A Bachelor Husband Part 34

She loved him so much! Even the little line between his brows, which was the result of his habit of frowning, was beautiful to her; she still thought him the handsomest man in the world.

She would have loved to go to St. Andrews with him; she knew Chris had been before for golf many times, and the very name conjured up visions of his old tweed coat and the thick low-heeled shoes he always wore when he played, and she wished with all her heart that she had the courage to ask him to take her.

She had never been to Scotland, but the very mention of it seemed to speak of wide stretches of moorland and purple heather and the cool fresh mountain air.

She moved restlessly, and Chris looked up.

"Shall we go?"

"Yes, I am ready."

They went out into the street Marie knew now why he had brought her out this afternoon, why he had suggested that pearl necklace; it was a kind of offering in exchange for his freedom for the next few weeks.

She supposed that most women would have acted differently; would have refused to be left at home--would have cried and made a scene; but the heart of Marie Celeste felt like a well from which all the tears have been drawn.

Let him go! What use to try and keep him an unwilling prisoner?

She pa.s.sed a sleepless night turning things over in her tired mind, trying to find a way out of the entanglement which seemed to grow with every pa.s.sing day.

Surely there must be some way out that was not too unhappy! Surely there must be women in the world sufficiently clever to do what hitherto she had failed to do!

In the end she decided to write to Dorothy Webber. After all, they had been good friends, and it would be pleasant to see her again.

She wrote the following morning, and asked Dorothy to come to London. "Chris is going away," she wrote. "So I would love to have you for company. Shall we go to Wales or Ireland for a little trip?"

She asked the question, parrot-like, in obedience to her husband's suggestion, not in the very least because she wished to leave London, or to visit any place. Wales or Ireland might have been Timbuctoo or Honolulu for all she cared.

She told Miss Chester what she had done.

"I knew you would not mind, dear," she added.

Miss Chester was pleased, and said so.

"I have often thought how well Chris and Dorothy would get on together," she said innocently. "They are very much alike in their love of sport."

Marie bit her lip.

"Chris is going away to Scotland," she said, "golfing with Aston Knight and Mr. Dakers."

Miss Chester dropped her knitting.

"Then, my dear child, pray go with him! Mountain air is just what you want to put some color into those pale cheeks. If it is for my sake that you are staying I beg of you to go; I will speak to Chris myself."

Marie laughed nervously.

"I don't want to go--I hate long railway journeys. You know I do. I would much rather stay here. Auntie, it's really the truth!"

Miss Chester took a good deal of persuading, but finally gave in.

"I don't like the idea of husband and wife being separated when there is no need for it," she said in a troubled voice, but Marie only laughed as she bent and kissed her.

"You need not worry about that," she said. "Think how pleased we shall be to see him when he comes home."

She waited anxiously for Dorothy's reply to her letter, which came two days later.

"I should have loved to come," so she wrote, "but only the day before I got your letter I accepted another invitation, but if you will ask me again later on, Marie, I'll be there like a bird."

Marie's first feeling was one of relief that Chris would not meet her, after all, but the next moment she was despising herself for the thought. How could she be so petty and jealous? And, besides, it would have been less lonely--Dorothy was always good company.

She told Chris of Dorothy's letter, but he seemed unimpressed.

"Well, I should ask her later on," he said casually.

"Yes, I will. Have you fixed anything up yet?"

"Yes--at least, Knight is doing all the arranging. Feathers is coming along, and another man, and that boy Atkins wanted to b.u.t.t in, but I shall choke him off. He's such a kid, and besides"--he looked at her with his little frown--"I've not forgotten that he nearly drowned you."

"How absurd!" But the pleased color flew to her cheeks. Perhaps he had cared, after all, when he so nearly lost her.

"And--when are you going?" she asked hesitatingly.

Chris yawned.

"At the end of the week, I think--Friday."

Friday again! A little s.h.i.+ver of apprehension swept through Marie's heart.

CHAPTER XI

"You went away-- The sun was warm--the world was gay; My heart was sad, because although I bade you stay you did not so!

But went away ..."

CHRIS went on the Friday, and for days beforehand he was like a schoolboy going off for an unexpected holiday.

He packed his things long before they would be needed, and unpacked them again because he wanted to use them; he took stacks of clothes and golf sticks and a brand-new fis.h.i.+ng-rod, which he put together for Marie's benefit, showing her how perfectly it was made and telling her what sport he hoped to have with it.

Marie tried to be enthusiastic and failed; once long ago she had stood on a river bank with Chris and watched him play a trout, finally landing the silvery thing on the gra.s.sy bank, where it lay and gasped in the burning suns.h.i.+ne before he mercifully killed it with a stone.

She had hated the sport ever since--it had seemed so cruel, she thought.

In a moment of bravado she had once dared to say so to him, and had never forgotten the stony look of disapproval with which he regarded her.

"Cruel!" he echoed scathingly. "How In the world do you suppose fish are caught, then? You seem to like them for breakfast, anyway."

She knew that was true enough, but to see them served up cooked and inanimate was one thing, and to see them dragged from the clear depths of a river to gasp life away on the bank quite another.