An Unknown Lover Part 18

"What sort of tobacco do you smoke, and how much? I don't smoke at all.

Too Cranford! Are you pleased or sorry?

"Question V.

"What would be your manner of proceeding under the following circ.u.mstances:--

"Wife irritable. Wife hysteric. Wife homesick. Wife unreasonable and provoking? Wife all at once."

"My Dearest Katrine,

"If I write at once I shall just catch you before you sail. When you are here, when I see you face to face, and after the period of truce is over, I shall tell you how I felt when that cable arrived yesterday, and I realised that in less than three months we should meet in the flesh.

I have felt a new man since that hour, and Dorothea says I look it. She had already written to Bedford (at my instigation) saying that you would probably be coming by the _Bremen_, and giving him elaborate instructions on your behalf. No fear that he won't carry them out!

Heavens! the luck some fellows have. What would I give for the opportunity of 'looking after you' through those long, lazy days, but I'm not jealous, Katrine--don't imagine that! Whatever you may decide in the future, you'll play fair to me in the present. I asked for my chance, and you've given it by agreeing to come out, so for the time being I hold the field. I trust you utterly, with a glad heart.

"This will be the last letter you get from me, unless perhaps a line at Aden, and I can write no more to-day, dear. My heart is too full...

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

The new house had been found; a sunny, airy, sufficiently s.p.a.cious house, and the bride-elect having graciously expressed her approval, an army of workmen were busy with the decorations. Grizel had come to pay a flying visit to The Glen to superintend their efforts, explaining that though she possessed sufficient strength of character to bear with equanimity such trial as Providence might please to send, to live with a wrong shade of paint pa.s.sed the limits of her endurance.

"If it were even the tiniest degree wrong, I'd nag at Martin till his life was a burden," she announced, smiling the while the slow, imperturbable smile which gave so emphatic a contradiction to her words.

"But it wouldn't be my fault!" protested Martin, trying to show sufficient distress at the threat to satisfy Grizel's sense of dignity, but his thanks for the effort were a grimace, and an emphatic: "It will _always_ be your fault!" which silenced him once for all.

Grizel indeed was in her most irresponsible mood, scandalising Katrine by refusing to be serious even on that most solemn of subjects, the ordering of Martin's food.

"I couldn't possibly think of food beforehand. It's disgusting! If I knew what was coming to table, I couldn't eat a bite! The cook must do it. What are cooks for?"

"_Plain_ cooks at under thirty pounds a year don't consider menus within their province. They stare into s.p.a.ce, and twirl their fingers while _you_ plan. And even then they need directing."

Grizel sighed.

"But I don't _like_ plain cooks! I'll have a fancy one. Forty pounds,--fifty--whatever she asks, and a kitchen maid to do the work."

"Then," prophesied Katrine gloomily, "Martin will be ruined. She'll fry up all his royalties."

"I'll tell her she's not to. And besides," Grizel's voice swelled with importance; she had caught the sneer on Katrine's lips at those first words, and now she had a really sensible addenda. "_I'll bribe her_!

In reverse ratio. The smaller the bills, the bigger the bribe."

"Then," pursued Katrine relentlessly, "she'll give you bad qualities.

Salt b.u.t.ter; dripping instead of lard; cheap jams; rank tea!"

"Oh, my gracious!" Grizel grimaced again, more violently than before, but the next moment she smiled triumphant. "I'll buy a vidder! A gentle, domesticated little vidder who's redooced, and seeks a home.

She shall have two rooms, and kind treatment, and be paid by results.

Good food, small bills,--big salary. Small food, big bills,--out she goes! Don't tell me I can't! There are _thousands_ of vidders. It will be a pious deed."

"And what," queried Katrine the practical, "will you do?"

"Interfere, of course! What d'you expect?" Grizel turned her head toward her _fiance_, who had been a delighted listener to the discussion. "_And_ make love to Martin. I shan't have time for anything else."

Katrine left the room, head in air, whereupon Martin made haste to take his bride in his arms.

"Happy?" she asked softly, tilting her head so as to look into his face.

"Content?"

"Ah, Grizel, not quite... When I have you always... when you are my wife!"

"No qualms at all--no doubt? Because there's still time... Sure you realise exactly what you are getting? An expensive wife, impracticable and lazy. And I'm twenty-eight. I shan't change. And not a bit clever, except in one way!"

"What way, Grizel?"

"You know--"

"I want to be told!"

The golden eyes grew dark, the pale face glowed. Ah! Grizel's lover needed no telling. Not one woman in a thousand could love like this soft, sweet thing, whose outer appearance was so calm and still. She who had contrived to love with tenderness a cantankerous old woman, lavished a very flood of devotion on the man of her choice. His starved nature absorbed it like a thirsty plant, but his delight in her was still fearful, incredulous; the sudden transformation of his life had the perilous radiance of a dream.

The engagement had been a veritable nine days' wonder. English newspapers had published more or less accurate life histories of the interesting couple; American journals had excelled themselves in imaginative details. Blurred caricature portraits of the prospective bride and bridegroom had appeared side by side, to the amus.e.m.e.nt of the one, and the helpless fury of the other. The outer world labelled Grizel, fool, and Martin, knave; envied the unsuspecting distant relations, to whom would come the news of a great inheritance; and then promptly, mercifully, forgot. Friends also ceased in due time to forward notes of ostensible congratulation, behind which the real amaze was plainly stamped; only one effect was of any lasting nature, and regarding this Martin felt an odd mixture of chagrin and elation. His agent reported a large increase in the sale of his books, and publishers bid against each other for the privilege of publis.h.i.+ng his new novel.

The artist in him resented so spurious a success; the lover rejoiced in the prospect of increased prosperity which would make it possible to provide more luxuries for his bride.

Grizel was whole-hearted in her choice of love rather than riches, but when one has been accustomed to think in thousands, it is difficult to grasp the importance of fractional amounts. She thought it absurd to weigh the matter of an extra hundred a year in so important a matter as the rent of the house in which one would have to live; she took for granted the existence of a carriage, as simply as that of a table, and had not dimly imagined the possibility of existence without a maid.

Martin did not delude himself that the financial future was free from difficulty, but as for years past he had been living well below his income, he was prepared to meet the exigencies of a period of adjustment. Meantime Grizel's suggestion of the "vidder" seemed an admirable solution, and he told himself cheerfully that with such a check on household expenses, things could not go far wrong. In a few years' time Grizel would have adapted herself to the new conditions and be able to take over the reins; in the meantime he was well content that she should devote herself to a more attractive role!

But one shadow had clouded the sun of Martin's content, and within the last weeks that also had been removed, for after having obstinately refused all overtures from himself and her friends, after proclaiming by day or by night that she must go out into the world and fight her own battles, Katrine had shown a sudden and mysterious _volte-face_. One Thursday morning she had retired upstairs to digest her Indian mail, and half an hour later, knocking at his study door, had announced her intention of cabling an immediate acceptance of the Middletons'

invitation! She was trembling as she spoke, and her eyes were moist, but Martin did not need to be told that it was joy and not sorrow which caused her emotion. A woman would have pondered the why and wherefore of the sudden change; Martin merely told himself with a sigh of relief that she had "come to her senses," embraced her affectionately, and proffered money for the cable. Later on he came to the conclusion that Katrine must all along have intended to accept, and had been merely indulging in a little feminine fuss, since it appeared all cut and dried that she was to be looked after _en voyage_ by a member of Middleton's regiment, now invalided in Egypt, Well! everything was turning out in the most delightful fas.h.i.+on. In a hill station, which was a health resort even in the hottest months, the question of climate was practically non-existent. After the marriage Katrine would stay behind superintending final arrangements in the new home, then travel overland to Ma.r.s.eilles, where he and Grizel would meet her and give her a good send-off. A visit of a year was mentioned, but when a girl so handsome and striking went out to India, one could never tell... "Perhaps she'll marry this Bedford," soliloquised Martin happily, Jim or Bedford, what did it matter, so long as he was a good, straight fellow, and made the girl happy!

Part 2--Chapter XIX.

Katrine came slowly up the companion-way, and looked around the deck in search of her labelled chair. It was ten o'clock in the morning, and the sun was blazing out of a cloudless sky. Yesterday in Ma.r.s.eilles it had been grey and chill. The only cheerful thing had been Grizel's face, fresh, pink-cheeked, unashamedly aglow. The secret of her happiness was patent to the most casual eye. Tired men and work-worn women looked at her as she pa.s.sed, and glowed in sympathy, and from her their glance pa.s.sed on to the tall man with the deep-set eyes, who walked by her side. Martin's happiness was as great as his wife's, but man-like he was at pains to conceal it. The consciousness of being observed was enough to extinguish his smiles, and Katrine was amusedly conscious that he was making an effort to appear depressed at the prospect of her own departure. The newly-married pair had accompanied her on board the steamer, armed with flowers, with fruit, with scent and bonbons, with cus.h.i.+ons and medicines, until the small cabin had been blocked to overflowing, and the pa.s.sengers who had braved the rigours of the Bay, debated among themselves as to the ident.i.ty of the handsome girl who had such a luxurious send-off.

Standing on the deck amid the roar and bustle of approaching departure, the three had spoken their farewell words.

"I won't say good-bye," Grizel declared. "_En avant_! Katrine!

There's a good time coming!"

But the tears stood in Katrine's eyes. She was leaving the known, the safe, and the sure, and sailing forth into the unknown. Fear seized her, and with it regret.

"If--if I come home soon... You won't be cross if I turn up like a bad penny? You will take me in, until I find some work?"

"My dear girl, you know it! If you are not happy; if you don't want to go, come back with us _now_! Never mind the clothes... We'll arrange all that. You shan't go one step against your will..."

Grizel laid her hand on her husband's arm. Her cool, calm voice was like a tonic, bracing the hearers into composure.

"She is going of her _own_ will, and if _You_ would take her back with you now, _I won't_, so you can choose between us! We're ready for you, Katrine dear, when you've tried it, and grown tired, but not before.