Then the door opened gently and on the threshold appeared--Tommy, sound asleep, hugging to his unconscious breast the volume of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, in which he had been reading about the Amati.

Slowly the boy crossed the room and disappeared into the sitting-room.

"Go," whispered Brigit, desperately; "he mustn't be waked up--go this way----"

But Carron had lost his head, and kissed her, breathlessly, hungrily, and then, just as the little blue-clad figure again appeared in the one doorway, he disappeared by the other.

The girl stood quite still, not daring to scream, so angry that only the unconscious presence of Tommy prevented her rus.h.i.+ng after the man she hated, to try to kill him with her two hands.

And Tommy, after a moment's hesitation, made his slow way back to his room and to bed. When she had tucked him up in safety she went to her mother's room.

"Sorry to wake you, mother," she said, her voice shaky, "but might I sleep with you? I have had such a bad dream and am nervous."

Lady Kingsmead luckily liked to have her vanity played upon by such requests. It pleased her to have her daughter turn to her. "Of course, darling," she said sleepily.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Carron was late for breakfast the next morning, and when he came in found Brigit sitting in her mother's place, laughing and talking with Sir Henry Brinsley, who, much pleased by the manner in which his dull and endless stories were received, subsequently declared that it was all rot calling that handsome girl of Lady Kingsmead's dull; very intelligent girl indeed, as a matter of fact.

But for all her composure, Brigit never quite lost her that-morning-conceived hatred of people who have two goes at ham and eggs; and an infantile remark of Tommy's that eggs should be eaten only out of the sh.e.l.l, because they "bled all over the plate," recurred to her again and again as she watched the worthy baronet satisfy his enormous appet.i.te.

"Mornin', Brigit." "Morning, Gerald." She nodded, and he went to a side table for some fish.

Theo, who sat opposite Brigit for the excellent reason that his father had insisted on sitting by her, took some marmalade. "What are we to do this morning?" he asked.

She frowned with sudden impatience. It was a horrible question. Would he always ask it at breakfast?

Then she smiled at him, for his fresh happy face was good to look at.

"Oh, nothing--or anything you like. Why?"

"Because I thought it might be well, if you can spare the time, to take papa for a spin in the motor. He did not sleep well."

She turned to Joyselle. "It is true. I am one of the best sleepers in the world, but last night I had a bad dream, and it got on my nerves and I lay awake for nearly two hours," He spoke with an air of only half-amused grievance.

"I am sorry," she murmured perfunctorily, rising to shake hands with Miss Letchworth, whom she had always disliked as being one of those people who are jocund in the morning. Then, as Yelverton proceeded to provide food for the unfortunate jocund one (who was really as inclined to matutinal depression as any of her betters, but considered it her duty to be "cheery"), Brigit realised that she was not sorry Joyselle had slept badly; she was glad.

"My dream, Brigitte," he went on, his thought answering hers, "was about you. You were so unhappy, poor child, and I was trying to help you, but could not reach you. It was very dreadful, for I could hear you call to me."

"How--pathetic," she answered, with stiffening lips. "But--would you like to go motoring?" He nodded delightedly, for his mouth was full of toast.

"I _love_ it," he went on, a moment later, "I love to go fast, fast, fast. It is wonderful. What is your car?"

"It is mother's; nothing very remarkable in the way of speed, I fear.

Would you care to go for a drive, Lady Brinsley?"

But Lady Brinsley had letters to write, and no one else volunteering for the excursion, half-past eleven found Brigit and Joyselle in the tonneau of the car, and Theo sitting with the chauffeur.

"Go to Kletchley, Hubbard."

It was a cold, grey day, with a steely sky and a wind that threatened to be high later on. Brigit's cap was tied on firmly with a strong green veil, but she wore nothing over her face, and the chill air made her feel better. She had not slept at all, and was tired, although nothing in her aspect betrayed the fact. All night her mind had been busy with its new-found problem, and the unusual presence of her mother had made her very nervous. But--she had not dared return to her room, for fear of finding Carron there.