Second String Part 25

Quite impossible that the image should put on bones and flesh--should take life! Yes, Harry was sure of that. But even its phantom presence was disturbing.

"I thought I'd got rid of all that!" Some such protest, yet even vaguer and less formulated, stirred in his thoughts. He conceived that he had become superior to temptation. Had he? For he was objecting to being tempted. Who tempted him? Did she--or only he himself, the man he was?

The question hung doubtful, and thereby pressed him the closer. He flattered himself that he knew women. What else had he to show for a good deal of time--to say nothing of wear and tear of the emotions? Here was a woman whose meaning, whose feeling towards himself, he did not know.

Andy Hayes was free the next afternoon--his half-holiday. Harry picked him up at his lodgings and carried him with him to Nutley. Harry was glad to have him, glad to hear all about Gilbert Foot and Co., even more glad to see his own position through Andy's eyes. Andy's vision was always so normal, so sane, so simple; his a.s.sumptions were always so right. A man really had only to live up to Andy's a.s.sumptions to be perfectly right. He a.s.sumed that a man was honest, straight, single-minded--unreservedly and exclusively in love with the girl he was going to marry. Why, of course a man was! Or why marry her? Even foolishly in love with her? Rather spoonily, as some might think? Andy, perhaps, went so far as to a.s.sume that. Well, it was a most healthy a.s.sumption--eminently right on the practical side; primitive perhaps, but tremendously right.

"I'll take Miss Vintry off your hands. Don't be afraid about that!"

laughed Andy.

"I don't know that you'll be allowed to. You're no end of a favourite of Vivien's. She often talks about you. In fact I think I'm a bit jealous, Andy!"

Andy's presence seemed to restore his balance, which had seemed shaken--even if very slightly. He found himself again dwelling on the charms of Vivien, recalling her pretty ways and the shy touches of humour that sometimes ornamented her timidity.

"I asked her the other day--I was playing the fool, you know--what she would do if I forsook her. What do think she said?"

Andy was prepared for anything brilliant, but, naturally, unable to suggest it.

"She said, 'Drown myself in the lake, Harry--or else send for Andy Hayes.'"

"Did she say that?" cried Andy, hugely delighted, blus.h.i.+ng as red as he had when the Nun told him that he was attractive.

If Andy's simplicity and ready enthusiasm were congenial to some minds and some moods, to others they could be very exasperating. To have it a.s.sumed that you are feeling just what you ought to feel--or even rather more than could in strictness be expected from you--may be a strain on your patience. Harry had welcomed in Andy an a.s.sumption of this order; at the moment it helped him. Isobel gave a similar a.s.sumption about her feelings a much less hearty welcome. While Harry and Vivien took a stroll by themselves after lunch, Andy sat by her and was enthusiastic about them; he had forgotten the Nun's unjust hints.

Isobel chafed. "Oh, yes, it's all very ideal, I daresay, Mr. Hayes.

Let's hope it'll last! But Mr. Harry's been in love before, hasn't he?"

"Most people have had a fancy or two." (Even he himself had indulged in one.) "This is quite different to him, I know. And how could anybody help being fond of her?"

"At any rate she's pretty free from the dangers of compet.i.tion down here." She looked at Andy with a curious smile.

He laughed heartily. "Yes, that's all right, anyhow! Not that it would make any difference, I'm sure."

"If it were only to show this simpleton--" The angry thought was in her heart. But there was more. Harry's devotion was seeming very whole-hearted that day. Had she lost her power to disturb it? Was Andy in the end right in leaving her utterly out of consideration? Every day now and every hour it hurt her more to see Harry's handsome head ever bowed to Vivien, his eyes asking her love and receiving the loving answer. A wave of jealousy and of defiance swept over her. Andy need not know--she could afford to leave him in his folly. Vivien must not know--that would be too inconvenient. But Harry himself--was he quite to forget those two walks to the gate? She burned to use her power. A letter from Wellgood had reached her that morning; it was not a proposal of marriage, but by his talk of future plans--of what was to happen after Vivien left them--it a.s.sumed that she was still to be at Nutley.

The implication was definite; matters only awaited his return.

"I haven't had a single word with you--by ourselves--all day," said Vivien to Andy after dinner. "You'll walk with me, won't you?"

"For my part I don't think I want to walk at all," said Harry. "It's rather chilly. Will you keep me company indoors, and forgive my cigar, Miss Vintry?"

Isobel a.s.sented rather coldly, but her heart beat quicker. Now that the chance came--by no contrivance of hers and unexpectedly--she was suddenly afraid of it, and afraid of what seemed a sudden revelation of the strength of her feeling for Harry. She had meant to play with him, to show him that, if she was to be left out of the reckoning, it was by her own choice; to make him see her power fully for once before she hid it for ever. Could she carry out her dangerous programme? Harry had been at his gayest that night, just in the mood which had carried him to most of his conquests--gaily daring, skirting topics of gallantry with defiant ease, provoking, yet never offending. If his eyes spoke true, he was in the mood still.

"Only a week more!" he said. "Then papa-in-law comes back, and I go electioneering. Well, I suppose we've had enough of what they call dalliance." He sank into an armchair by the fireplace, sighing in pleasant indolence, lolling gracefully.

The long windows were open to the terrace; the evening air came in cool and sweet. She looked out on the terrace; Vivien and Andy had wandered away; they were not in sight. Vivien's wrap lay on a chair close to the window.

"Vivien ought to have taken her wrap," said Isobel absently, as she came back and stood by the mantelpiece opposite Harry. Her cheeks were a little flushed and her eyes bright to-night; she responded to Harry's gaiety, his mood acted on hers.

"What are you going to do after we're--after the break-up here?" he asked suddenly.

She smiled down at him, pausing a moment before she answered. "You seem quite sure that there will be a complete break-up," she said.

He looked hard at her; she smiled steadily. "Well, I know that Vivien won't be here," he said.

"Oh, I know that much too, Mr. Harry. But I suppose her father will."

"I suppose that too. Which leaves only one of the party unaccounted for."

"Yes, only one of us unaccounted for."

"One that may be Miss Wellgood's companion, but could hardly be Mr.

Wellgood's. He can scarcely claim the privileges of old age yet."

"You think I ought to be looking out for another situation? But supposing--merely supposing--Mr. Wellgood didn't agree?"

Harry flung his cigar into the grate. "Do you mean--?" he said slowly.

She gave a little laugh. He laughed too, rather uneasily. "I say, you can't mean--?"

"Can't I? Well, I only said 'supposing.' And I think you chaffed me about it yourself once. You forget what you say to women, Mr. Harry."

"Should you like it?"

"Beggars mustn't be choosers. We can't all be as lucky as Vivien!"

"Was I serious? No--I mean--are you? Wellgood!"

"Why shouldn't I be? Or why shouldn't Mr. Wellgood? It seems absurd?"

"Not in Wellgood, anyhow."

"Beggars mustn't be choosers."

"You a beggar! Why, you're--"

"What am I?"

"Shall I break the rules?"

She gave him a long look before answering. "No, don't." Her voice shook a little, her composure was less perfect.

Harry was no novice; the break in the voice did not escape him. He marked it with a thrill of triumph; it told him that she was not merely playing with him; he was holding his own, he had his power. The fight was equal. He rose to his feet and stood facing her, both of them by the mantelpiece.

"I don't want you to say anything about this to Vivien, because it's not definite yet. If the opportunity were offered to me, don't you think I should be wise to accept?"

"Are you in love with him?" He looked in her eyes. "No, you can't be!"

"Your standard of romance is so high. I like him--and perhaps I don't like looking out for another situation." Her tone was lighter; she seemed mistress of herself again. But Harry had not forgotten the break in her voice.

"Have you considered that this arrangement--"