A Bachelor Husband Part 76

They talked in broken whispers. He would take her away, he said; they would find their happiness together. Between kisses they made their plans.

"And you will never be sorry--and hate me?" she asked painfully.

He turned her face to his.

"Am I to answer that question?" he asked hoa.r.s.ely, and she shook her head. "No--I know you never will."

Her head was on his shoulder, his cheek pressed to hers. Presently she raised herself, and put her arms round his neck.

"Are you quite--quite happy?" she whispered. The grip of his arms left her breathless as he answered:

"I never believed in heaven--till now." She rubbed her soft face against the rough tweed of his coat.

"I love your coat," she said. "I love all of you."

Feathers turned his face sharply away, and she put up her hand, forcing him to look at her again.

"Do you really love me?" she asked. She had had so little of love in her life, it was hard to believe that at last she was everything in the world to this man.

He answered her with broken words and kisses. She could feel the pa.s.sionate beating of his heart beneath her cheek, and she looked up at him with shy eyes. "You always will--always!" she insisted.

"Always--always ... all my life--and after."

He put his lips to hers in a long kiss; he kissed her hands and slender wrists.

"My love--my love," he said brokenly, and could say no more.

Presently he drew her to her feet

"I must take you home." He looked at her with eyes that were hot and pa.s.sionate. "Marie, do you despise me? I tried to send you away, but I love you so, I love you so."

"I love you, too," she said.

"My beloved."

She looked up at him.

"It's good-night then?" She lifted her face like a child to kiss him. "Good-night till to-morrow," she said. "And then ..."

He kissed the words from her lips.

She tidied her hair by the little gla.s.s over the mantel-shelf.

"My cheeks burn so," she said shyly. She had never before been kissed as Feathers had kissed her.

Her eyes fell on a photograph of Chris as she turned away. Chris at his handsomest and happiest, his eyes meeting hers with the old smiling carelessness, and she felt as if a cold hand had clutched her heart.

Until now she had forgotten Chris! She had forgotten everything.

She turned quickly to the man behind her.

"I am quite ready." She was only anxious now to go.

He kissed her again on the dark stairs, very humbly and reverently, and he kept her hand in his as they walked together along the street.

"Is it very late?" she asked once, and he said: "No--only ten; do you think they will have missed you?"

"I locked my door; they will think I am asleep. Greyson will let me in."

He clenched his teeth in the darkness. Already the lying and subterfuge had begun. Where was it going to end? He could feel shame like a mantle on his broad shoulders.

He said good-night to her at the end of the street, following her slowly till she was safe indoors. Then he turned and walked back to his rooms. His head was burning, and he took off his hat to bare it to the cool night air. He did not know if he was more happy than he had ever been in his life before, or unutterably wretched.

The thought of her kisses made his head reel, but the shame of his own pitiable weakness was like a searing flame.

He had said that he would take her away to-morrow. He was going to cut her off from everything she had held dear, and make her a nameless outcast! He was prepared to bring his idol down to the dust at his feet.

Looking back on the last hour, it seemed impossible he had yielded to such delirium. He had arranged every detail for her, had written them down so she could not forget, and at this time to-morrow ...

He could not pa.s.s that thought. He stood still in the cool night and looked up at the stars.

"G.o.d, it can never be!" he told himself despairingly.

He had said that she was as far above him as the stars, and here he was in his madness trying to bring a star down to earth.

It was not of himself he thought at all. He would have gloried in a shame shared with her; but for Marie, little Marie Celeste ...

He went up to his rooms with dragging steps. There was a light s.h.i.+ning through the half-closed door, and he supposed vaguely that he must have left it burning when he went out.

He pushed open the door, and saw Chris sitting in the chair where so short a time ago he had held Marie in his arms.

CHAPTER XXI

"I fought with my friend last night.

And it was not with honest swords; No steel sprang out to gleam and bite We fought with poor, mean words."

THERE was a moment's silence, then Feathers went forward. The riotous blood in his veins had quieted and he felt a little cold and breathless.

"Hullo!" he said.

Chris looked up.